Fujiya & Miyagi - 'Lightbulbs' (Full Time Hobby) Released 08/09/08

“We’re prickly like porcupines,” guitarist David Best announces at one point during Fujiya & Miyagi’s second full-length. If only.

The effortlessly innovative update of the motorik proto-electro aesthetic of Neu!, the chin-stroking art-rock angularity of Talking Heads and the unstoppable momentum of countless vintage funkateers on the trio’s 2006 debut ‘Transparent Things’ pulsated with a strange but effective blend of sinister intent, streetwise toughness and charming cosiness. It was easy to imagine the platter being equally in its element lounging on the couch at home, sipping pricey cocktails under the blinding lights of the dancefloor and conducting dodgy deals in the gritty alley behind the club, resulting in a refreshingly unclassifiable mix that nodded its head in various directions but never resorted to slavishly aping a particular genre, style or sound.

The follow-up, although drawing largely from the same toolbox, dulls their trademark compulsive grooves into something smoothly inoffensive enough to provide the soundtrack for hip, expensively sneakered barbeques, with the unfortunate outcome that whereas Fujiya & Miyagi used to sound a bit like a lot of bands, but not really like anyone else, they often no longer sound that much like themselves either. At its lowest points, ‘Lightbulbs’ sounds like LCD Soundsystem with the white noise and the unsteady air of exciting unpredictability censored, or Chromeo for those who can’t stomach the relentless zaniness; in other words, coffee table-friendly electro-rock.

A big part of the problem’s the Brighton band’s decision to drag Best’s half-whispered vocals, an asset in small portions but not exactly their strongest selling point, to the spotlight. ‘Pussyfooting’s clearly capable of providing hypnosis-inducing funky good times, but the endless repetition on the vocals front turns it into a profoundly irritating endurance test. Likewise, the languid title track and the stargazing ‘Goosebumps’, fired up by Steve Lewis’ extensive array of vintage keyboards, unveil a brand new genre that could be dubbed domesticated ambient, but the hopelessly banal lyrics get in the way of what could’ve been an dynamic display of Harmonia for the modern home.

For all its faults, though, ‘Lightbulbs’ is far from a hopeless case. Most of the grooves cooked up by bassist Matt Hainsby and new member Lee Adams on the drums are sweet as ever, with the opening duo ‘Knickerbocker’ and the minimalist ‘Uh’ hitting particularly hard. There’s a perfectly fine album lurking beneath the surface, begging to be relieved of the few missteps that keep disfiguring the proceedings. Put out an instrumental version and I’m the first in line. For now, best stick with the old stuff.