The Orb

The Orb consists of "Dr." Alex Paterson and a rotating crew of sidekicks, notably Kris "Thrash" Weston, Thomas Fehlmann, and Andy Hughes; over the years, their prog-electronic innovation has gradually tapered off to insignificance. The group's breakthrough single, "Little Fluffy Clouds," was one of the most excitingly original records of the summer of '91. A bumping dance track built on samples of Steve Reich's "Electric Counterpoint" and a Rickie Lee Jones interview record, "Fluffy Little Clouds" has the sweetly ele-giac undertone of a celebration that has ended. The rest of The Orb's Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld (abridged to a single disc for its first American re-lease) is elegant chill-out music: long, blurry, near-ambient tracks that occasionally burble up into low-end grooves. The first Peel Sessions contains alternate mixes of three long tracks from Aubrey Mixes: Ultraworld and is more of the same, but less effective.

If Ultraworld was the warning shot, U.F. Orb was the ambient-dub bomb. Its centerpiece is the mighty "Blue Room," which circles a throbbing bass line for more than 17 minutes (the single version made that almost 40 minutes); "Towers of Dub," an abstracted take on dancehall reggae, is another extended powerhouse. For a few years, the Orb became the hot remixers for anyone who wanted to sound dark, mysterious, and vaguely spaced-out. (Two volumes of Orb remixes have appeared as Auntie Aubrey's Excursions Beyond the Call of Duty, which is worth investigating.) Live 93 is pleasant enough, but it's clearly a stopgap product and the fifth time the same damn material had been reworked.

The Orb finally ditched the old repertoire and outer-space references for Pomme Fritz, billed as "the Orb's little album." The title track, constructed around a contrapuntal chime, is charming and willowy; after that, the musicians basically run out of material and doodle amiably for another half hour. Whoooooosh. Things improve a bit with the grainy, foggy Orbus Terrarum, whose beats are mostly either absent or muted to a point that summons not much more body motion than head-nodding. There are few if any hooks to speak of, though the 17-minute "Slug Dub" has exactly the sort of stoned pulse suggested by its title. The second Peel Sessions disc is of interest because Paterson and friends strap on guitars for a faithful and decidedly uncharacteristic reading of the Stooges' "No Fun."

After that, it's all downhill. Orblivion recalls Ultraworld without the hooks or centered grace, and clichéd ranting-preacher samples don't help. Cydonia attempts to bring the franchise up to date with drum-and-bass-influenced beats and even vocals (by Aki Omori and Nina Walsh) on a couple of tracks, but it's still pretty dull. The greatest-hits set U.F. Off is a weird one -- it marks virtually all of the Orb's career high points, but most appear in condensed three- or four-minute versions. It's never dull, but it rarely achieves the spaced-out buzz along the way to dullness, which is really the Orb's sweet spot. (DOUGLAS WOLK)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide