Burial/Four Tet/Thom Yorke: "Ego"

The cardinal rule of collaboration is compromise, which explains why so few artists dabble in it during their artistic peaks. Monsters of Folk didn’t formally exist before 2009 for the same reason the Orb couldn’t fulfill their Pink Floyd collaboration until late last year: these artists were busy crafting personal masterworks, classics that would later award them eminence as well as opportunities for indulgence. So, tempting though it may be to imagine what Monsters of Folk’s debut might’ve sounded like had Conor Oberst, Jim James, and M. Ward written it during their early-to-mid aughts coming-of-age, the urge simply caters to all that’s promising and damned about supergroups.

Yes, the term’s poisonous, but for all of the semantics that argue against Yorke, Burial, and Four Tet’s eligibility, “Ego” in one fell swoop reinvigorates the “supergroup”’s core hope: that an all-star collaboration can equate to more than the sum of its parts. These three artists have crossed paths before—Four Tet and Burial were behind 2009’s just-as-unexpected Moth/Wolf Cub 12”, and both lent remixes for Yorke’s Eraser RMXs (2008)—but the effortless way “Ego” camouflages their talents into a cohesive whole is almost enough to overshadow the tune itself. Identifiable trademarks haunt the outskirts of this A-side, such as Burial’s knack for vocal samples and Four Tet’s bubbling flourishes, but the majority of “Ego”’s near seven-minutes swim within a nexus of rotating and complimentary styles. The ominous mood established within seconds draws clear lineage from Burial, all hollowed out like street-noise underground, but it’s later softened by some elegant Rounds (2003)-era piano. Bending in the slippery middle ground of these styles all the while are Yorke’s vocals, which help condense the track’s sprawling ideas into a more aerodynamic package.

That boost in momentum (and profile) might help “Ego” gain acceptance from the club scene but its true payoff, much like the Moth/Wolf Cub 12”, is revealed in passages worthy of who-did-that dissection. The awe of hearing Burial’s grit and Four Tet’s bounce becoming inexorably tied shows no sign of waning; it’s the cake here, and any collaboration that marginalizes Thom Yorke’s presence to icing is a verified supergroup in my books.