Thievery Corporation: "Tower Seven"

There’s something to be said for standing one’s ground, especially in today’s hyperbole-spewing, masterpiece-per-week blogosphere. Washed Out’s Ernest Greene has been lapping up praise (or what some might call backhanded compliments) regarding his full-length’s loyalty to the chill-wave movement while patient acts like Wire have reemerged trendy again thanks to a new generation of listeners. But these are exceptions, presented in stark relief to one-trick bands that either failed to gain a second wind or were pressured into uncharted territories and never returned.

We can add Thievery Corporation to the list of stubborn survivors. And I write that begrudgingly because the duo of Rob Garza and Eric Hilton have only delivered hints of their early—and admittedly dated—brilliance since 2000’s pace-setter The Mirror Conspiracy. Their brand of lounge-tossed, reggae-dub dancehall remains so identifiable and fashionable on the cusp of their fifteen-year anniversary that pointing out diminishing returns seems a bitter waste of breath. Besides, every argument one could nitpick about Thievery Corporation’s output being pedestrian counters as evidence of the duo’s popularity; people prefer their downtempo laid-back, innocuous, and tasteful, so Thievery Corporation play dutifully within those expectations.

Still, I’d approach Culture of Fear single “Tower Seven” as a pessimist for the sole purpose of being reminded why Thievery Corporation are among the few American electronic acts continuously headlining major amphitheater tours in their own country. Where The Cosmic Game (2005) found the duo surrendering their own globetrotting voice—an instrumental masala joining Indian, Brazilian, and Jamaican elements with British trip-hop—in favor of exotic guest-vocalists (Sleepy Wonder, Gunjan), “Tower Seven” instead channels the group’s border-less beginnings.

Opening on a sumptuous bass hook and blossoming into a dewy groove of familiar breakbeats and dubbed-out ambience, “Tower Seven” squanders none of its near eight-minutes forming in the clouds. It’s already a fully operational addition to some as-yet-unveiled chill-out compilation, locked-in and satisfying, when Garza and Hilton dial up the tension with brittle, xx styled guitars lurking underneath. Constantly shifting gears while obeying its fundamental head-nod-per-beat quotient, Culture of Fear‘s centerpiece presents nary a fracture in the mould Thievery Corporation singlehandedly perfected over a decade ago. Yet there’s something comforting about the mantle they loiter upon, and knowing that Thievery Corporation will be contently plumbing the shallow depths of narcotic downtempo when today’s accelerated hype machine overwhelms us. As a contribution to that reliable legacy, “Tower Seven” reclaims the mysticism that lay like a shimmering underbelly on their earlier records.

Throughout their predictable routine of lush grooves and international accoutrements, Thievery Corporation prove incredibly disciplined at what they do best. Namely, satisfying those with meager expectations. And on hot summer days, when the humidity clings like a wet towel around our necks, we really can’t handle anything more complicated than that.