The beauty of background music

By Karen Rosenberg

Listen to clips from Joi's One and One is One at Planet of Sound.

One and One is One wouldn't get you too far in any Group IV. While econ tests might not account for the philosophical expression of unity behind this illogical equation, Joi's album makes it all too easy to draw an analogy between such flawed arithmetic and a sound that doesn't quite equal the sum of its diverse components. The underlying concept is intriguing--add constant drum machines to Asian bhangra and sitar variables, and get challenging, rich fusion à la Talvin Singh. Problem is, Joi's equation doesn't balance; overproduction and lack of variety cancel out the complex sonic textures that usually result from such a masala.

The liner notes, culled from "Rabindranath Tagore's Metaphysical Mathematics," proclaim that "one plus one in love equals one. The one plus one are the total world." How profound. All cynicism aside, one can't help thinking there's a fine line between unity and monotony, too often blurred on this album. Joi doesn't credit the listener to follow more than one hook or theme per song. Even layers of authentic instrumentals can't rescue tracks like "ESY-SHJ," with a melodic structure that alternates between the same consecutive notes throughout, from plodding along in their mediocrity.

Like Tagore's mathematics, there's something too calculated in Joi's debut effort. As Talvin Singh has proven repeatedly, East-meets-West doesn't have to mean finding the lowest common denominator between cultures. Yet, on One and One is One, easily-digested snippets of Eastern philosophy are spliced into generic Western dancefloor rhythms without doing justice to the original context of either category. The chants on "Fingers" and "Asian Vibes" sound nearly as shallow and overemotive as a Britney Spears vocal. Likewise, "Mission" revels in a New Age aesthetic--as clumsy as a sleep machine's ocean noise against the gorgeously irregular crash of real waves. It's a shame that musicians who take themselves seriously enough to assume the title "the original Asian breakbeat-fusionists" come across as flaky, doomed to the lifespan of Madonna's Far-Eastern fetish.

It doesn't help that most tracks are mired in mid-tempo gray area. The beat is neither steady and hypnotic enough to induce trancey stupor, nor loose and funky enough for a drawn-out reverie. The clunky backbeat of "March On," as steadily bland as the Chemical Brothers, sounds promising when injected with goa-esque strains. Still, one can't quite envision it propelling a drug-tweaked, day-glo crowd into bouncy unison. The sole exception is "Heartbeat," which finally provides enough urgency to get those sneakers off the ground; unfortunately, it comes too late, delivering an impact once the listener has given up and relegated the album to background noise.

Which is not to say the album has no redeeming qualities--even as background noise, it holds its own within the immense sea of garden-variety, bandwagon electronica released almost daily. One and One is One aims at no less than a supreme equation of metaphysical unity through music. When the sum of Joi's efforts is taken, however, one beat and one hook equal one bored listener. (Astralwerks)

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