When bands like Limp Bizkit and Slipknot have DJs, we can safely say that the scratch revolution has been co-opted. We're all used to hearing the turntable as an instrument now (something that never happened on this scale in '80s hip-hop), and dense pomo music doesn't seem complete without some "whir-whir" cut-ups. The best hip-hop DJs on the planet are actually semi-famous now, even outside the walls of the DMC championships. I dare say that all that scratchin' is making me bitch.

Novelty isn't everything, but there's still something so wearing about a scratch DJ album. We suspected four or five years ago that hyper-athletic turntabalism was nothing more than the guitar wankery of Yngwie Malmsteen and Tony MacAlpine transposed to the Technics 1200, and a dozen dull albums by the genre's major players have borne this out. Most of the time, what's missing is compositional acumen. Kid Koala has it in spades, and both DJ Disk's full-length and the work of Mixmaster Mike have flashes of brilliance where the deck wizardry actually translates to a mood-evoking piece of music. But too many DJs lack a holistic ear, and a turntabalist without a mind for structure is a soloist, not a composer.

This brings us to Live Human, the most interesting turntable-led crew to emerge in some time. What differentiates Live Human from collectives like the Skratch Piklz and the X-ecutioners is that they combine live bass (mostly standup, played by Andrew Kushin) and drums (by Albert Mathias) with a turntable out front, and scratches handled by the criminally underrated DJ Quest. Though they've been gigging in San Francisco for a number of years now, and released a couple 12-inches on Fat Cat, Elefish Jellyphant is their full-length debut.

In some respects, this record demonstrates what's been missing from so many scratch records. This thing contains bonafide grooves and deep beds of rhythm for Quest to improvise over. And the fact that they're handled by a live rhythm section means they don't change gears every 30 seconds as one break slides into the next. The consistent pulse of "Lesson #7" (a sly title, continuing the update of Double D. & Steinski begun by DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist) and "Quick Eleven" (which will remind some of the better work of IQU) provide ample opportunity to move your body, and the solid foundation makes the off-kilter scratching all the more effective.

While there are plenty of straight-up beats very much in the hip-hop vein, Elefish Jellyphant's more interesting cuts are the ones that veer into jazz fusion territory. Best of all is the meandering "Lost World," a dead ringer for Miles Davis circa Get Up with It, with Quest wringing ghostly textures from a copy of John Hassel and Brian Eno's Fourth World Vol. 1: Possible Musics. It's a perfect combination of samples, beat, and mood-- a combination that elevates the art form substantially.

What keeps this from being a great album is that so many cuts just seem too commonplace. With the crack rhythm section comprised of stand-up bass and drums, many of these tracks recall Soul Coughing or instrumental Beastie Boys-- music that is by no means bad, but somehow lacks significance. Still, for my money, this is about the best thing going now in the world of scratch outside Kid Koala's universe.

-Mark Richard-San