vaguely synchronous overlaps with this and the recent james ferraro record. not especially sonic (they’re both miles away now from the come-and-gone tag of hypnagogic) but thematic, kinda. recontextualising; in ferraro’s case it’s past/present/future consumer culture he’s toying with; lopatin, he’s recycling dead language and spectral voices from tv ads. not so much zombie as frankenstein’s monster. y’know, stitched back together and seeking something, rather than just a spark in the frontal lobe and lumbering nothingness. vibes of robert rauschenberg’s combines of cultural detritus. seems to be much more going on and yet sounds like his most cohesive and most straightforward recording yet. in addition to the pinging arpeggiating synth he makes more use of samples, piano, intermittent whoomphs of bass, hell there’s even stabs of almostlinear beats. but it ‘s the buried vox beneath the gauze of kosmische ectoplasm that (un)stand out. he’s talked of melismatic sound in some of the bumph i’ve read. which isn’t to say this shit gets all mariah. in fact seems to me it’s mainly used as a kindof rhythmic device (hiccups for the dead), beatboxing through samples, or in the giant yawning om of klaus schulze. but i guess it’s all grasping at the hypnotic and subconscious; memory, time, television, sound. what ferraro sometimes trades in, just not as playful, less black heart (oh yes there’s a darkness i’m sure at jimmy’s chrome core), a pleasing warmth. gorgeous i reckon. stream the whole bugger, hear for yrself.