That single-letter surname isn't the only thing obscuring Adam F's true identity. This twenty-four-year-old junglist's first great single was 1995's "Circles," a catchy clubfloor favorite that copped a riff from lite-jazz keyboardist Bob James and draped it over some vigorous beats, bringing smiles to dancers throughout London. But F's second great single was 1996's "Metropolis," a frightening approximation of a bee swarm turning an office building into a hive. What sort of artist, listeners wondered, could so expertly move from a whisper to a scream, from a festive chirp to a buzzing drone – could play Lennon to his own McCartney?

On the basis of F's debut album, an artist who's still finding his way. Besides the two great singles, there's other good stuff here – the abrasive "Jaxx," definitely; the gaseous setting for Everything but the Girl's Tracey Thorn, "The Tree Knows Everything," definitely not. But too much of Colours is F sampling sounds from the New Age end of the fusion spectrum (rain sticks, jazz-guitar noodling) and toughening them up rhythmically, an MO that wears thin after a while. The ungenerously inclined might accuse him of free-falling, but fans will recognize that, at worst, he's going 'round in circles. (RS 782)

JEFF SALAMON