Last March, I had the opportunity to interview Chicago uber-producer Jim O'Rourke at his place of residence. I snatched it up. While I wasn't nuts about his latest release, Eureka, I was a fan of his other albums, his production techniques, and his collaborations with David Grubbs as Gastr Del Sol. That I finally had the chance to meet and talk with O'Rourke seemed a great honor.

The interview went smoothly enough. We talked about his fascination with Japanese artist Mimiyo Tomozawa (whose actually- pretty- gross artwork adorned the cover of Eureka), Portuguese artist Nuno Canavarro, O'Rourke's work on the then- forthcoming Stereolab, Superchunk and Aluminum Group LPs, among other things. Later, O'Rourke asked what I thought of Eureka. I told him I thought it was pretty good, which I did, for the most part. (The album had its share of great tracks along with its share of mediocrity.) We moved on.

Later that day, Jim logged onto Pitchfork to read what I'd said about Eureka. If you'll recall (and if you don't, the review is in the archive), the review was about how I was disappointed in the album because I knew that O'Rourke was capable of better things. In fact, I went out of my way to say that the album had some genuinely awesome moments. Sadly, Jim took the review very personally, and is apparently unwilling to discuss the issue any further, as he no longer responds to my e-mails.

What a sad shock it is to meet someone you have a tremendous respect for and realize that they're not exactly the person you hoped they might be. Of course, now I come at Jim O'Rourke's albums from a different perspective-- I still respect him as one of the great musicians of late '90s, but I have very little respect for him as a person.

That said, Halfway to a Threeway succeeds where Eureka failed. (Maybe Jim actually took my advice.) Threeway trims away the saccharine Bacharach stylings and aimless experimentalism flaunted by Eureka, opting instead for beautifully arranged orchestral pop and lighter- than- air percussion. The opening track, "Fuzzy Sun," does bear more than just a passing resemblence to Eureka's standout track "Ghost Ship in a Storm," grabbing a bar or two from that track's melody, but O'Rourke works enough magic in to make the song its own hummable entity.

It's followed by the summery instrumental "Not Sport, Martial Art," whose intertwining guitars and muted horns recall a less artsy Tortoise, and reflects O'Rourke's work on Sam Prekop's solo debut. But the EP concludes with what is arguably some of Jim's best material to date-- "The Workplace" is a musically autumnal ode to an office enviroment with playful lyrics ("Women look good here/ With their suits on/ It suits them"), and the gorgeous meloncholy title track, a gently- strummed acoustic ballad that beats even Archer Prewitt's stellar "I'll Be Waiting" at its own game.

Listening to Halfway to a Threeway reminds me what a complete shame it is that Jim O'Rourke's kneejerk reaction to my review of Eureka should spoil what comraderie we might have had when crossing paths at local venues. It won't ruin my appreciation for the bulk of his catalog.