When the Beastie Boys retreated from form and then came back throwing jagged punches with the dazzling and groundbreaking Check Your Head and Ill Communication, the secret weapon in their new arsenal was the Los Angeles carpenter and keyboard player Mark Ramos-Nishita, a k a Money Mark. A devotee of the low-tech sound and approach, Money Mark's disdain of all things digital lent the Beasties a genuine dirty-funk feel, one that helped redefine the trio's oeuvre. By going organic, painstakingly re-creating and contributing the analog grooves of the late '70s (as opposed to just sampling), Money Mark earned the title "fourth Beastie."

On his solo debut, Mark does his own retreating act, stepping back from the controlled chaos of the Beasties' world for something that is, at times, almost ethereal. His unfiltered, uncensored dream state conjures a grittier, more bruised taste of last week's flavor, trip-hop. But there's nothing stale about it.

With an astonishing 30 tracks (some not even a minute long), Mark's Keyboard Repair takes a couple of listens before it grabs hold. Much of the album sounds like very cool riffs stretching in vain to become grooves; many of the grooves are straining to become proper songs. But what initially sounds like a series of outtakes and sample-ready fodder slowly starts to jell, framing some real jewels in the process.

Blaring horns, funky organ vamps, distilled reggae, a variety of drum beats, a handful of soulful vocals, dashes of psychedelic rock and lots of nods to Stax are the chief elements on hand, smoothly mixed and matched throughout the disc. They strike inarguable pay dirt on tracks like the wistful R&B instrumental groove "Sunday Gardena Blvd.," a potent slice of melancholia that's a disc highlight. That's quickly followed by "Insects Are All Around Us," the kind of flawless rock-and-soul hybrid that Lenny Kravitz still can't pull off. And the lovely "Cry" falls just shy of classic-soul status.

Like a true child of hip-hop, Money Mark's aesthetic is a radio dial run amok, pulling in every sound he stumbles across. With the slightest bit of focus and just a little more growth, he could become a stateside Tricky. (RS 732)

ERNEST HARDY