The Sea and Cake

There was a time in the '90s when the Sea and Cake was the most exciting thing in underground rock. Made up of singer/ guitarist Sam Prekop, bassist Eric Claridge, guitarist Archer Prewitt, and drummer John McEntire, the Chicago band came across as a bunch of effortlessly talented musical polyglots. On a series of records spanning the decade, the players proved themselves adept at everything from Krautrock-y proto-electronica to jam-band funk to tweaked bossa nova. Prekop wielded his tickling breeze of a voice like some sleek German roadster, speeding along his bandmates' hairpin rhythms, a stream of sophisticated-sounding nonsense rhymes trailing behind him.

At the dawn of 2000, though, the quartet took an unfortunate downtempo detour with Oui, turning the "boring" knob on its synthesizers up to 11, and plodding through a record that had all the charisma of a well-made bed.

Thankfully, the group's enthusiasm for slinky-smoove monotony has abated (a little) on One Bedroom. From the pulsing groove of the opening "Four Corners" to the wah-wah guitar and thumpy house-music beat of "Hotel Tell," the Sea and Cake has begun shifting back into high gear again, and the quickened pace is a welcome return to form. The group even kicks down a block-rocking version of David Bowie's "Sound & Vision" that threatens to outshine the original.

Unfortunately, not all of One Bedroom is up to speed. Tracks like "Le Baron" and "Interiors" feel like reprises of the dull fare that made Oui such a drag. Part of the problem is Prekop's manicured and breathy voice -- it's pretty but also pretty one-dimensional, and its anesthetized flavor does nothing to help already-listless songs like the aptly titled "Try Nothing." Even with a handful of stellar, sweaty exceptions, the Sea and Cake's new CD makes for a fairly unseductive Bedroom.