When I hear a record like this, it's of import to me whether a live drummer is playing or if it's simply a drum machine. Usually, there are enough telltale signs that such a factor can be picked up by ear, and if not, consulting the liner notes provides the necessary information. But in the case of Morcheeba's Fragments of Freedom, I find it difficult to tell the difference, let alone care. Either way, it's clearly been sanitized by an omnipresent click-track to serve the simple, shuffling beats and lush, labored production.

Apparently, Morcheeba have grown tired of their trip-hop also-ran status and now search for a new pigeonhole to fit squarely into. This is just as well since they've never really nailed the subgenre's active ingredient of paranoia. Fragments of Freedom finds the nondescript trio of two pale producers and a chick singer bravely staking their claim on record shelves already packed with slick, passionless contemporary funk-- right between Macy Gray and Lenny Kravitz.

Aside from the old-school Morcheeba sound of the opener, "World Looking In", and a couple of low-key instrumentals that scream "didn't feel like writing lyrics that day", Fragments of Freedom is a consistent and predictable stylistic overhaul into hyphenated hipster-pop for people who actually liked Cibo Matto's last album. It fits the form to a T, right down to the brief, pointless Biz Markie cameo. The tracks here sport such similar singalong choruses and easy midtempo beats that I'd be extremely hard-pressed to guess which one's the single, much less select a personal highlight. And backup singers now crowd Skye Edwards' once subtle and distinctive vocals, obscuring the outfit's only exceptional charm.

There's nothing the least bit distasteful or offensive here, and maybe that's the problem. One can appreciate the skill and craft that Morcheeba exhibit, but when you lean in to get a glimpse at the slightest bit of personality or creativity, there's simply nothing to speak of. It'd be an excusable shortcoming had so many artists not already proven that intelligent dance music isn't necessarily an oxymoron.

If Morcheeba manage to land an actual club hit with this record-- which is plausible if given the proper promotion-- I say more power to 'em. I'd probably prefer their tunes on pop radio to the bulk of what's out there now. But as a personal listening product, the contents of this record are no less flat, smooth, or mass-produced than its jewel case.