Chill-out! A useful imperative at the worst of times but a genre of music? Please. You might as well divide all sounds into those you could conceivably dance to and those that you could conceivably rest/pray/meditate to: such a specious dichotomy. In the parlance of our unimaginative times the most appropriate way to describe the tracks on this album might, however, involve mentioning “chill grooves.”

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There, I’ve gone and like, you know, contributed to the mangling of the English language again. Lucky I’ve got a copy of Born On The 24th of July, then, or I might be dropping my haitches (and Cs) and diagnosing things to be “ill” left, right and the third way. What’s preventing me, obviously, is the distraction of ten tracks’ worth of abject psychological portraiture fleshed out on skeletal sequenced grooves, connecting and emerging bone-by-bone. Luring me in is the cascading delayed guitar signature of Sweet Butterfly with all the distraction it affords. The reso pad back-up is familiarly alluring too, and take or leave the cheesy vocals, we’re talking blissed out Massive Attack here, which is unlikely to be a bad thing.

Born in Matlock, England, Webster realized his passion for music in his teens; he began by playing with various Sheffield electronic based bands in the 80s. He then moved to the U.S. after working with luminaries such as Juan Atkins, Derrick May and Kevin Saunderson. Webster has also released music under a variety of pseudonyms (Furry Freaks, Love From San Francisco, Presence) and his work as a record producer has gained him considerable respect and recognition.

“There’s something about your sex, sugar / No, no you know it’s good…” ok, track 2 has already flattered me into submission. Ready comes on all soulful as if inspired by Prince, with some lovely details – shimmering cymbals, crying clean guitars, woodwind glissandi and a xylophone attempting some hesitant Morse code. The kit sounds great with a distorted kick drum and crisp snare, as Terra Deva acts a breathy ghetto counsellor offering – “when you’re ready…” – the harmony laden conditional hook.

Be No-one is obviously, but cleverly, assembled in a sequencer. A reso synth with envelope filter attached remains constant while popping squelchy bass, string pads, and bell-like step delay piano octaves appear and withdraw. The intimated vocal and sax samples, unassuming in the mix, are a nice touch too. This could easily be Basement Jaxx, Groove Armada, early Daft Punk or any other denizens of the refrigerated side of things. There is not so much a main vocal line as fragments of one, and a sax intrusion that, although hinting at Sade territory, possesses a commendable tone that Lester Young would be proud of.

The Gift of Freedom, which follows, is ostensibly about “existence” and how to “declare” it. Did I go through the wrong door in customs? Jaxx-y bass, some wind chime samples and background sax and DX-7 electric piano define the timbre with vocals by Sara Jay (Cf. Mezzanine by Massive Attack). The rest of the album ebbs rather than flows, but then this is a positive trait for music designed to repetitively seduce you to sleep. In a good way.

If you expect more from your music than contemplative wallpaper, expect to be chilled in all the wrong ways; if you however need an antidote to the hustle and bustle of whatever the latest “hybrid garage and hip-hop” sound is, you could do worse. D.Rose

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