When faced with the task of finding new adjectives to describe the music of Cornelius and his forthcoming EP, Gum, nothing worked better than the past. Hence, the following story from the annals of Yahoo for Cornelius' 2000 release, Point.

Gum, and the blistering, mind-altering MP3 of the same name, finds Cornelius taking Pro Tools by the cajones to alter his maniacal pop proclivities. As with Cornelius records past, "Gum" manipulates pleasing pop vocals, chopped and sampled over a frenetic beat. But as one listen reveals, Cornelius isn't content to let pop bygones be bygones. Restlessly creative, Cornelius remains one step ahead of the game. Hold on to your brain before you take this wild MP3 ride.

"This is not a happy or sad record," says Japanese indie-rock icon Keigo Oyamada, aka Cornelius (regarding Point). "I wanted that normal feeling. I wanted an album that depended on where you focused in the music. It could sound happy or rock-ish or quiet and peaceful. After 'Bird Watching,' it is happy, then--kaboom! It drops down to 'I Hate Hate.'"

With Point, Japan's answer to Phil Spector and Beck turns in another album of flea-market electronica and sumptuous retro-rock. Cornelius has always been a musical chameleon--1997's Fantasma proved that, but Point achieves greater uniformity of vision through his unique rainforest rock and lush vocal harmonies. It's almost like Brian Wilson coaching Cornelius's namesake from the '70s film classic Planet Of The Apes. This is music for the trees, for the apes, and for the humans, too.

"Dance music is one inspiration for Point," says Cornelius at a Manhattan Starbucks, "but also, I was thinking of listening to a Walkman while keeping the beat going while walking. I thought of walking and listening and the beat keeps going. I was thinking of enjoying the music while walking, listening to the rhythm, and looking at the atmosphere and getting the vibes."

Cornelius actually doesn't like Starbucks. For that matter, he doesn't like hamburgers, French fries, milkshakes, Milky Ways, T-bone steaks, Italian heroes, salami, pastrami, or apple pie. He thinks American food is, like, the pits.

"Not much of a food culture here," he complains. His big doe-eyes make you like him anyway. "I like the architecture and the clothes and the movies here, but when I look at the food, it is all steak and hamburgers. Not much there."

"So what is so hot about Japanese cuisine?" I ask. "Raw fish? Sushi that kills? And those stupid idol girls--what is that all about, Cornelius? What is up with that?"

"That is a new trend," he explains, "'morning idols' or 'morning daughters'--like an idol doll, but they are kids. There are 15 of them, they all wear cute clothes and act all cute. But they are not sexy at all." Right.

Back to the music. Rearranged with computer and sampler, the album's menu includes nature sounds (water, wind, birds), lush vocal harmonies, house-music beats, and acoustic and punk-rock guitars. Like a musical herringbone pattern, the songs follow a circuit from computer romanticism ("Brazil") to fluffy house music ("Point Of View Point") to Willie Wonka rainforest samba ("Bird Watching...") and fulminating punk ("I Hate Hate"). Oscillating between channels, guitars and keyboards run amok, while drums and bass mesh in clockwork counterpoint. Point doesn't sound like computer rock, but with its looped esthetic, it most certainly is.

"I wasn't necessarily thinking about having loops within the songs," Cornelius explains. "I just needed a certain sound to create other sounds, to let other sounds come in. I wanted to keep it simple and maintain that walking beat--you keep walking until the end."

Cornelius has remixed "Brand New Day" for Sting ("He played my version live"), makes his own D.I.Y watches and turntables, and runs the Trattoria record label (which used to distribute really bad Bill Wyman records, but now sticks to Japanese rock and some offbeat bands from Illinois). Where does Cornelius find time for his music, and what keeps him inspired in this age of greed and not much plenty?

"Images from my childhood at the river," he says, "or turning the water on and off before my mom came home. Or just scratching the rug. Little things like that keep me happy."

Cornelius
"Gum" (mp3)
from "Gum"
(Everloving)

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Los Updates!: I am a sucker for almost everything on the Nacional Records roster, from the innovative Nortec Collective and the Pinker Tones, to up and comers Los Updates. Forget about illegal immigration taking US jobs, these Mexican nationals are reinventing global electronica with a zesty folk beat. Following paths perhaps laid down by the Incas, the collective Nacional Records sound is one of deep tradition crossed with a humorous sense of electronic cut and paste.

Los Updates is the new electronic rock project from Jorge Gonzalez, lead singer, primary songwriter and bassist for Chilean rock band Los Prisioneros. Formed in 1982, Los Prisioneros sold more than 1.5 million albums as their electro-pop/new wave sound spread across Latin America. Following the group's break-up in 2006, Gonzalez re-located to Mexico City where he immersed himself in the rich local dance rock scene. His new album is a collection of minimal electronic songs titled Los Updates. Feast for the senses? Like blotter acid sucka.

Los Updates
"Aviador" (mp3)
from "Los Updates"
(Nacional Records)

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