Remember how sweet special effects used to seem? Like when they opened the Ark of the Covenant in "Raiders of the Lost Ark" and all that crazy stuff came out of it, or like the weird dog Rick Moranis turned into in "Ghostbusters," or the first "Alien?" You'd see that stuff and ask your little 12- year- old self "How did they do that?" You'd spend days dreaming up theories, pretending to be behind the scenes. There was some mystery involved. Nowadays you know the answer to that question instantly, and your internal dialogue goes something like:

"How did they do that?"

"Computers. Shut up, kid."

Electronic music used to be the same way. It used to seem totally esoteric, created through some obscure occult process. Didn't matter how simple the music was. Remember hearing Nitzer Ebb's That Total Age for the first time? It sounded so sweet-- so unlike anything else. And even though it's pretty simple stuff in retrospect, at the time it made you wonder what was behind it. Now any high school kid in any basement can do that stuff on their parent's computer. You can get cracks for pro-audio programs at any hacker site you visit, and find a link to that site at Yahoo. In an attempt to keep pushing the envelope, musicians have collected more and more gear and gotten gradually more ware- crazy. But technology has taken the mystery out of special effects and music alike. You know how they did it: computers.

Now, Lakuna is electronic. There are samples and loops and programming. Somehow though, Lakuna feels like the first "Alien." It feels like polyurethane masks and hydraulic pumps and optical printing and background mattes. It's not that it's low-tech, lo-fi or retro, it just manages somehow to obscure its own process.

Lakuna is the new solo outlet for David Narcizo, one of the founding members of Throwing Muses. He's the drummer, in fact, and maybe one of the most underappreciated drummers in rock. His cowbell and snare drum were crucial ingredients in the unique sound of early Muses, and his style has mutated and expanded over the years in a way that few musicians' do. Castle of Crime finds him taking on every aspect of the recording process: he plays drums, of course, but also keyboards and programming and all manner of atmospherics. Frank Gardner handles the bass, and the two are joined by a few familiar Muses- related folks Bernard Georges, Tom Gorman and even ol' Kristin Hersh herself contributing guitar loops to one song.

Castle of Crime is an instrumental deal, and it has a wide- open but moody feel-- like Nebraska at night. Y'know, you can see for miles in every direction but you're still somehow convinced that somebody's gonna sneak up on you. The recipe is simple enough: a mid-tempo beat, some honking noises, some backwards vocal samples, a little looped and distorted guitar, and a bassline that alternates between "slinky" and "driving." In theory, it's nothing you haven't heard before, but Lakuna manages to create more mystery with the tools at hand than most. In an environment as supersaturated with electronic music as today's, where Keanu Reeves can do that slo-mo bullet- dodging dance without even raising eyebrows, a little mystery counts for a lot.

-Zach Hooker