The more punishing and volatile of his digi-compositions (such as 2005's I'm You) would seem right at home on fellow Miami native Carlos Giffoni's imprint – one of the subterranean leaders in grimy electronics. He's even been a regular collaborator with Giffoni via the cut-up noise project Old Bombs. With that in mind, I expected a similarly chaotic offering from Felipe here … but found quite the opposite to be true. No Fun Demo actually reveals Felipe's forays into lo-fi psych-pop, collecting a smattering of tracks he's been recording at home since 2001. The deranged quality, feedback fits and overall disorientation of the individual songs lends the record its oblique match for the No Fun roster, though still comes off a bit baffling in the context of Felipe's previous work.

That's not to say that No Fun Demo is without charm; fans of the Ariel Pink school of muddled pop collage will no doubt delight over Felipe's tunes, which maintain a detached appeal for the stoned loners. But while Pink is notorious for diggin' on the dial a tad too erratically, Felipe remains more focused throughout the record, shifting seamlessly between no-wave throwbacks and hazy guitar ditties. It would be appropriate to speak of Felipe's songwriting skills, but such an assessment is near impossible, as most of the album's lyrics are obscured beneath varying levels of pitch-shifted delay and murky production aesthetics. From what I can make out, most tracks touch on love-lost pessimism delivered in a glitter-gone-shoegaze hybrid, complete with an often sexually-ambiguous vocal approach. Felipe even covers a track from the destructo-glam anthems of Mike Watton's Haunted House moniker through his version of "Chandeliers," with staccato piano chops driving the teenage screech.

Felipe certainly excels with No Fun Demo in terms of crafting lysergically-damaged bedroom rock. But it's here that the main problem arises: Endearing though they are, the songs seem to take a step back in Felipe's oeuvre, shackling him more to musical modes of the '80s and '90s instead of pushing the envelope with his knack for computer-crafted delusions. Sure, it's a noble trend in the underground to resist digital recording techniques in favor of analog technologies, but in Felipe's case, the shift toward a somewhat more traditional song structure on No Fun Demo betrays the electronic innovation that he's displayed on recent releases. Last year's Kinks EP (available for free download via Clinical Archives) and even his latest effort, Personality Crisis, exhibit the pop prowess that Felipe reaches for here, but effectively mangles the formula through hacker code and circuit-board crackle.

Keeping the "demo" part of the record's title in mind, Felipe's songs are quite beautiful, growing warmer and more personable with each listen. But on the other hand, No Fun Demo emerges as a bit of a disappointment because it throws Felipe's cyber-DIY direction in reverse, forsaking in-your-face digital displays for a more subdued take. The blurb on the label's website hails the record as "pop music of the present," but No Fun Demo waxes too nostalgic for that to be entirely true. In the end, I'm left wishing that Felipe had attempted to channel the future instead.


By Cole Goins
(thanks for the links cole!) CH-CHING!

PITCHFORK REVIEW:
rating:7.2 (thanks marc masters,i've scored better on the streets!)
"Miami-based sound wizard Dino Felipe has made a lot of records-- more than 30 in the past decade, if you count his various groups and compilation appearances-- but very few of them sound alike. His primary M.O. is electronic noise, but he's also good at droning ambience, fractured punk, sample-heavy frivolity, and weirdo bedroom pop. He's made a subterranean career out of dodging definition, so it figures that his first record for No Fun, the noise label run by his friend and colleague Carlos Giffoni, would be his poppiest to date. It may not also be his best, but it's up there.
Of course, pop is a relative term when it comes to Felipe. There are melodic, structured songs here, but his approach is still hazy, off-kilter, and weird. Most of his tunes sport skewed hooks and off-key riffs which get dipped in fuzz and echo, half-hidden by distortion, pitch shifting, and ghostly distance. This puts No Fun Demo in the same ballpark as the AM-radio lo-fi of Ariel Pink, but Felipe's songs are more sturdy, and the album is more consistent than any Pink record save the underrated House Arrest. In that sense, its title is deceptive: These tracks may initially sound like four-track demos made alone in a basement, but they hold up as well-crafted songs, the kind that couldn't have been whipped up in a single lonesome evening.
Take "Found 2 Photos"-- its mid-tempo drum machine, loping bass line, and two-chord organ seem to follow one simple idea. But a closer listen reveals clever guitar flourishes, random percussion, and a vocal line that sounds like Silver Jews filled with helium. The same goes for "Working on Not", a looping electronic piece that's like a pop take on Can or Excepter, and "Rabbit Head", whose sneaky melody at first seems lethargic, but eventually becomes energetic and almost tight.A few of Felipe's songs are just flat-out, unfiltered pop. "I Wanna Feel Better" bends and twists around a syrupy hook, while the bouncing "Chandeliers" (a Haunted House cover) features scorched chanting over a driving piano line. Felipe only falters when he gets too retro-clever-- check the blatant 80s-synth exercise "What's Wrong With Me?"-- or repeats himself (a few of the slower pieces feel identical). But at least No Fun Demo is stylistically consistent. Felipe rarely deviates from his own oddball logic, and if his worst sin is not enough variety to give his music a wider appeal, well, maybe that's just another feather in his bulging cap."

- Marc Masters, July 24, 2008