I folded back the five year-old's scribbling on crack cover art, and removed the small silver disc contained therein. Suddenly, staring up at me from beneath the clear plastic tray of Laurent Garnier's Unreasonable Behaviour were the following words:

"J'espére que tu t'es lavé les mains avant de me toucher!!!"

Or, as those of you who endured four years of high school French have already translated, "I hope that you washed your hands before touching me!!!" "My God," I gasped as I read the words over and over. "It can't be-- a clean Frenchman!" (Tactful, yes?)

Sadly, Garnier's request didn't quite mesh with my usual ritual of soaking my hands in rancid donkey piss before reviewing an album. (I figure, if athletes are allowed their fucked up good-luck charms, who's to say critics shouldn't be allowed the same idiosyncrasies?) I hadn't yet listened to the album, and I wasn't sure if it was worth the effort of heeding its warning. But here at Pitchfork, we believe in giving any album, regardless of nationality, the benefit of the doubt.

Popping the disc in, I couldn't help but harbor a secret hope that Garnier would single-handedly manage to cast away the obnoxious kitsch that is too often associated with French dance music. It wouldn't be easy, though-- within a few seconds of Unreasonable Behaviour's opener, it was pretty clear that Garnier was working well within the range of Mute Records' burbling synth and drum machine electronica.

Indeed, the album has all the tenets of this particular variety of electronic music: relatively simple, slightly lounge-tinged chord structures, spastic synth melodies, and stereotypical drum machine beats. What makes Unreasonable Behaviour of note is the fact that, at his best, Garnier understands the single greatest asset of the type of music he's working with: it sounds really cool. Unreasonable Behaviour excels through simple flourishes-- the thundering bass synth in "The Warning," the blaring trumpet in "The Man with the Red Face," and the flanged snare drum of "Forgotten Thoughts." Melodically, though, there's nothing new here. Typical techno fare.

Though this record is, at times, immensely cool-sounding, Garnier seems to have difficulty overcoming the quirk. An open note to all techno musicians: Vocoders are not cool. "Hey! It's a voice, but it sounds like a computer! Neat!" No, not neat. On Unreasonable Behaviour's mercifully short title track, Garnier couples a thoroughly annoying vocoder with an equally annoying speech about techno. One minute and twenty seconds of sheer annoyance. And just as irritating, but longer, is the extended foray into heavy-handed manipulated vocals on "Greed (Part 1+2)."

Unreasonable Behavior is a very well-executed album at times, but it certainly doesn't live up to its name. Garnier is quick to point out that the CD and vinyl versions of this album contain different tracks and mixes: "Unreasonable behaviour? You said it!" No, Laurent, I didn't say it. But aside from putting words in your mouth, Garnier seems hell-bent on putting words on his albums. Bad, bad words. Minus the kitsch, this album would get a pristine thumb pointed upwards. But it's going to take a lot more than Garnier's brand of uneven techno to get me to wash these hands.

-Matt LeMay