There's a frightening new disease on the loose. I called up the CDC and they had no idea what I was talking about. True, I've only found one case of this disease, but the evidence is bold and shocking. (And don't worry-- it's not airborne.) I think it might be transmitted through a shoe boutique in Brooklyn. I think I'm going to either call the it "Brent's Disease" (since I discovered it, obviously) or "Deee-Litification Disease." Slowly, but surely, the ailment mutates its carriers into Deee-Lite. Scary, ain't it? Right now we should be quarantining the Scotch trio Bis and making sure this hideous affliction never crosses the Atlantic. (There is fear, however, that Luscious Jackson may also be infected, though it's too soon to say for sure.)

The most obvious symptom is the physical metamorphosis into Deee-Lite. John Disco, the taller, lankier one, has grown his sideburns into shaggy Eastern beasts, and has taken to wearing knit ski-caps and tacky button- down shirts. Tragically, he's becoming Super DJ Dimitry. As the condition progresses, increasingly ridiculous hair growth patterns are appearing on his face. Poor Sci-Fi Steven (if that is his real name) wears his jet hair in the distinctive bowl of DJ Towa Tei. And Manda Rin, unfortunately, is experiencing the most devastating cell degeneration-- she's slowly melting into the skin- tight Lady Miss Kier-- all breasts and eyeballs, her anime head luring in boys like a sexy hydrocephalic pokemon. Next up: rainbow clothing.

Yet, Deee-Litification Disease does not only manifest visibly. The symptoms can also be heard sonically, as evident on Bis' second proper LP, Social Dancing. Please submit the track "Eurodisco" as tissue sample A. First of all, it's called "Eurodisco," sounding House-ish and/or latter- era U2-ish, neither of which is anywhere near "good." The song thumps along like a part- time Pet Shop Boys as echoing vocals bounce off mirrored studio walls. The melody mimics Kim Wilde's '80s hit "You Keep Me Hanging On--" every sound seems crafted by lasers, the run- of- the- mill "ump-tiss" beat rolling drearily along on cruise control. This "groove" flows right into "Action and Drama," where Rin exclaims, "Give me Bananarama!" (Actually, I think they're available. It shouldn't be too difficult to arrange.)

"I'm a Slut" and "Shopaholic" are the deep, introspective numbers on Social Dancing. They take obvious stances towards femininity and sexual politics, much like Deee-Lite, in a "Is my dress too short? Deal with it!" manner. "Shopaholic" laundry- lists products that Bis enjoys purchasing with captivating detai... er, no. It doesn't help that Manda Rin's voice sounds as sultry and welcome as an alarm clock at 6:48 AM. Brief respite from the screeching comes with the guest appearance of northwestern indie rock icon and Amazon.com writer Lois Maffeo-- it manages to make a K Records stalwart sound like the damn Sneaker Pimps.

More evidence of the disease lies with the fact that Bis are in the midst of their "mature" era, much like Deee-Lite's 1994 release Dewdrops in the Garden. When Bis tries to claim punk cred on "It's All New" with their rallying "glamour won't hide the truth," you just feel like calling them up and reminding them that they posed for New York's official teenage skater coke- head fashion catalog, Alloy.

Listening to Social Dancing is remarkably similar to watching anime porn-- you have to be either somewhat disturbed or Japanese to enjoy it. Even though Bis are slowly, sadly deteriorating into Deee-Lite, they still never manage to "spill chills on your back, with satisfaction." Social Dancing is a drunken, disappointing hook-up at a retro nightclub (someplace you should never have been in the first place).

-Brent DiCrescenzo