First, let me say that I Heart Cut Chemist. If I could absorb the talents of any musician alive right now, it would be him. Not only is he an insanely deep record collector and a brilliant producer, but he’s also a wonderful DJ and an underrated turntablist. Everything I ever wanted to be really good at, he already is. If there were an altar of Cut Chemist, I would have my own personal kneeler permanently attached at its foot. So you can imagine my surprise when I found out that he had an album coming out on Warner Brothers. I had to admit I fronted at first. “It’s on a major label so it must be wack and full of gratuitous MC’s,” I thought. I really hoped it would be good, because although he was dope in Jurassic 5 with the rare loop + sick-ass drums = hot fire formula, his solo ventures, like the all-time classic “Lesson 6,” were the ones that revealed the true genius lying underneath the b-boy digger exterior. Those closing instrumentals on the Jurassic 5 LP’s were always the best tracks, as they disregarded all hip-hop conventions and brought forth something exciting and unusual using the same dusty building blocks. So now, having amicably parted ways with Jurassic 5, Cut is able to do things his way, and it’s great to see that, in the face of major label loot, he hasn’t abandoned his dig/cut/sample/scratch methodology.

Compared to the density and sheer sound volume of cuts like “Lesson 6" and “Swing Set,” much of 'The Audience’s Listening' sounds downright minimal, with only two or three main ideas given ample space to breathe and expand among the random bits peppered on top. “(My 1st) Big Break,” for example, centers around the tension created by rumbling surf-guitar triplets and pounding marching band drums. Likewise, “The Garden” grooves along on an uncluttered bed of berimbau loops, live guitar, and a cool easy listening string sample. Instead of having to process seven bangin’-ass funk breaks, the listener can instead ponder the sonic qualities of each carefully chosen element. Cut was never one to lounge complacently in the 95 bpm range, and here he continues to keep the tempo high with the aptly-named “Metrorail Thru Space,” the hooky acoustic guitar breakbeater “What’s the Altitude” (featuring MC Hymnal), and the stunning boogaloo-meets-bossa chopfest “A Peak in Time,” all of which are truly inspired sample journeys. Other highlights include the rubbery future disco stomp of “Storm” (a sonic departure for Cut with fine guest shots from Mr. Lif and fellow mad beat scientist Edan) and “Spoon,” a lazy, psychedelic head-nodder led by a gentle guitar melody that recalls RJD2 at his melancholy best. As good as this is, however, I know in my heart of hearts that Cut is capable of more. I’m not expecting him to reinvent the wheel, nor do expect more breakneck breakbeat masterpieces from an aging auteur, but I feel there is still potential to be tapped. The good news is that with this album he’s proved that his tried-and-true beatmaking methods can still yield inventive and highly enjoyable results. If anything, the major label support should help him infiltrate the CD collections of the mainstream crowd, placing his disc alongside those of DJ Shadow and Kruder and Dorfmeister, where he belongs. Then, when his name is in all of our mouths, hopefully he’ll hit us with his and the circle will be complete. Until then, though, this will do just fine.