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Ninetynine - The Process (2002)

Melbourne indie quartet Ninetynine are known for their trademark vibraphone-and-Casio instrumentation, their fondness for punchy, melodic 2-1/2-minute pop songs and their dynamic performances with lots of instrument swapping and other antics. Over the years, they have released 3 independent albums and a built up a cult following. However, in the past, their albums have not stood up well in comparison their live shows, always seeming a little flat. Their new album, The Process, changes that.

The Process is the fourth album for Ninetynine, and their first recorded in a 24-track studio on 2-inch tape. And both technically and artistically, it is a quantum leap ahead of their previous albums. The band have spent several years refining their new material in live shows, and it shows in the quality and the way it comes together.

There are 14 songs on the album, with the longest being four and a quarter minutes long, and most being around the 2-3 minute mark. The album kicks off with the title cut, its Casio drum loop and keyboard arpeggios (all played by hand, with no sequencers) getting things moving. This is followed by the stylishly northern-soulish The Specialist. A Portrait starts off almost acapella, and then builds up into uplifting indie-rock. A few songs later, the short, punchy The Conference starts in a burst of vibes and drumming, goes on for one intense verse and then stops abruptly, leading into the languid, vibraphone-driven Kinetic Factory (one of my favourite tracks on the disc).

Former Vivian Girl Amy Clarke takes over vocal duties in the somewhat angsty Great Escapes, after which Cameron Potts shows his middle-eastern interests with Istanbul and the Punishing Heart, and the punk-violin arabesque Baluchistan, a righteous falsetto rant about atrocities under the Taliban and their ilk.

The final song, Static Plain, is a quiet, jazzy, somewhat wistful number, ending the album on an introspective, bittersweet note, with Laura Macfarlane's voice softly floating over layers of symphonic keyboards and violins.

The packaging also deserves comment. Ninetynine have ditched their trademark graph paper background and numerical album titles, and gone for a different, more polished look. The Process comes in a Digipak with glossy printing and a booklet containing some of Cameron's photographs taken mostly in the Middle East. The overall impression is one of quality and attention to detail; that this is a work of art long in the making.

It is telling to compare The Process to their earlier albums. The spiky indie-pop of 99 and 767 has evolved into something much more intricate and textured, and yet with a greater sense of vitality. The way the various parts fit together seamlessly, whilst maintaining a strong momentum, is very impressive. Laura's voice has also developed, from the raucous half-yelled riot-grrl timbres on her early recordings into an instrument capable of controlled power, sweet clarity and great emotional depth.

With The Process, Ninetynine transcend the kids-with-Casios garage-band stereotype and deliver a work of maturity and sophistication, and one which can be appreciated by people who don't wear black-framed glasses. This is IMHO one of the essential albums of 2002.

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