oko Ono is trying to destroy pop music. Look at the pattern: a critically lauded band is making albums at the height of its powers, falls under the influence of Yoko, and finds its members taking time off to pursue “artistic interests” in side projects. Next thing you know, the band is gone. Sure, Cibo Matto is still together, but don’t be fooled. This can only be part of a sinister Fluxus plot to take over the airwaves. Laugh now, but don’t blame me when you’re listening to Nam June Paik on the radio.


Since 1999, the Cibo Matto ladies have been indulging their avant-impulses, hanging out at Tonic, and generally keeping quiet. Singer Miho Hatori has been the most visible, providing guest vocals for several of the Automator’s projects, most notably Gorillaz. Her most frequent live performances have been with guitarist Smokey Hormel, delving deeper into the Brazilian idioms hinted at in Stereo-Type A. This EP is their first official release as a duo, prompted by the use of "Ocean In Your Eyes" on the soundtrack of art-house hit Y Tu Mama Tambien.


"Summer Rain" is a pleasant bossa-nova shuffle, highlighted by a muted trumpet burbling through the verses. Vocally, Miho sounds better than she has on either Cibo Matto album, far more confident in her voice, and delivering a relaxed and bright performance. "Blue Glasses" follows much the same template: a light, tasteful song, sure to fit into the background of your local coffeehouse.


"Orixá & Iemanja" creates a layered collage of wordless vocals, but never really gets off the ground, sounding more like an idea for a song than a fully-developed piece. "Nzage", however, is both the most adventurous, and most enjoyable, track. Off-kilter, slightly distorted sounds are coaxed from guitar and trumpet, creating a shifting base for a male\female duet. It’s the most inspired moment on the EP, and the one place where they produce an unexpected sound. The final song, "Ocean In Your Eyes", sounds like an outtake from the Stereo-Type A sessions, with a hip-hop beat tied to a Rio song. Again, it’s a likable song, but nothing that they haven’t done before.


All the songs on this album are enjoyable, written and performed by skilled musicians. The problem is that the anarchic impulses behind Cibo Matto have been suppressed, replaced by polite homages to Brazilian music. It’s hard to know who this EP is intended for: fans of Brazilian music will find nothing essential here, while Cibo Matto fans will be puzzled by its sedate nature. Here’s hoping that Miho throws the bossa-nova back into the blender.