The Manchester duo of Marc Rae and Steve Christian face some stiff competition. Duos divide into those that are dynamic and those that are just dull. Gumby and Pokey are dynamic; Simon and Garfunkel, dull.

Rae and Christian's second album, like its predecessor, Northern Sulphuric Soul, is well aware of the peril of ending up in the "dull duo" category. Hence, Sleepwalking is a disguised duo record. Guest contributors wander in and out in the hope of masking the duo-ness that unfortunately is, barring break-up, what hallmarks Rae and Christian.

Fans will argue that the duo are just a production team like Civilles and Cole or Jam and Lewis who release albums as showcases of their sleights and skills. This view has truth to it. But is it not the case that under this disguise, Rae and Christian can release records without having to suffer the psychological traumas and the emotional trampolines of being in a band? With a rotating door for performers, the duo can replace one part with another without having to endure rock star tantrums and the hissyfits of underexposed and undernourished bassists. Unlike counterparts like Coldcut, Rae and Christian don't rely on their samplers to snatch a snippet of Bobby Womack-- for them, there's more credibility in securing Bobby Womack's time and having him live in the studio.

I can't find fault with having a fancy-pants Rolodex with loadsa famous bods' digits in it. But when you get a legendary soul voice to do some session work for you, you'd better have more substantial material than "Get a Life," in which Womack gets soulfully peeved at a heavy-breather of a three-in-the-morning crank caller. However soulfully arranged, Womack's mild complaint with MCI WorldComm for releasing his direct line is just not interesting. Rae and Christian attempt to give him something more meaty with "Wake Up Everybody," but soulful crooning of positive reinforcement mantras is yet again not interesting.

The Pharcyde, really hurting since the departure of Fatlip, guest on two tracks. While "It Ain't Nothing Like" is a rebuke to all faker MCs, "Let It Go" schools us in tolerance and forbearance and not getting wound up in "flim-flam" and "mental mayhem." While the Pharcyde's contributions to Sleepwalking far exceed the clownish performances of the Jungle Brothers on Northern Sulphuric Soul, they can't touch Jeru the Damaja's caustic contribution to the earlier album.

Being a bit of a dub maniac, I relish the appearance of the Congos on "Hold Us Down"-- their falsettos remind me of some many distant afternoons communing with the Prophets in ishans righteousness. But in some dubious gambit to garner critics' kudos and also to broaden their appeal, Rae and Christian senselessly plant those ringing reggae voices in the same Ethan Allen lounge-set trip-hop as they do the rest of their collaborators.

As you can imagine, it's hard for me not to compliment the duo for the accuracy of the title they selected for this album. Absent from it are any moments that startle you, send you searching for the tracklist last seen burrowing its way to freedom from the discarded hosiery of girlfriends, the tickertape of PizzaMart coupons, and cardboard sculptures formed from microwave-safe take-out rice containers. Sleepwalking doesn't have a startling track like Northern Sulphuric's "Spellbound" to lift it out from the polite sludge of trip-hop mush. Had Rae and Christian been more concerned with the quality of their songs rather than the luminescence of their guests, they could have achieved dynamic duo status rather than ending up a Bert and Ernie.

-Paul Cooper