There’s a lot of reason to reinvent yourself as an artist; it can provide a new bout of interest in your work, it can allow you to open up a new side of yourself, it can help to signpost for fans that you’re doing something different, among other potential benefits. Luke Temple seems to know this, having switched from his given name to Here We Go Magic, back to Luke Temple again, and now comes to us repackaged as Art Feynman. It’s not just a new moniker; the press shots feature Temple in an outfit that would be suitable on a windy day in a desert, including khakis, a wide-brimmed sun hat and a dust mask that completely obscures his face, giving him a certain anonymity; this is Art Feynman, not Luke Temple or Here We Go Magic or anything else.

This is worth mentioning, because this slight character that has delivered the album actually helps in selling the musical contents. Blast Off Through The Wicker is an album that tells tales of travelling through third world towns, collecting ideas and recording them on the fly on a 4-track recorder. Whether these things actually happened, and went into the creation of the album, is questionable, but from the front cover, the name Art Feynman, the lowkey 4-track sound and the overall style-snatching displayed throughout, Blast Off Through The Wicker is much more of a success if you’re just happy to be taken away by the whimsical possibility of this cultured artiste displaying his worldliness.

On the opening track 'Eternity In Pictures' simply plinking pianos form the basis, upon which Feynman wistfully invites you to “walk to the monument/ and watch it cry in the rain.” The simplistic musical surroundings - bobbing pianos, spectre-like synth - and the careless sing song of Feynman’s delivery make you want to step out alongside the debonair singer, just for the promise of a beautiful scene and some minor adventure. As the record moves deeper into its erratic, groovy central sound, we feel more of the different flavours seeping in. The poppy funk of ‘Slow Down’ comes replete with a chunky-yet-slinky Indian-tinged synth line, while ‘Can’t Stand It’ is pinned down by an irrepressible North African rhythm and features some delightful guitar moans, reminiscent of the master of this kind of music William Onyeabor.

There are a couple of songs that stretch beyond 7 minutes, but thanks to their consistent percussive ticking they eventually suck you in, even if at first they might seem lightweight. ‘Feeling Good About Feeling Good’ continues the Afro/Kraut mashup of ‘Can’t Stand It’; even this simplistically sweet message works its way into you as the bass and guitars wind into a tighter and tighter knot. The other long track, ‘Hot Night Jeremiah’, is a fever dream, like sitting next to Feynman in the dark jungle during a long, deep and very hallucinogenic ayahuasca trip; as the buzzing synths and crackling background production builds you can feel the beads of sweat mounting on the singer’s brow, and he yelps and puffs his way through the song.

Blast Off Through The Wicker is hard to pin down, as it constantly shifts tone and style, but it stays glued together through the simplistic recording sound and Feynman’s commitment to finding some kind of wiggling groove in almost every song. And when he does calm it down, as on ‘Win Win’ or ‘Party Line’, the production suggests an intimate camped-out surrounding. The album is a success due to this; its feeling portable. It sounds like something that could be taken out on the road and simply soundtrack a multitude of different sights – as that is the way that it sounds like it was made. Blast Off Through The Wicker is the equivalent of an efficient weekend overseas excursion; short, beautiful, and enjoyable, but it won’t leave you tired or wishing you had had longer.