Strata by Funkturm (ador419)

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If illbient were headquartered in Baghdad rather than in Brooklyn, Funkturm (aka Richard Gallon) would be the genre's primary cloak-and-dagger operative. His latest disc, 'Strata', while closely aligned with the poisoned beats and scuttling Middle Eastern rhythms of Muslimgauze, resonates with its own agenda of double-agent conspiracy and unrest.

Funkturm litters the tracks on the CD with captured short-wave radio broadcasts, interrupted and disrupted telephone conversations and the mechanical sounds of outdated recording equipment. On 'Patina' the whirling squeal of fast-forwarding audiotape and stuttering spoken words cut across layers of forceful percussive rhythms, clashing nicely with each other. 'Half-Remembered' is in the same vein but with more discord; ghostly voices trail through the track against an electronic volley of distorted shots and explosions. It's as if Funkturm were eavesdropping on his own output - bugging his own beats and replaying his own indiscretions for all to hear.

On the disc's less frenetic moments, the covert becomes infused with heavy-lidded dub and Arabic funk, rippling out waves of discontent to the listener. A quick listen to 'Just Say Yes' reveals a steady rat-a-tat of reflective groove, but as the track winds down the noise of sloppy audio surveillance worms its way back in, scattering its leftover digital garbage across the speakers. This trash blows into 'SnD', desolating the opening minutes of the track with a numbing sense of isolation, until the atmosphere is cleared with strident rounds of jazzy syncho-beats.

Funkturm composed 'Strata' before the USA's 2003 war in Iraq started. However, the current landscape of self-policing paranoia and suicide bombers merge on this disc, creating a kind of surreal sound-world of cyclical self-aggression and self-control. In short, it's the incidental music to an American wet nightmare.