By Steve Weinstein
By Bryan Bierman
By Lindsey Rhoades
By Chaz Kangas
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Jena Ardell
By Jesse Sendejas Jr.
By Katherine Turman
Dosh creates his music on the fly, "samples his own drums, keyboards, and effects and layers them right there in front of you," says Anticon label manager Baillie Parker. "There's really no one like him."
The drawback is that, when a track doesn't have a consistent beat, or key, or harmonic direction, and you're creating forms as you goand none dominates, even for a momentthen you need a great sense of form; you've got to be a Miles Davis or a Brian Eno, able to create an organizing principle out of a trumpet blast or discover a sound sculpture in electronic hum. The self-titled Dosh album has a couple of strong cuts, but so far Dosh's sense of form is very non-great. He reduces soundscape to moodscape, turns synth washes into dreamy, drifty clichéstoo much atmosphere and too little event. It's music for people who think wind chimes are profoundly beautiful. It lacks an active and busy population. But there'll be moments when, while we're watching the doe nibbling away at the leaves, some cowboy drummer'll come whoopy-ti-yaying through. So there's hope for this guyand for his implicit adventure: "Let's create an unknown world and then go wandering around in it, trying to get our bearings."
Dosh plays the Knitting Factory September 15.