FC/Kahuna

If machines are raising their voices, as the title of FC/Kahuna's Machine Says Yes suggests, then musicians seem to be responding in turn. Lately, hardware-friendly producers have been threading electro-funk into both rock and dance music, drawing less on the smooth realism of computer music than on the awkward robotics of outdated technology. Following suit, this London duo's debut full-length throbs with the irregular pulse of clotted copper arteries, albeit tempered with a very real, almost fragile humanism.

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The majority of Machine Says Yes dresses itself up in vintage keyboards, chugging drum patterns, and a brazen sexuality that's a little bit disco, a little bit rock 'n' roll. But not all the cuts are so unabashedly glam: Two tracks exemplify the typically European blend of electronics and moody pop. "Fear of Guitars" recalls Radiohead's pensive pose, shrouding brooding vocals in dusky keys, brushed cymbals, and acoustic guitar; and "Hayling," which opens the record with swirling harmonies and breathy crooning, evokes the most psychedelic moments of the French band Air.

But most of the album revolves around brittle beatbox patter and new wave flashbacks in the form of primitive house rhythms and garish, streaking synths. What distinguishes these songs is their over-the-top quality. "Growler," as gritty as its name implies, welds distorted rave ornaments to overdriven beats that glow hotter as the song grinds on, like a light bulb filament on the verge of burning out. Likewise, the herky-jerky anthem "Bleep Freak" twists and pivots as frenetically as a cyborg in meltdown.

As good as such songs are, the album's very best track trumps them all. "Nothing Is Wrong," a staple of San Francisco's electroclash dance floors, takes a nasty, snarling bass line and gives it a shot of adrenaline via a libidinous refrain, sung by Gus Gus' Hafdis Huld. "I didn't come to party/ I didn't come at all," she taunts, before giving way to processed purring and chanting. If the lyrics speak to the agonizing thrill of deferred release, the song's sonic indulgences amount to the best kind of aural sex. Sequenced early in the album, "Nothing Is Wrong" makes the rest of Machine Says Yessound alternately like a rush of foreplay and a lazy post-coital blur. But that burst makes all the buildup and post-climactic coasting worthwhile; and in any case, the repeat function gives you the option of coming early and often.