her space holiday - manic expressive The first sound on "manic expressive" by her space holiday (note self-deprecating use of lower case) is a computerized voice "welcoming" you to the album, rather similar to the one on the first Add N to [X] record (note self-conscious use of mathematical symbols). Rather than whirrs and burbles and the sound of accelerating concrete, however, this rather tired trick is followed here by the comparably innovative sounds of an orchestra tuning up, interrupted by a few taps of the conductor's baton (a device that may have been lying fallow since R.E.M.'s "Nightswimming.") A solo violin launches into a lovely little melody, soon joined by the rest of the orchestra in a lush, politely brooding instrumental that sets the middling tone for the rest of album; emotional but reserved, sophisticated but tawdry. This soon subsides into an atmospheric hum, which leads into the album's first proper song, a mournful ballad which sets up some of the album's lyrical themes, self-doubt and the sadder aspects of love affairs, set against loping IDM beats and glitches. The marriage of symphonic textures with slowed-down Aphex Twin-style blip-hop and pseudo-jungle, which is essentially her space holdiay's m.o. here, recalls some of the more sophisticated mid-90s trip-hop releases, such as Mono's "Formica Blues" and Everything But The Girl's "Walking Wounded." But this is plainly singer/songwriter territory, albeit fancily got-up, and would never be mistaken for 'techno' (as those albums were). And instead of a bleary-eyed European chanteuse, these tunes are crooned with an appropriate mix of pathos and heartfelt disinterest by hsh's central (only?) member Mark Bianchi, and occasionally doubled by his girlfriend Keely. If this barrage of comparisons and references seems excessive (I've mentioned five other artists so far, and I've only touched on the album's first two tracks), it's frankly because not much that Bianchi does here is strikingly original. At its high points, such as "the ringing in my ears" (the catchiest track here, which features an uplifting string ostinato à la "Bittersweet Symphony") "manic expressive" is truly enjoyable, but elsewhere, in the inexplicable interview track "spectator sport" and the wallowing "perfect on paper" ("I don't hate myself/just the things I do"), which plays like a despondent, pessimistic cousin to the Flaming Lips' "The Spark That Bled," it just seems self-indulgent. I just have one more comparison to make, and in order to be perfectly banal I'll make it as clichéd as possible: her space holiday's most immediate touchstone seems to be Radiohead. Not that this sounds particularly like Radiohead, any more than anything released in the last five years, although the funky, electric-piano driven "keystroke" wouldn't have sounded out of place on their last two discs. But it's hard to imagine a record like this in a pre-"Kid A" universe, from its cover art (created by Shynola, who also did the art for "Kid A" and "Amnesiac") to the mechanical/emotional confluence that informs the music and some of the lyrics. As much as it tries to create something original, and despite the not insignificant pleasures it has to offer, "manic expressive" serves mostly as a reminder that it's not the only one or the best of its kind. And there's nothing wrong with that. Cheer up, Mark. (6/10)