I seem to be intent on reviewing all of Toby Driver's work here, so it seems like a review of his solo album is in order. In The L..L..Library Loft is his second release for John Zorn's Tzadik records (the first being Kayo Dot's Choirs Of The Eye). As you might expect from a release where he has complete creative control, Driver's solo work captures all his musical whims that are simply too experimental for Kayo Dot. It's fair to say that Toby Driver seems to have perhaps made this record more for himself than his fans, much of what's on display here being merely recordings of avant-garde ideas Driver thought might be interesting, even if they didn't work on a purely musical level. This is particularly noticeable in Brown Light Upon Us, but I'll come to that later on in my review. In The L..L..Library Loft may just be the most inaccesible thing he's put his input into yet, taking in sinister modern classical that sounds like an even artier version of what he attempted on Blue Lambency Downward, nightmarish avant-drone, and the just plain unclassifiable. Every track here runs over 9 minutes, with two running over 15.

Curiously-titled opener Kandu Vs Corky (Horrorca) is one of the more conventional pieces here, sounding like something that could just about fit in on Dowsing Anemone With Copper Tongue. It starts ominously enough, with uneasy, low-pitched strings, and a tinkling bell playing a motif that is carried throughout the piece (indeed, this first track represents Toby Driver's fascination with bells). Throughout the first nine or so minutes, it's incredibly claustrophobic, tense music, numerous false climaxes growing into a new, louder section where Driver basically loses it, howling manically over pounding drums and shrieking violins, and that familiar motif getting louder and more insistent each time. Just as things can't get anymore full-on, the music drops back to it's original, low-key form. A powerful start to the album, then.

The Lugubrious Library Loft is a piece where each instrument takes two performers to operate it, right down to the vocals (you'll have to do some research yourself to find out the details, as it's incredibly complex and would take far too long to explain here). It's every bit as tense as Kandu Vs Corky, with odd, nagging piano melodies and those curious vocals being disrupted midway through by furious flourishes of violin and a bizarre anti-guitar solo, before transitioning into some crushing drone metal that would make Sunn O))) proud. It's not as interesting if you're not aware of the concept behind it, but it's another strong track, if a bit meandering compared to the monolithic Kandu Vs Corky.

It's at Brown Light Upon Us, however, that we hit a snag. It's at this point Toby Driver loses all sense of his audience and decides to regale us with the sounds of music being played in another room. There's more to it than that, I admit (check his site for further details, once again) but when it goes on for 17 whole minutes, much of which is residual bass frequencies seeping through the walls and muffled poundings, it smacks of “nice experiment that really didn't need to be taken as far as it was”. Maybe my sound system can't pick up much of the intricacies of the recording, I don't know, but much of what's going on here is completely lost on me, and I reckon most people will be hard pushed to make it to the end.

Luckily, normal service resumes with Eptaceros, the closest thing we get to a conventional song here. Some fans cite this as Toby Driver's finest hour, and while I wouldn't go that far it's certainly worthy of the man who's written the vast bulk of three of the greatest albums of the 21^st Century. It's a pleasant respite from the frightening soundscapes seen elsewhere on the record. The familiar clarinet, piano and violin seen throughout the album are here tools used for good rather than evil, creating a lush backing for Toby Driver's plaintive, Thom-Yorke-crossed-with-Jeff-Buckley vocals. It's still more challenging than most music out there, of course, but compared to what precedes it it's practically easy listening, despite those odd, strangled-sounding horns throughout.

In The L..L..Library Loft has moments of greatness, but yet I can't wholeheartedly recommend it. It's too flawed, too self-indulgent, too long-winded for that. Toby Driver is a musical genius, no doubt, but he really does need the environment of a band to keep him in check. Worth a listen, certainly, and Eptaceros is a keeper, but those looking to delve deeper into the great man's work would do well to listen to Tartar Lamb's Sixty Metonymies, which I'm sure I'll get around to reviewing eventually. Enter at your own risk then, I suppose, and don't say I didn't warn you.