So tastefully appointed, so artfully/craftily arranged, so very adult-sounding, that I expect most will have cleared the room by the end of this sentence.
Soaked in an ambience as warm as an old tube amp, Mutations knocks off seamless collages of organic source material with his trademark nonsense-as-wit.
Although Conduct is a somewhat more plugged-in affair than their previous disc, Pardon My French, the rockier moments lack the thrust of macho metallurgy.
Obsessive fans of one or more of the artists should enjoy this agreeable exercise in pointlessness. The rest of us: wave politely, no flash photography.