It is another of those highly anticipated albums. That is, depending on how much one has invested in the "DJ Shadow is a god, and Endtroducing his gospel" story, this could be the most anticipated album of 2002. As such it fails (so much for suspense). There is a rather depressing logic behind the failure of The Private Press, one which the album verifies: namely that DJ Shadow's career has been steadily going downhill... A fast climb through In/Flux and Lost & Found towards his masterpiece What Does Your Soul Look Like, a valiant if somewhat erratic attempt at consolidation with Endtroducing, followed by a long period where Shadow seemed to have lost focus, or rather a firm hold, on this thing, his touch, which made him so special. For me the key to the failure and the sense of disappointment has its source in the single Monosylabik that caused some heated discussions a couple of months ago when it was released as a taster for the album. Monosylabik seemed an incredibly fresh path for DJ Shadow to explore. With its vague echoes of Windowlicker it sounded like nothing he had done before: a minimal, constantly changing electro track that sounds like jumping on clouds. Maybe a bit too long... nothing certain Warp artists had done before... but somehow it felt like a promise. Of course the problem was that I fantasized about what a whole album of elegant robot-funk in this vein would sound like. In my head I pictured a new future.

Those who didn't like Monosylabik (and this seemed to be a majority) should be relieved: In the flow of The Private Press it stands out like a rock. It is the only track here where DJ Shadow actually tries to do something new. The majority of the tracks are formulaic. Take Fixed Income, where over a hip-hop beat, guitar and string samples are woven to create an expansive sound we lazily call cinematic. Giving Up The Ghost also covers familiar Shadow territory, sounding correct but going absolutely nowhere; a half-formed idea. Of these orthodox DJ Shadow tracks, the two-part Mongrel.Meets His Maker is one of the few highlights of the album: straight, to-the-point, banging beat with a guitar and choir sample to which, in part two, is added a beautiful piano melody. Taken together with the enjoyable scratch tracks Un Autre Introduction and Walkie Talkie, one has material for a very decent mini-album.

Instead of building on the Monosylabik template, DJ Shadow disappointingly follows his U.N.K.L.E. and Quannum work by inserting vocals into his music. The over-emoting Leo Sayer soundalike effectively ruins The 6 Day War, whilst Mashin On The Motorway is just a silly tale of road rage over unimaginative musical backing. Most tragically, the histrionic vocals that turn up midpoint in Blood On The Motorway almost ruin the most ambitious track of the album, another look back at the classic Shadow way, this time the Shadow of the epic gesture. The first part pulls off a majestic build-up, subtly adding layer after layer of sound (albeit a recognizable collection of sounds: piano, a solemn voice talking, a nice electro riff, and glockenspiel). Then "Leo Sayer" starts warbling about "betraying your ideals," and the effect of the preceding minutes is spoiled. In the final part Shadow at least does an admirable job in trying to work things towards a worthy climax with strings and another inspired piano sample. It's the story of the album in a nutshell: too many familiar sounds, some old magic, and the nagging feeling of a lack of focus — something that we haven't come to expect from a perfectionist (in both production and conceptualization) such as DJ Shadow. Yet another figurehead of '90s electronica fails to deliver the goods after a long hiatus. Or have we finally learned to listen with 21st Century ears?