Described in the press pack as "a mind-spinning selection of soundtracks to films that have never been made," Invisible Movies might just actually fit the billing. Slipper, a new Rephlex entity consisting of Sam Dodson (aka Salman Gita), Linda Finger, Liz Fletcher and Rat Scabies, have the eclectic flavor of Loop Guru about them. It's no coincidence, really, considering Dodson and Finger both come from Loop Guru, and Scabies from the Damned. Loop Guru's influence is all over this new release, most notably in the atmospheric tribal singing, raindrops, animal calls and indigenous instruments. I'm almost positive they've sampled a good bit of Loop Guru music throughout, and if not, they've so closely approximated it that the point is moot.

Sadly, Invisible Movies lacks most of the best elements of Loop Guru's better releases (Amrita, The Third Chamber), plotting a mildly new course into jazz fusion territory. House beats that achieved cohesion with Loop Guru's world-music sampler angle have now been replaced by hi-hats, twanging upright bass, the pitch-defying vocals of Finger and Fletcher, and the manic drums of Rat Scabies.

Invisible Movies isn't a particularly impressive or attention-worthy experiment. Crossing from relatively listenable moments to pure experimental wanking with little regard to flow does give the record the sense that it's a jagged soundtrack to films never made, but not in a good way. In fact, it's more in the way that soundtracks used to be, a collection of disposable stock music with a few moments of precious goodness.

While the snippets of speech are mildly interesting, and are, I suppose, meant to suggest the whole "film" theme, I can't help feeling like this record has just been a waste of my time. I'm a fan of much of Loop Guru's body, but Slipper walks the thin line between almost-worthwhile and absolute crap. Most tracks go nowhere, content to wrap the listener in a cocoon of one cycling, dragging beat, heavily adorned with world-beat and jazz flourishes. Toss in some miscellaneous samples of people talking and a baby crying, and you've got a cornucopia of lazily matched musical elements that need more development before they can compliment each other. I give Invisible Movies a resounding yawn and an apathetic "eh," and suggest that perhaps if these films hadn't been made...

-James P. Wisdom