After a decade as one of Britain's premier techno outfits, Autechre seem to be as determined as ever to show the mainstream no mercy. Instead, the Rochdale-based duo's music is actually growing more and more obscure, almost as if they want to alienate all but their most dedicated fans. Draft 7.30 is about as frustrating an album as you'll hear all year, a stark succession of monotonous beats that's painstakingly constructed but devoid of any emotion or, indeed, meaning. At times, in fact, the rhythms here are so repetitive that you have to check to make sure the CD isn't skipping. It's hard not to respect Autechre's refusal to compromise - but you can't help wishing they'd occasionally deign to decorate their experimentalism with just a hint of melody. Draft 7.30 is an album that's easy to admire. It's also hard to imagine anyone wanting to listen to it more than once.
