Pitchfork

Bedroom laptop thug-pop. Electro-ironic soul music. Tongue-in-ass hip-hop. DF-Ay-Ay-Ay! There are all sorts of wonky titles we could create to describe Hot Chip, Joe Goddard and Alexis Taylor's perplexing electronic British outfit. Hell, Goddard even looks like a mellow James Murphy. Their full-length debut, Coming on Strong, was released in Europe more than a year ago and warmly if not exasperatingly received. This slightly reconfigured U.S. issue comes off at first like slight pop-- novelty even. But extended listens reveal a goofy sincerity and romantic insouciance.

Hot Chip wear influences like yellow Livestrong bracelets-- quietly, gallantly, but a bit too noticeably. The Beach Boys, Prince, Ween, 60s girl groups, Dr. Dre, Devo, Stevie Wonder, Madlib: Each hallmark has their moment, or idea borrowed. The sum of inspiration isn't always rectitude, but Hot Chip make it work for them. American heavyweight counterparts LCD Soundsystem, a more forceful, knowing act, are clearly an influence, and "Down With Prince" is Hot Chip's "Daft Punk Is Playing at My House". Admiration is draped all over the production-- clipped hollow snares, noodly bass line, funk keyboards-- and it's impressive that they don't get us rolling on the ground with an opener like "I'm sick of motherfuckers tryna tell me that they're down with Prince." The desperate Purple allegiance is pretty apparent though. Someone oughta FedEx this record to Paisley Park. These guys have the gall.

"Keep Fallin'" is the big scandal ("I'm like Stevie Wonder, but I can see things.") and the funniest thing here. Built on a simple groove, Taylor, whose fragile vocals guide much of the album, drops all kinds of bombs on us. He nods at obvious lyrical influence Ween and daintily moans "Give up all you suckers, we the tightest motherfuckers and you never seen this before, now." The decision to end many of the unrhyming couplets with "now" usually signals amateur. Hard to say how much Taylor and Goddard are lampooning things, though. The whole pop-satire gag is a tidy little safety net to throw at critics. Chemical Brothers meets Art Brut or something like that. The synthesis isn't perfect yet though, like on the groan-worthy "Shining Escalade". Some of the melodies, the mortar of these attacks, are occasionally less than cocked, as well: They're all simple, keyboard-based splashes and once in a while the bottom of the paper bag gets too wet.

Lyrics are sung so delicately-- fogged up in the cushiness of the production-- it's hard to make out the gangsta-lite gags. This complicates the consternation over whether these guys are "serious" or not. But in a world where 12-year-olds quote 50 Cent to their aunties at Thanksgiving dinner, it's not hard to understand why Goddard, the rap fan with the baritone, would consider dropping a chorus like the one on "Playboy": "Driving in my Peugeot, yeah yeah yeah/ 20-inch rims with the chrome now, yeah yeah yeah/ Blazin' out Yo La Tengo, yeah yeah yeah." Everyone likes everything these days, Cam'Ron to Ira Kaplan. That's why a group like this makes sense. It's what separates them from the likes of Goldie Lookin' Chain and Kidz Bop.

Hot Chip's songs are lazy, or at least leisurely, but they're unafraid to roll up on you in the most unsuspecting ways. "Keep Fallin'" ends with a kazoo solo. "Baby Said" closes madly, with 30 seconds of honking Casio and buckwild kick-drumming after four minutes of parlor room mellifluousness. It's only really a tease, flirting with the concept of upbeating their sound. Four on the floor quaking seems to be their next goal. Hot Chip's new album, scheduled for a 2006 release, already has the danceteria types excited just on the strength of lead single "Over and Over" b/w with, fittingly, the DFA Remix of "Just Like We (Breakdown)." So, enjoy serenity now. The backbeat reigns supreme soon.