Pitchfork

This being an Emperor Norton release, the first question is: what kitschy genre will be paid homage? Lounge? E-Z Listening? Krautrock? Salsa? Krautrock played as salsa? True to form, Ladytron indeed are working the retro angle. They're two guys and two girls in love with the early 80s, a time when several flavors of pop music discovered electricity all over again and began to channel the machine pulse of Kraftwerk. And who can blame Ladytron for this love affair? We came of age in the 80s, after all, so we can expect the sounds from this era to cycle through our lives continuously until we all bite the dust. The 1980s were our 1950s, a statement that makes a lot more sense if you grew up watching "Happy Days" with your pre-Baby Boomer parents. So we may as well get used to it.

Fortunately, there's more to Ladytron than a moonwalk down memory lane. They slavishly ape ancient production techniques on Commodore Rock, but also apply them in the service of catchy pop songs. So while "Play Girl" cops the instrumental signifiers of early New Order (cheap drum machine, sweeping faux-string synth washes, prominent, bouncing bass), it also measures up in melody, and that's saying something. Helen Marnie's voice is perfect for the song; inviting and warm, yet just bored enough for new wave.

The slightly more original title track features the appropriately Rhinelandish speaking voice of Bulgarian Mira Aroyo. Somewhere behind a fuzzy 303 bassline and choppy electrified drums, Aroyo wields her commanding tongue in a way that will remind Krautrock aficionados of Kluster's 1970 debut, Klopfzeichen. But the oddest moment of this compelling track comes at the three-minute mark, when beautiful, ghostly sheets of feedback drift in and overtake the song completely, transforming it into epic drone music with cheap beats. I don't remember hearing that fusion on the early days of MTV. Bravo.

The second side of this four-song EP isn't quite as strong. "Miss Black" is a synth instrumental (the only voices are a phalanx of giggly girls that sound like the models from Duran Duran's "Hungry like the Wolf") that steals the organ hook already lifted by DJ Shadow for "Organ Donor". Meanwhile, "Paco" unconvincingly reaches for the darker, colder sonic realm of Gary Numan, and the lyrics (again recited by Aroyo), which detail the layout of a department store, make it a bit difficult to take seriously. Still, though uneven, Commodore Rock remains a worthwhile listen and should be counted as a promising debut.