If S Process' 2001 release, More Me, had been released today, it'd be getting in line behind all the other dancepunk bands, with its post-punk residue guitar and futurist façade held up by a rickety beam of 80s synths. In 2001, it sounded great ideas, unearthing what were once rival influences-- disco and punk-- and ushering them into a new era to co-exist as an indestructible art force you could finally dance to. And credit is due, of course, as they were among the progenitors of the genre. But the fact remains that, just two years later, it's become undiscernible from the pack.

So maybe there's something energizing about distance. For their second full-length, MNML, core members Bob Doto, Daneil Mazone, and Julian Grefe (also of The Trans Megetti) sent each other tracks via post, writing long-distance songs from their homes in Boulder, Providence, and Philly, respectively. Long-distance relationships are nearly impossible to maintain, and long-distance bands echo the statistics: I'm guessing the survival and/or success ratio of these bands to be around 1 in 50. For the rest, the mail-order romance end in monotonous over-simplicity or blinding disconnect. But magically, MNML clicks in all the right, punky discotheque places, and it's love American style.

S Process' rhythm section sends the dancepunk idiom flailing like a jackknifed truck of bricks. Where other low-slung hipsters bark angrily atop cold hi-hat beats, this trio softens any pointed angles with a smart emotionalism. Heavily rhythmic, electronic-smattered dance-pop numbers are the name of the game-- and when the instrumentals are short on arty hooks, the vocals are long on lilting melodies. It's a wise and balanced move, and it sends S Process just across the threshold into their own vista of elaborately composed tracks, sparkling with guitar, drums, programmed electronics, even actual pianos.

Also, possibly thanks to producer Phil Ek, the rhythm section sounds hotter, fatter, and more driven than those of their counterparts, Rick Mitchell's basslines burning across the record with a fireball intensity. Sure, they're no Gang of Four, and their vocals don't sit stiffly at 90-degree angles. It's more like a fuzzy 45, bent and melting; more Craig Wedren than Indra Dunis.

The band opts to reference Boy George before exposing its damaged goods. On MNML's best track, "I'm a Cement Mixer/I Heart You", vocalist Bob Doto chirps either "Karma Karma Karma Chameleon" or "Come on, come on chameleon"; either way, it's executed with the enthusiasm and timbre of Lee Ranaldo's "Hey Joni" treatise, as decorated by a trembling orchestra of road-burning guitars and hi-hats sharp enough to cut through glass.

And best of all, S Process never abandon their subtle combination of club-hot bass and warm, emotionally fertile vocals vice-versa. Even in the seething, rigid "Spring Garden Drive-By", in which Mazone sings, "Function or fashion/ Fashion or fuck you... Six-finger Rick is the sickest boy in Providence!" has a certain fiery-passionate twang about it, among its clipped beats and thumping bass breakdowns, leaving you to pray this is one long-distance relationship with staying power.

-Julianne Shepherd, April 18th, 2003