Song Yet To Be Sung

Lots of rock stars have proclaimed their kinship for DJ culture, but Perry Farrell's passion seems to be one of the more genuine. [Jul 2001, p.82]

A few dopey passes at world music are forgiven, as he still can't sing.

Despite the dominance of modern technology, this is still an album that adheres to the blueprint Farrell has laid down in his previous two outfits. More importantly, it moves into new musical territory and, coupled with his brilliantly versatile voice, makes 'Song Yet To Be Sung' a triumphant return for the latter-day chameleon of rock.

A thoroughly modern, almost Byronic, solo album that updates past excesses in the context of the present, and ignores Californian darkness in favour of a polished, summery outlook.

Farrell's silvery adenoidal baritone scissors through bass-heavy raggamuffin beats, dreamy swells of keyboard-fueled atmosphere and ticklish breakbeats -- and the slapdash aesthetic somehow coheres. [Aug 2001, p.79]

A totally modern album that manages to nearly ignore his wilful, malicious past and embrace the California smog/sun with a polished fervour that is almost nauseating to witness.

The fusion is sweet yet corny... and occasionally it's just baffling. [Aug 2001, p.132]

He's arriving a bit late to the party, as his union of the electronic and organic is yesterday's news to anyone residing within a few miles of the cutting edge.

Trades smarm-rock for half-baked one-world electro-pop, with predictably unctuous results. [17 Aug 2001, p.72]

It's audacious, sure, but it neither makes sense nor sounds good. [#180, p.102]

Meanders aimlessly, stumbling into bits of tune but never taking them anywhere. [Aug/Sep 2001, p.123]

Farrell's new explorations into electronica rock are satisfying as neither electronica nor rock.