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Casino Versus Japan
Whole Numbers Play the Basics
Carpark, 2002

Casino versus Japan has made a name for himself by being largely unavailable. His well-received second album, Go Hawaii, was out of print for a surprisingly long time (though it's been recently reissued by Wobblyhead), and several of his other recordings have only seen the light of day on limited-run vinyl. It's the record-buying public's loss, as Casino versus Japan (born Erik Kowalksi) continues to serve up dreamy synth-pop of the highest order from his homebase of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Whole Numbers Play the Basics, Casino's third full-length, reveals itself in loosely veiled arrangements, like a series of opium dreams. Deceptively simple and intentionally "naÔve," Mr. Kowalksi loops drum patterns around vintage synth chords and arpeggios, turning out comfortingly soft and melancholy music in an autumnally spaced-out, 1970s mode.

Mr. Kowalski occasionally comes across like he's re-imagining Kruder and Dorfmeister for the flannel-around-the-waist set of high school rejects. Heavy-lidded, repetitive and probably stoned a couple hours ago, Casino versus Japan is perhaps the new face of the curious and much maligned sub-genre known as "downtempo." These sad-eyed teens listen to Morrissey and get beat up for it, long ago gave up on keg parties and count on Casino versus Japan's warm tones to shield the deranged winds of adolescent popularity.

Mr. Kowalski approaches his music with true affection and subdivides Whole Numbers with a limited palette. The plotted points—simple, repeating patterns of drums, sad waves of '80s synthesizer melody and dense, dark reverb—are rearranged and refigured over and over on Whole Numbers, and the results are highly reminiscent of last years excellent Via 10" (Wobblyhead).

But while Via's two tracks of slow-motion pop are a perfect, blunted kiss, the sheer aural rigidity of this instantly recognizable style grows tiresome over a 45-minute record. Whole Numbers ends up sounding like successive attempts at the same song, presenting a simplistic universe unto its own with rules, expectations and embedded patterns every bit as frustrating and satisfying as those in our daily surroundings.

Ben Sterling
October 18, 2002