or the uninitiated, these longtime audio pranksters are schooled in the art of Negativland lawsuits and cut-up collages. By releasing influential reconstructions like the “Whipped Cream Mixes,” a single combining Herb Alpert and Public Enemy that helped found the modern genre mash-up craze, they have garnered their own devoted, independent fan base. Culled primarily from songs previously available from their website and painfully obscure compilations, Plagiarythm Nation serves as a veritable resume of what the Evolution Control Committee have been up to during the last seven years since their last album, Double the Phat and Still Tasteless.


The opening track, “Star Spangled Bologna,” sets the tone for the entire album. By appropriating a stock recording of “The Star Spangled Banner”, a choral rendition of the infamous Oscar Meyer Jingle in the style of the national anthem, and a voicemail recording, an alluringly juvenile tune decrying the pull corporations hold over facets of U.S. government is concocted. If you’re going to make yet another snide condemnation concerning the intermingling of business and politics, you damn well better make it enjoyable listening.


The Evolution Control Committee step around the potential pitfalls that generally plague their Illegal Art brethren by favoring a more populist approach equally embraced by artists such as the Bran Flakes, Escape Mechanism, and People Like Us. In other words, this is a plunderphonic release that doesn’t require an inherent love for all things electroacoustic and musique concrete. However, by purposely steering away from excessive academic pretense, the Evolution Control Committee also might have steered too far into an adolescent approach that can be too overwhelming for some listeners.


The rest of the album generally follows a format of goofy, head-nodding pairings chiefly for the sake of fun, with underlying messages intermittently rearing their head. The album highlight and cover art focus, “Rocked by Rape”, is the unholy union of AC/DC riffs from “Back in Black” and months worth of alarming Dan Rather dialogue. Great effort was taken in making outlandish phrases like “Notorious negative police brutality/Fear, the hidden Nazi next door” sound unedited. The song serves as a more effective and succinct thesis on how American mainstream media perpetuates a society of fear through hyperbolic shock tactics than Michael Moore could ever hope to achieve.


Other targets and fodder range from pop luminaries Janet Jackson and Gloria Estefan to horror icon Vincent Price and ECC fans’ voicemail submissions. In the hands of lesser cut-and-paste tacticians, the time-tested approach of combining ubiquitous pop with obscure thrift shop records and found sound recordings is hopelessly hokey. When performed correctly, it’s a genuine work of art in its own right. Out of the 29 tracks, only a few falter under repeated listening (in particular “Fearsome as Odd Danger”, a would-be track on a DJ Spooky remix EP).


By taking this jam-packed mixtape approach to the album, most tracks are given enough time to properly develop without overstaying their welcome. Let’s hope that the Evolution Control Committee doesn’t decide to let another seven years pass between official releases.