Remix albums rarely have purely noble intentions. From underground promotional vehicles to hobbyist experiments for props at local watering holes, the concept of backing familiar voices with unexpected surroundings had been all but lost to simpler production clinics with high profile guests. That is, until Danger Mouse (best known for his work with Jemini and Sage Francis) turned a color inference into an underground phenomenon with his bootleg conceptual assault, The Grey Album, a remix album that pairs the vocals of Jay-Z's Black Album with The Beatles' legendary White Album.

By the most basic rules of the homemade remix, the record works: The vocals are on beat, pauses are natural, and the background always works thematically with the lyrics. In these more technical areas, the record effectively succeeds. But the most exciting part of any remix project is hearing whether or not the producer can save your least favorite songs, and this is clearly where DM shines. "Moment of Clarity" was the kind of awkwardly misplaced synthetic emotion expected from posthumous Tupac records. Here, however, it's a stomping guitar monster, with John Lennon's chopped vocals croaking like one of its victims. And while the original "Dirt Off Your Shoulder" sounded like Timbo going through the motions (if he decided to morph into The Neptunes for a day), Danger Mouse's rendition is like Prefuse 73 meeting David Banner, arguing chops over handclaps and eventually finding middle ground through a second strangulation of Mr. Lennon.

Of course, it isn't all so progressive. Similar to the fates of "December 4th" and "Change Clothes", "What More Can I Say" works on the tone it develops, but ultimately ends up too simple to hold attention. "My 1st Song" is enjoyable for the harsh drums that DM tracks and the closing statements that have Jay-Z doing the Charleston over "Cry Baby Cry". Of course, Shawn Carter's elastic speed-rap is near impossible to capture, as evidenced by the distracting guitar-crashing effect which closes off every few couplets. Most glaringly, no remix attempt is made on "The Threat", arguably Jay-Z's hardest performance on The Black Album, while "Lucifer" is sacrificed at the altar of conceptualism: DM simply inverts a couple Jigga vocals, chops up vocals and pianos, and inserts a bass riff and orchestral bits from "I'm So Tired" and "Revolution 9".

Though DM's takes are obviously more rock-centric than the original Jay-Z tracks, they still manage to be undeniably in tune with the spirit of hip-hop. "PSA" is turned from a menacing spin on a Black Moon standard to woodland crunk with rings of Robin Hood flute, acoustic finger flicking and truncated outbursts from George Harrison. And "99 Problems" turns the obvious rock nod into a slightly more pronounced clinic in "Helter Skelter" headbanging, with panning walls of guitar sound and a chugging main riff that, in this context, reminds me of Kool Keith's "I'm Destructive".

Danger Mouse was recently issued a cease-and-desist by EMI regarding this project's Beatle-sampling. While he insists the record was intended only as a promotional item, 3,000 copies are already in circulation, and one can't help but feel the loom of a forthcoming lawsuit. So the question now is, was the creative payoff of this project worth the possibilities of this potential worst-case-scenario? Well: While The Grey Album is truly one of the more interesting pirate mashups ever done, it ultimately fails at the hands of perfectionism with several pieces sounding rushed to beat some other knucklehead to his clever idea. Additionally, the missing songs and occasionally poor tracking means the project take a few hits. Still, it's stronger than it ought to be given the disparity between the two artists, and as far as raw experimentation goes, it further proves DM as a wildly imaginative producer. Even taken out of the context of listenability, The Grey Album will end up the trivia answer we'll always love to submit.