"Delerium" isn't technically a word. I think "delirium" was what the artist intended, actually: a temporary state of mental confusion resulting from high fever, intoxication, or shock, marked by anxiety, disorientation, hallucinations, delusions, trembling, and incoherence. I guess this is my problem: Delerium's music doesn't fit this description. At all.

The one remotely apt word in the definition is "intoxication," but in Poem's case, it's not the type that leads to confusion. Rather, it's a becalming intoxication, like popping a couple downers. Take, for instance, the album's opener, "Terra Firma." The track glides into sonic range with mandolin pluckings and a rhythmic tide, which soon bow out to a relaxed techno beat, Gregorian-esque chants, sweeping strings and electronic windpipes.

If this description sounds familiar, it's because Delerium's near cousins are Dead Can Dance and Enigma. While the similarity is unavoidable-- I would've felt guilty had I not mentioned it-- Delerium are decidedly less pretentious and even less grandiose, with a sound that's considerably more lush than its thinner counterparts. Delerium's wider range of instrumentation, as well as their grounded beats, keep their sound from sailing into the stratosphere.

But perhaps Rhys Fulber and Bill Leeb's most significant advantage over reheated new age goth is that they realize how quick this world beat-meets-exalted-vocals formula can wear thin. One solution: guest vocalists. Backed by a crisp beat recalling recent Massive Attack, Sixpence None the Richer's Leigh Nash adds an unexpected earthliness to "Innocente." Solar Twins' Joanna Stevens guest appearances on two tracks, however, fall flat-- although not by her own fault. Unnecessary atmospheric manipulation of her voice and juxtapositions with chanting render the songs passive and forgettable. The most notable contributor here is Matthew Sweet, whose vocals on "Daylight" are disappointing; without an energetic pop song to back him up, Sweet's voice loses any of its emotive power.

But in the end, the guest vocalists are secondary. The beat's the thing. When Delerium forego the listless Gregorics and stale beats employed by their more renowned contemporaries, they truly shine. The beat-heavy "Aria," for instance, and the salsa-esque "Fallen Icons" are arguably Poem's strongest tracks. But these moments occur only now and then, and are often sandwiched between songs that, while helping you survive the subway's rush-hour crunch, won't meet your needs at any other time-- unless you're about to have a mid-life crisis. So then, we have our definition of "delerium": a temporary state of mental calmness resulting from soothing, tidal rhythms, marked by calmness, enhanced orientation, 20/20 vision, and coherence.

-Ryan Kearney