Pitchfork

Recoil is the brainchild of former Depeche Mode drummer/ keyboardist Alan Wilder, who left the Mode in '95. Alan doesn't sing here; he recruited Douglas McCarthy (of Nitzer Ebb) Maggie Estep (a noted spoken word performer) Hildia Cambell (who sang on the Mode's "Songs of Faith and Devotion") and Siobhan Lynch (an all- around nice gal) to rock the mic for him while he plays the music and sets the mood.

It's clear that Wilder is more interested in texture than songs, as much of Unsound Methods feels like the score to a b-movie "Blade Runner" sequel. A black celebration, but without the celebration part. Spooky. Mysterious. Dark. Dark like that side of the moon we know so well. Or the slower parts of Peter Gabriel's So. Or Jan Hammer on 'ludes. It captures a kind of mid- '80s sound which reminds me of when compact discs first came out and the artists wanted to exploit the new technology.

How much you like Unsound Methods will depend on your expectations, so let me help you out. Don't expect much melody. (Half the lyrics are spoken word, and, like a lot of spoken work, they're pretty pretentious.) Don't expect any good beats. (For an album by a drummer, the rhythms are a plodding nightmare.) Don't expect subtlety. (The song "Stalker" contains samples of a guy dialing a telephone and saying "I know what you're wearing" and "I've been watching you.") Instead, expect something like the bleakest Depeche Mode, but without Martin Gore's perfect- pitch voice. Expect poetry slam- style vocal histrionics by Maggie Estep. (She grates me, but hey, some people dig poetry slams.) Lastly, expect to put those new speakers through their paces as the sound, while overproduced, is the very definition of "digital audio."