In this conceptual project, The Beige Channel's Michael Farley conducts a stylistic exercise, chopping up and digitally re-assembling the "non-essential elements" of 1950s mood music. Plain Vanilla's compositions are more theoretical experiments than songs, which is consistent with Farley's assertion that his creations are designed as collages and not merely updated versions of older material. While this deliberate juxtaposition of seemingly disparate elements works to disguise the original material, you'll still be able to hear the elements that made the songs likable in the first place.

Plain Vanilla's main problem is that once the initial curiosity wears off, there's little here to draw you back for repeat listens. It's the kind of experience that may go over well in an art exhibit, but it isn't really the sort of thing most people would choose to listen to on a regular basis.

Overall, Plain Vanilla is a sometimes-pretentious exercise that doesn't yield many high points, but Farley deserves credit for making a conscious attempt to subvert music's structural norms -- and to be fair, he pretty much achieves his goal, creating an album that's equal parts vinyl-crackling nostalgia and digitized modernity. Let's just hope that his next project is a little more focused and coherent.