Out Of Nowhere

Let's be clear about one thing: Jimi Tenor is far from the full shilling. It's rumoured that he once appeared on stage perched atop the saddle of a large white horse, and I wouldn't be terribly surprised to discover that Out Of Nowhere was entirely conceived, composed and conducted on horseback, such is the air of unsettling strangeness that pervades most of its ten tracks.

Equestrianism aside, the Finnish berplayboy has come to the conclusion that, if he is to continue to woo the space ladeeeez, he needs the sophisticated nous that only a 60-piece Polish orchestra affords. So it's the usual jazz/soul/sex space oddity from Mr Tenor, albeit with extra B-movie strings to its bow. This works fine when the composition is given a light hand and a tight rein, as on tracks like 'Pylon' and the delicious, shimmering 'Paint The Stars'. But it all starts to go a bit Siobhan Long in the case of 'Blood On Borscht', which sounds suspiciously like an NSO Music For Fun rendition of the A-Team theme. The no-budget sixties-flick hamminess of both the title track and 'Call Of The Wild' is at best only mildly diverting nonsense, sadly crowding out avant soul (gulp!) gems like 'Spell' or 'Better Than Ever'.

Nicole Willis (Tenor's new wife) makes her presence keenly felt on the album, providing spectral vocals for a handful of tracks as well as sharing writing credits to equally good and bad effect.

Out Of Nowhere is the sound of Tenor and Willis in love and in lust, with all the beauty and boredom that entails for the rest of us. In sum then, Planet Tenor: a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there, at least not without the comforting blanket of profound insanity.