One of the primary freedoms associated with electronic music is the ability to create sounds and textures that simply do not exist in nature. Like the pilgrims who sought the New World for religious freedom, the uncharted territory of the synthesizer drew refugees seeking sonic freedom. Unfortunately, as the genre grew, electronic music became associated with just as many restrictions as other methods. The oddest of these is the constant pursuit of sounds that feel "organic", which has led to weak string pads, flaccid percussive sounds and watered-down music. Luckily, a brave few artists stand out from the morass of wires. Andrew Coleman is among them. While at the moment I hesitate to describe Coleman as the type of visionary that the Orb or Richard James have proven to be, this disc clearly demonstrates that he listens to his internal BPM and takes advantage of the capabilities his machines have to offer. By skillfully wedding a rich piano tone to unnatural accompaniment, he achieves a steady state that hovers between the organic and the plastic.

On his first full-length release under his own name (you may know him better as the guy behind Animals on Wheels), Coleman touches on the paths blazed by the aforementioned artists, but thoroughly infuses his compositions with his own style. The opening track, "Too Early By Far", takes a percolating sixteenth-note pattern and marries it to a languid, free piano solo. The rhythmic end is filled out by curious sounds that act as drummer bombs do in jazz -- that is, they accent key moments and push things forward rather than providing a cyclic pattern. This absence of repetition is also key to making the melodic theme of the piano work. Whereas far too many electronic musicians settle for a cut and paste approach to composition, by allowing the piano to roll out like an improvisational pianist doodling on the ivories, Coleman gives his music life through its movement rather than from sound banks.

Coleman professes that "Contradiction has always been an important idea for me." This lust for juxtaposition is a defining motif of his work. "Pi Four" again uses piano until it is overtaken by crooning feedback. While the comparison between beauty and noise could easily seem trite, Coleman makes it work. The contradiction between melody and white noise is also employed in "Plot Lost Sixteen", which utilizes a sound that morphs from tinkling to whining over the top of a rolling trip-hop beat.

Overall, the rhythms on this disc are less frenetic than the drum and bass that marked Coleman's earlier work as Animals on Wheels -- but exceptions to this rule exist. One example is the fine "Escalator Apartment", on which drum patterns crash and tumble over one another like clumsy children. It is the overall relaxation of the beat, however, the displays Coleman's growth. By stretching beyond the simple contradiction of touching melody and jarring rhythm, he is beginning to push himself into new and exciting territory. If his next disc exhibits the same sort of growth seen on Everything Was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt, Coleman will clearly be at the forefront of electronic music...and if his between-album growth is less dramatic, Coleman will still have two excellent albums to his name.