ack in 1995, the Chemical Brothers seemed pretty revolutionary. Especially to the American audience, which helped the Brothers become the closest thing electronica ever had to a superstar act (at least until Fatboy Slim) in the States.


Their flashy production and willingness to adopt rock structures and attitudes, grafting them to dancefloor ethics and vibes, created a captivating debut (Exit Planet Dust), and more importantly, a modern classic follow-up, the genre-fusing Dig Your Own Hole.


But somewhere between "Block Rockin' Beats" and now, the world of electronica changed. For the major music press, increased awareness and acceptance of electronic forms of music raised the bar somewhat. Sporting a big beat sound with catchy hooks isn't enough nowadays.


Most serious attention to electronica has been directed at artists delving into more abstract, arty mutations. The work of artists such as Autechre and Boards Of Canada makes light of the work performed by practitioners such as the Brothers, and their chief disciples, namely Fatboy Slim, Moby and Appollo 440. Where trance superstars like Paul Oakenfold and Sasha and Digweed once were the critics' darlings, they're now regarded as disposable, one-dimensional dance fodder.


Hell, if a traditional rock band such as Radiohead is busy crafting IDM and ambient pieces, armed with Pro Tools and a drum kit, then a simple song designed to shake your groove thing just isn't enough.


The Chemical Brother's new platter, Come With Us, isn't going to help the situation any. It's still all that same old sweaty funk mixed with mechanical sheen the Brothers have been doing for the past eight years.


Which isn't to say that Come With Us is a horrible listen. It's certainly entertaining enough, and the Brothers are still able to paint often spectacular vistas of sound, but on Come With Us, the brush strokes are too calculated, resulting in a paint-by-numbers feeling.


That old familiar feeling coats all of the album, and ensures that after a few listens, this stuff gets mighty old. Also, there isn't any stand-out track on the level of Surrender's "Out Of Control," or Dig Your Own Hole's "Block Rockin' Beats."


But enough with the griping. Let's point out what Come With Us does well. There are some steps made in new directions to be found scattered throughout the disc. Take the rushing future-disco of "Come With Us," with its oscillating and ostentatious synth swirls, and the unabashed Atari-soul of "Star Guitar."


The Oompa-Loompa funk of "My Elastic Eye" is a nice contribution; one of the album's strongest tracks. Pregnant programming oozes like molasses as a computerized voice babbles incoherently over playful calliope beats. An OutKast rhyme wouldn't sound out of place here. Paging Dre and Big Boi, please.


Speaking of guest vocalists, they do make the requisite appearances here (after all, there's only so much you can do with vocal samples). Beth Orton contributes to the electric-folk of "The State We're In." The song glides along a laissez-faire beat and forgettable melody. Orton valiantly tries to save the song with her vocals, smooth as warm honey, but can't do it all herself.


A friend of mine recently commented that listening to Beth Orton read the phone book would be enough for him; listening to "The State We're In" repeatedly is as close to that as I want to get.


"The State We're In" does characterize the album's biggest change of pace from early Brothers recordings, however. The light, airy feel of the song reminds one of Air's trailblazing Moon Safari album, with the cool lounge atmosphere and soothing tempos.


The Brothers usually have a more earthy, bass-oriented percussive approach. While Come With Us does dig the big-beat mine, several moments show a more melodic, even esoteric identity than the duo mostly present us with.


"Hoops" starts out on the right foot, showing this new approach, with gentle folk-guitar passages and lush programming, but quickly drops into a predictable rave-up. It's competent, but the Brothers are capable of so much more.


Drawing to the album's end, "Denmark" brings the lowest ebb yet, a sterilized recapitulation of the Brothers' early sound, with overachieving crescendos and cheesy trance moves, complete with a skanky funk guitar sample. By the time you hear the raver's whistle, you have to ask yourself if the Brothers are for real.


Come With Us does leave on a high note, however. Guest vocalist Richard Ashcroft (formerly of the Verve), pops up in the closer, "The Test". A psychedelic pop tune, "The Test" shakes off a troublesome start to find an intoxicating groove and mind-bending melodies.


The Brothers have let us down this time, no doubt about it. While there are a few redeeming moments on Come With Us, you can find similar (and superior) moments on earlier albums. If the Brothers truly are "gonna work it out," they better do it soon, before they've become completely passé.