A trio of laptop improvisers is not a positive mental image. While the idea of watching one pale face illuminated by the glow of a Mac notebook is a little sad, a triumvirate of techie geeks in a club sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and clicking like mad is downright pathetic. It's like paying for the privilege of watching a web design startup code HTML.

Fortunately, you can put this unsavory image out of your mind when listening to the second live collaboration between Christian Fennesz, Jim O'Rourke and Peter Rehberg (aka Pita). The fact that The Return of FennO'Berg was constructed live on some stage while a roomful of people with a drink in their hands watched these guys at their computers has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not you'll enjoy the CD. This here is audio, folks, and on The Return of FennO'Berg, these three opt for the subtle, let the tracks build and develop at an organic pace, and allow for the intrusion of the unexpected.

The ultimate doubletake on the first collaboration comes during "Fenn O'Berg Theme" when John Barry's score to Moonraker struggled to free itself from the clutches of the laptop clatter. A similarly inspired track here is "A Viennese Tragedy". While two CPU jockeys stay busy chopping up Mac-processed fragments of static, bits of orchestral music keep popping out of the primordial stew. Finally, a long section of sweeping, romantic orchestral music is released, serving as a perfect contrast to the scattering noise. The few minutes when the strings soar above the scraping sounds of industry is just so goddamn beautiful, reminding me once again why Godspeed You Black Emperor!'s tape-heavy first album is far and away my favorite thing they've done. Time collapses completely as the track plays, and "A Viennese Tragedy" becomes a fluid mass of dark energy that could have come from anywhere.

Nothing else on The Return of FennO'Berg quite approaches "A Viennese Tragedy" for me, but the record is still filled with great moments, and one-ups the first installment in terms of drama and overall listenability. "Riding Again" is a quivering, Vaseline-lensed pan across the lounge music graveyard, and the sound of warbling vibes and randomly firing organs dying a slow death reminds me a little of a noisier take on some of Fennesz' Endless Summer material. "We Will Diffuse You" ends the album on a high note when, after several minutes of a slowly gurgling bass riff, some incredibly lush guitar drones take over-- the bass anchor throb is enough to massage your solar plexus, while the soft brush of the harmonics whisper softly in your ear. Only "Floating My Boat"-- at 5½ minutes the shortest of these four tracks by some distance-- is less than good.

I've no idea what it was like to watch this go down in person (and who knows what it actually sounded like-- the sleeve mentions six months of editing that takes place in two cities), but there is no question that this little aluminum disc is brimming with pleasant surprises.

-Mark Richardson, September 25th, 2002