Like Garfunkel was to Simon, Kieran to Macaulay Culkin, or Barbara ("Hillary") Hershey to Bette ("CC") Midler in Beaches, the revival of lounge music lived in new-swing's shadow. While its big-brother genre simultaneously blazed the pop charts and induced vomiting in the late '90s, lounge reigned as its decidedly hipper counterpart. Lounge was merely approached, rather than exploited Setzer-style, by the likes of Dimitri from Paris and Air, only to end up in K-Mart and Pantene commercials.

In short, lounge music has enjoyed an existence comparable to that of a likable, staminate starlet. It's not dead, per se-- at least, not as outrageously washed-up as swing. Even so, the ooh-la-la's that were sighed upon exotica's return now sound more like resounding eh's. Its retro-fresh appeal died with Furbys and Pam Grier's comeback.

Tipsy's Dave Gardner and Tim Digullia seem aware of this fact on their sophomore release, Uh-Oh. Tipsy's musical framework retreads the tumbler-shaking shuffle of nu-lounge in a post-nu-lounge world. But far be it from a band named Tipsy to take a straightforward approach to revivalism; they also firmly integrate noisier elements here. And if this combination seems inappropriate or skewed, it's because it is. Slipping dissonant, screeching bleeps into a placid, space-age bachelor pad schema seems oddly passive-aggressive, though not enough of either to pass as legitimately interesting.

But it's the studio trickery that bogs down Uh-Oh the most. Songs like "Wig Out" and "Swallowtail" owe as much to Funkstörung as they do Dean Martin or Les Baxter. This isn't due to freeform beat-swapping, but the constant song-morphing that comes with G4-processed sound effects. Popping bubbles, eerie theremins, breakbeats, backwards tape loops, and lazy organs are all mixed together over a beat fit for hip-swiveling. Hidden layers reveal themselves with repeat listens, but since all of this comes under the guise of rehashed neo-lounge, it's just not compelling enough to reach "moderate rotation" status in the disc changer.

Of course, there's a tongue-in-cheek element to Tipsy's work that lends the material some dizzy fun. "Reverse Cowgirl" juxtaposes a sped-up spaghetti western guitar riff over driving jazzy beats. The deliciously titled "Moisture Seekers" finds its beat in a looped sample of a person coughing. "Bunny Kick" plays like the theme music for a jetlagged Mary Tyler Moore exploring Paris, while a band of women "ah" over funky bongos and hand-held bells that practically implore that a martini be shaken along with them.

"Sweet Cinnamon Punch" is the only song on Uh-Oh that's a truly exceptional, complete realization of Tipsy's concocting. It opens with descending strings reminiscent of Aphex Twin's "Girl/Boy Song," which are echoed by a keyboard. Beats shuffle in and continue their stroll until the swelling climax. Then, a dulcet sax solo enters, adding bursts of organic tenderness to an already heartfelt track.

Still, one captivating song out of eighteen provides a bittersweet longing for what Tipsy might sound like if they were exercised more restraint around studio gadgetry. Because as glossy and perfected as Uh-Oh sounds, it still stumbles over itself with overbearing kookiness-- the formula is more seasick than half-drunk and giddy.

-Richard M. Juzwiak