The red streaks running down the front of Theo Keating's latest outing certainly look more like paint than any real bodily fluids, and does the name 'Cells' refer to those millions of little buggers that constitute our human bodies, or are we talking prison, maybe even torture? Whichever kind of cell it actually refers to might just be for him to know and us to find out. In that case we're going for the darker side of capture, interrogation and maybe even more macabre treatment. The name of Fake Blood is a possible pointer towards that side of things too. While 'Cells' has some lighter tracks that have the potential to transfer straight to the commercial clubs, the overriding sense is of something more sinister.
The first clue comes in opening track 'Yes/No' which depending on your age and musical preference, samples DJ Shadow's 'Organ Donor', Giorgio Moroder's 'Tears,' J.S. Bach's 'Passacaglia and Fuge' or the theme to Garth Marenghi's Darkplace. The reasonably routine 'Airbrushed' lightens the load a little but then it's Halloween again on the slightly harrowing 'Phantom Power' which gives us some big beats and some bass that means business, although you can forget any dubstep leanings, and the ending drifts off to somewhere darker still. A further clue is the ominously titled 'End Of Days'; this might be a good old floor-filling techno album but we're not getting away without an unhealthy dose of suspense and horror.
All of which makes the pumping, light and soulful anthems 'All In The Blink' and 'Let It Go' feel a touch out of place, although the latter slams in some coarse electronic grinding that gives it a menacing air at points. Darkness descends again on 'Another World', a track that sounds like it requires an exorcism, but by the time you reach 'Sideshow' things begin to feel repetitive, happily this is only briefly, indicating that maybe 'Sideshow' could have been omitted without causing any harm, and the same could be said for 'London' later on. 'Soft Machine' electric shocks the monster back into life and closer 'Contact' is wonderfully warped psychological space techno (and you don't hear that every day). Fake Blood by name perhaps, but you suspect Keating is baying for real blood on this album.
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