Graham Massey enjoyed a reign as chief arbiter of Mancunian Techno cool during the high tide of 808 State's pre-eminence — a period which lasted from the alien spaces of the ultra-minimal first album Newbuild until "Cubik" joyously gatecrashed the Top 40 in the wake of rave's early 90s overground charge. But hindsight has proved this status somewhat illusory — Massey's subsequent activities have revealed the restless, maverick imagination of a musician who actually couldn't give a monkey's for something as brittle and insubstantial as 'cool' — which is just as well, since his own description of Toolshed as a "Prog-operatic commune band" is perilously close to the mark.
This release is more of a compendium than an album; it gathers together 16 Toolshed pieces dating from 1999-2003, offering a gaudy, irreverent and constantly surprising parade of invention. Although essentially a solo project, Massey has lured any number of Mancunian musicians into his Toolshed over the years, including many from Paddy Steer's similarly unclassifiable Homelife project, and as a result these pieces offer a kaleidoscope of sound: woodwind, brass, multifarious drum parts and the bizarre electric violin of 808 State partner Graham Clark are all welded together with breathless insouciance and gobs of sarky humour.
Opening track "Pazuzu" is as good a place to start as any — a mutant Fall/Dick Dale romp punctuated by shotgun snares and keening vocals from the incredible Seaming To. "Nana Nana Na Na", with its swaying saxes and trombones, nods in the direction of John Barry and Lalo Schifrin, but an impish, looped chant ("play the fucking drums!") is casually dropped in to save the enterprise from any hint of hip copyism.
Once you're tuned into Massey's wavelength, there are grin-provoking moments in abundance — the outrageous spasm of overdriven whammy bar abuse that barges into "Don King Singh"; the Ministry-play-Phase-4-Stereo shunt of "Wok & Goblet"; the reverbed, Hawkwind-meets-klezmer violins of "Urbaniak". But the funniest, most revealing moment of all comes just as "Doc Watts" subsides into a rattle of aimless percussion, when Massey answers the phone. "What are you up to?", the caller asks. "Just making a racket," comes the deadpan reply.
Toolshed - Toolshed LP