Hurrah tells stories so neatly. For example, "Eskimo on Fire" lets polyrhythmic beats lead to upbeat strums until Versus tells us that the Eskimo was set on fire "to try to wake him up/ He wouldn't wake up." They methodically plod through light harmonies while the eskimo's seared flesh stains the unforgiving tableaux of arctic snow. The grotesque situation begs for a violent mark or awareness of some kind, yet it all unfolds quietly and perfectly. The Eskimo leaves no mess.

As a title like "Eskimo on Fire" promises an odd match, the song opens with a familiar guitar jangle that unmistakably looks up to the Velvet Underground's "Sister Ray," but leaves you asking, "What is this legendary sloppy rock anthem doing in Ikea?" So clean! The familiar rock theme strolls down an imaginary musical aisle of Ikea, passing drawers, layers, bells, whistles, overdubs, and cute (sold in bulk)! Then, it turns a corner, entering the "clean-dirty" aisle with sale prices on aluminum cased partitions of potting soil. Here, "Eskimo on Fire" begins to border on self-mockery as Sonic Youth-inspired guitar noise struts around like a showpony that's been stripped of its fuzz and kept in a pen. Before long, though, the song predictably returns to its persistently perky jangle.

These four minutes of neatly packaged lyrical imagery seem more a neat punctuation than a valentine to the inspired (albeit absurd) run-on institution of "Sister Ray." "Eskimo on Fire" asks, "What's the matter with your flaming Eskimo?/ Your Eskimo's on fire." The lyrics are somehow striking in their simplicity, and modern in their controlled delivery. But although Versus flirt with extracts of danger, they ultimately align themselves with the firefighters over the firestarters. (No, I am not referring to Prodigy.)

"Hurrah" for Versus! It's a good album! But in a very damning way. Yes, they write a solid rock song, play competently, and can nail a pop-hook into your head and hang their wit and timely lyrics on it. But the album is so well executed that it functions as an interchangeable high quality product-- customers will certainly be satisfied, but few will find it to be special enough to keep it around after it ceases to be fashionable.

Hurrah isn't going to embarrass its producers or consumers. In fact, this product is so safe it could neutralize any sweaty palms or flushed cheeks within a five mile radius. Think of any album you consider to be truly great. It probably has moments that are weird enough, wild enough, or even murky enough that, had they missed their mark, might have dissolved into the category of ridiculous or unpalatable, but instead, came off perfect. Imagine Mick Jagger's posturing without the dare-me confidence or Frank Black's schizophrenic vocals delivered without the unflinching urgency. But rather than negotiating the awkwardness of almost unpalatable elements into pop songs, Versus avoid risk-taking entirely and end up with a very, very good, but far from classic, record. Still, Hurrah is unquestionably better than almost all pop and rock CDs being released these days.

Hurrah arrives at a more subtle sound than Versus' previous efforts. Compared to 1997's Two Cents Plus Tax, the hooks are more subdued, the lyrics move towards the abstract, and their pronounced, persistent strum has given way to a more textured bounce through the pop vignettes. But at the same time, Hurrah lacks both obvious singles like "Morning Glory," and the urgency that Two Cents packed into its more direct lyrics. First listen says, "They do everything right!" But the 300th listen never comes around. I think it's okay to want more. After all, they sacrificed an eskimo for this.

-Kristin Sage Rockermann