In the first 27 seconds of Sound Tribe Sector 9's Artifact — its first album in five years — listeners know what the rest of the disc is all about: "Is this gonna be one of those…" a man asks while another replies "Musical story? Yes." What follows is a journey into the surreal, a story filled with delicate complexities and whispered textures not easy to decipher, challenging all who tune in.

Producing the album entirely on its own (and on its own label 1320 Records), Sound Tribe Sector 9 — while known for its live performances — takes full advantage of the studio and the seemingly limitless possibilities it provides, embracing a boundlessness the stage inevitably inhibits. Ambient noises, muffled voices, beeps and blips all make their way onto Artifact as the quintet — Hunter Brown (guitar), Jeff Lerner (percussion), David Murphy (bass), David Phipps (keyboards), Zach Velmer (drums) — show that electronic meddling is an instrument they all can play.

From the beginning, hushed sonic landscapes trigger a feeling of expansiveness, as though you're traveling a wide plain covering numerous genres.

"Tokyo" allows you to experience the Japanese metropolis without having to make the several thousand-mile trek, creating an image of the bustling city at night complete with colorful lights as the band adds layer upon layer of sound.

The addition of vocals from Audio Angel on several tracks, turn mellow grooves into dance-infused numbers suitable for clubbing.

"Possibilities" evokes thoughts of Moby's 18, that is until Brown's jazz-inspired noodling kicks in and you're reminded that Artifact is more than just an electronica album.

But what stands out the most is the extreme fluidity on Artifact. A natural progression unfolds as Sound Tribe Sector 9 moves from one song to the next. Near imperceptible transitions melt one beat into another, without becoming too muddled or fuzzy; there really is no need for track breaks. "Better Day" sends you right into "By the Morning Sun" and it's not until you glance at your stereo that you realize one song has ended and another begun.

In fact, the tranquility and subtleness is so overpowering that by the end of the album you're nearly lulled to sleep. Clocking in at over 70 minutes, and with 20 tracks, Artifact is simply too long. There's no doubt the band wanted to utilize all the space it had, but after a time the album becomes repetitive and subsequently tiring. Unless you approach each track with hyper-attentiveness, chances are at some point your thoughts will travel elsewhere and Artifact becomes nothing more than feel-good background music. Sound Tribe Sector 9 demands a lot from its listeners, not necessarily a bad thing, but for those not up to the task, sensory overload is inevitable.

Grade: BC

This article appeared in The Marquette Tribune on Mar. 17 2005.