Jimi Tenor returns to his original label with an album liable to baffle even hardcore fans. A somewhat experimental collection of 30 second jingles for a Martian radio station (apparently), Heliopause jumbles up Forbidden Planet bleep abstraction, Residents-style pop mutilation and bouncy truncated techno action, all filtered throught the cheekily cheesy Tenor-vision.

i-D, April 2000

Jimi Tenor fully indulges his taste for the absurd with this solo album. With track titles like 'Money Radio', 'Sports Universe', and 'Daytime Sex Show', and the majority of tracks clocking in at under a minute, he has recorded, it says here, 'a strange collection of radio jingles for an imaginary intergalactic space station'. It does, therefore, exactly what it says on the tin and aptly illustrates the breadth of Jimi Tenor's imagination, and the sounds of a man not afraid to follow his whims.

Wax, April 2000

This might be a Jimi Tenor project, but if youre expecting techno-fied loungecore from Finland's finest, forget it. The back cover provides a clue - it features a séance. Yes indeed, the lounge has been trashed. 'Heliopause' eases its way in with a demonic, menacing brand of technoid electronica that literally growls; the perfect soundtrack to a cyber Hitchcock suspence thriller. All too often electronic mavericks, in their quest to confound us, predictably dip their toes into free jazz, or go for the bleepy confusion option. This does neither. Many tracks are short vignettes, like 'Traffic Report' - 58 seconds of wayward pounding techno that builds to a crescendo, makes its point, and leaves. Elsewhere, Jimi screws with the Planet Of The Apes master tapes, and makes Hawaiian anthems for the year 3000. Play it in the chill out room and watch the pot heads instantly mangle.

Gal Détourn in 7, 25 March 2000