This album's first track's song title asks, "Are We a Rock Band or What ....?" (RealAudio excerpt). And the joke here is, if you know anything about Apollo Four Forty, these three relatively anonymous British knob twiddlers tend to be segregated along with the other club kids in the cafeteria of life. In the past, those scary rock 'n' roll ruffians and the electronic dance music (OK, let's just call it disco) folks didn't cross paths much — and if one wandered onto the wrong turf after hearing that final bell, they'd probably have received a good whooping. But all this has changed; it seems old school's out forever.

In the next track, "Stop the Rock," they answer their own rhetorical question with all the irony they can muster. Beginning with a sampled guitar loop reminiscent of the old Peter Gunn and Batman themes, a goofy robotic voice starts chanting, "Stop the rock/ Stop the rock/ Stop the rock/ Can't stop the rock." And then — BOOOOM! — the hyperactive drums kick in, a repeated siren increases the frenzied dissonance and, in a move both unlikely and perfect, a '60s-centric Farfisa organ suddenly appears. Near the song's end, actual human voices harmonize to a bit of classic-rock nonsense: "bom bom buh bom bom buh bom bom." It's a compelling and strange musical gumbo that sounds like Kraftwerk taking the Beach Boys cruising on their electronic autobahn, while a 14-year-old guitarist who only knows one riff tags along.

"Stop the Rock" (RealAudio excerpt) is a great rock 'n' roll single. It's the best song on the album, completely unoriginal in the same great way as, say, "Louie, Louie." And, like "Louie, Louie" — and "The Twist" and "Should I Stay or Should I Go" — it makes you want to get up and dance. This is American Bandstand, "Jetsons"-style.

The first four songs are pretty much cut from the same dirty cloth, featuring big beats, loud guitars and miscellaneous sounds. After that, however, things start breaking down. "For Forty Days" takes things down a few notches, featuring quiet skittering drums, shimmering pianos and airy flutes. Songs such as "The Machine in the Ghost" (RealAudio excerpt) sport aimless dub excursions that bore more than explore.

If these folks are really getting high on their own supply, then they need to take more amphetamines and lay off the pot. In doing so, they might avoid the lazy, hazy drifting that weighs down too much of the second half of their album — and, instead, focus on cultivating the amped-up madness that fuels "Stop the Rock." Because, when all is said and done, you really can't stop it.