Elvis Costello's words will ride him to the grave. Raising the ire of music critics, he's told them that their job is the equivalent of “dancing to architecture,” which to me sounds fun. But soundscapist Fennesz steps further out of these bounds by constructing his newest album around the decay of Venice . In his mind, the fabled sinking city is in full bloom of its graceful collapse. From the center of the eerie cracks and throbbing, low hiss of this ambient world comes moaning the only vocal "song" on the entire work. Where TV on the Radio's song noted a narrator's end with no notes at all, Fennesz poses his question of the end of a city in juxtaposing soft, whispering tones with a huge voice. In the tradition of the lamentation song, collaborator, David Sylvian sways on a barstool in an empty bar smoking the last cigarette, and mourns the death of Europe . Over the filtered static of Fennesz he asks us to “say goodbye to Europe ” and invokes visions of an old country that we all tried to visit, but was never there. He tells us that the lights are dimming there and that the cabaret is about to close, that our history will dim with it, that there is one more match to strike, that it is our last chance. For what? Not sure, but it haunts me with a reservation that is born of chances that are available but will be missed regardless. It is the type of lamentable failure that William S. Borroughs will mention on side B of this mix-tape. But then I think about that building in the Loop , the one with the blue light spilling from the top of it, out of what looks a beehive, and I just want to dance.