One of my all-time favorite Pitchfork reviews was our esteemed editor's write-up of the reissued Pet Sounds. Ryan liked the record but boldly labeled it overrated. Which it is. Make no mistake: I'm a Beach Boys fan of long standing. I can remember reading about the stratospheric genius of Pet Sounds when it was out-of-print in the mid-'80s. I wanted so badly to hear it, and I was thrilled when it was finally issued on CD. I grew to love the album, but never put it anywhere near what the Beatles were doing at the same point in history, despite rock lore that said Pet Sounds inspired Sgt Pepper's. Somehow, three years have slipped by since I last listened to in its entirety.

I bring up the Beach Boys because Lee Perry is, inarguably, the Brian Wilson of dub reggae. He has some ODB in him, too-- mostly in how he parades his skewed reality rather than hiding it behind handlers. But Wilson is the better comparison. Witness the parallel career trajectories:

1) Early success (Perry with Marley; Wilson with "Surfin' USA")
2) A hyper-creative period of alleged genius (Perry's Revolution Dub; Wilson's Pet Sounds)
3) A downward spiral into madness (Perry torched Black Ark; Wilson abandoned the Smile tapes)
4) Many long years of extended propping-up by critics

The music press being the way it is and everything, Step 3 both enables Step 4 and ensures that the real achievements of Step 2 are valued far beyond their worth. Since long before the time of Van Gogh, people have been in love with the concept of the "insane" artist. After all that time staring into the abyss, it soon starts to stare back. And then it's time to get Dr. Eugene Landy on the blower and cobble together the rarities set.

Like Wilson, Perry continues to play shows and occasionally makes records. Also like Wilson, Perry does little more than sing these days, despite having made his name with production and arrangements. Such are the ravages of Perry's illness (or disinterest) that the legendary studio genius no longer writes music for or produces his own records. Most of those duties on Techno Party are facilitated by admirer Mad Professor, while Perry is left to sing or mumble incoherently over the synthesized backing tracks.

The man does have a mind for wordplay, though, as his legendary interview in Grand Royal #2 will attest; he sporadically digs up a witty couplet at random moments throughout Techno Party. But too often, the banter seems forced, as if Perry was given a subject-- greed on "Crooks in the Business," war on "Armageddon War," hair on "No Dreads"-- and spent a minute or two jotting down whatever came into his head. There are no real songs or hooks to speak of.

The music attempts to "update" Perry's studio sound by incorporating references from current tech-driven genres; despite the odd, speedy drum machine run, Techno Party is mostly electronic reggae without musicians (Perry was an early proponent of the style; Mad Professor perfected it.) Some of it isn't bad, as Mad Professor is clearly skilled at squeezing cool bass sounds out of his equipment. But other tracks take a more obvious route. "Come In" even incorporates the "Yeah, whoo!" sample driven into the ground more than ten years ago by Rob Base & DJ EZ Rock on "It Takes Two."

All in all, Techno Party's a sad state of affairs. It's probably not a bad idea to cut these legends some slack and let them glide into old age. But it would be dishonest to say that what they're doing today really matters.

-Mark Richard-San