Flin Flon's aggressively stiff, Spartan interpretation of New Wave and British post- punk seems the next logical step for Mark Robinson. With Unrest, he was a veritable catalog of eccentric obsessions, played out in songs which practically defined "indie pop:" a guitar jangle sped up into a fast strum or slowed down to an icy chime, a suitably propelling rhythm section, and dreamy, yearning vocals. But sometimes I think Robinson's obsession with musical precision borders on the unhealthy; every move that Flin Flon makes, every note and drumbeat, is so entirely deliberate that it borders on the fetishistic. Which is probably what Robinson and company mean to do, but I still find it a tad creepy.

By all rights, I should love Flin Flon, as I'm an avowed fan of simple, stripped- down pop songs. And Boo-Boo continues Flin Flon's "play only one note at a time" aesthetic introduced on A-OK, with wiry (Wire-y?) radar- blip guitar lines, thick, just- slightly- distorted bass, and abstract drumming. Oh, and we can't forget Mark Robinson's vocals, still boyish and innocent, singing lyrics that are even more cryptic than ever.

So why don't I like Boo-Boo all that much? It might be as simple as Flin Flon spending all their time on achieving the right sound, at the expense of the songwriting. A-OK is definitely the poppier record, and it certainly has more memorable hooks; Boo-Boo could be interpreted as a classic sophomore slump, an attempt to experiment more within the severe limitations the band has set for itself. Good moments include "Mistaken Point," which effortlessly shifts gears from elegantly gloomy to boisterous and upbeat; "Jumpers"' scattered drumming and bubbly bass; and "Virgin Arm," which hits the pop- song nail right on the head. Overall, though, Boo-Boo leaves me a bit cold. I miss the days when Robinson wasn't afraid to sweep his audience away to a giddy indie pop wonderland. Then again, I also miss "Alf." Why the hell isn't that show in syndication?

-Nick Mirov