Semi Peterson

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In one of the odder developments among bands, the 2003 incarnation of Sluta Leta that recorded and released this collection had literally nothing to do with the original group that started up in the mid-’90s — same name, same band as a general concept, but thanks to changing interests and rotating departures, all new people. Whether or not earlier hyper fans will consider this album to be the equivalent of the Velvet Underground’s Squeeze is up to them, but Semi Peterson is an amusing, bopping little piece of synth squelch, abbreviated funk beats and grooves, guitar melodies and riffs at points, and the occasional odd singalong. Not all at once, thankfully, and not constantly for every song — in fact the album’s best feature might be its deft balance between trying a number of different things as it goes while maintaining just enough of a general sound. It’s not quite an early-Brian Eno purée of everything-and-anything-goes pop, to be sure, but the murky echoes and glitches of “Flash,” the slamming and yet spacy “Whispers Special” (due credit to drummer Ddkern in particular), and the just giddy enough “Forests of the Moon,” with a sly purring vocal that sounds like a nod to the early ’80s without being electroclash, all make their individual marks. It’s an album most Radiohead fans might find a little weird and many microhouse or hip-hop listeners might think is a bit too indie rock, but somehow it finds its own strange, enjoyable place (the semidork jazz-pop bass and drums on “Vissna Bort” in particular are some kind of “screw cool” genius). Sometime ElectroniCAT singer Catriona Shaw brings not only her vocals but her accordion to “Super Swede,” adding a woozy, boulevardier feeling to the spare, minimal arrangement, feeling like a windswept ballad from an alternate ’80s.