LP3

Lovely promiscuous electronica.

The result is some kind of cosmic machine music, reflecting not just a stoner’s world of internalized minimalist headbanging but an entire universe of culture, texture, and possibility.

It is the most realized of their albums to date, and it showcases the group fully exploring the possibilities of the niche that they created for themselves two records ago.

Adventurous beat-mining producers like the aforementioned West could very well be using bits of several of these tracks for a Common beat before the year is finished. But even if that doesn't happen, keep this collection close: Someone's definitely going to try to steal your copy.

Like much instrumental rock, Ratatat’s tunes can still sound like a soundtrack in search of a credit sequence. Yet all the new transformations enrich Ratatat’s music both sonically and psychologically, stoking new drama and hinting at hidden reservoirs of melancholy.

Instead of changing their sound to accommodate a wider palette of sounds, they wisely chose to incorporate them into their aesthetic. It's an inspired move that will help them keep their old fans and still allow the duo to progress musically.

Unlike its second effort, LP3 offers a sense of adventure through some potent modes of de-familiarization. [Summer 2008, p.92]

There's nothing intrinsically flawed about what's otherwise a solid instrumental record, but so much of it feels so close to many of the things happening on the radio and the pop charts right now that, 90 seconds into a song, the mind might start wandering and wondering what this kind of stuff would sound like with Wale or Rihanna on top of it.

It occasionally feels slack, especially compared to old faves like “Wildcat” or their bootleg hip-hop remixes.

LP3 will keep a handful of indie-rockers happy but may not satisfy listeners looking for Daft Punk danceability.

LP3 is as wildly organic as instrumental electronica gets without becoming another genre (or five) altogether.

At this point in their career, Mast and Stroud's brand of whip-smart laptop rock secures them a spot on any dance party playlist. Alas, some songs here sound more fit for a party's background music than music for people to actually dance to.

LP3 is a stronger outing, though it's not necessarily harder or faster.

As presented on LP3, it appears Ratatat's music works best as a fleeting burst rather than a long player.

The balancing act that any group has to perform in successive albums remains askew here. In trying to bring outside influences into their specific sound, Ratatat have gained an appreciation for novel sounds, even if they don't fit in well.

LP3 is a rewarding listen, and you’ll have a taste for it if you enjoyed the less powerful moments of "Classics" or Evan Mast’s previous textural work as E*Vax. Just don’t expect to find yourself headbanging and air-guitaring alone in your room.

Though glimpses of possibility exist (“Falcon Jab” and “Shempi”), and the album is a more coherent and epic expression than previous works, it still fails to excite and mobilize.

Their tried and true formula does wear thin in parts, as it always does, but there are enough creative wrinkles in this album to warrant repeat listens and contemplation.

The disco squelch and vocoder melodies of Falcon Jab recall Discovery-era Daft Punk, but what gives this an extra dimension and warmth is Stroud's guitar playing. [Aug 2008, p.140]

LP3 is no doubt meticulously composed, but too much of it just feels like background music.