Orchard & Ire is an almost technically flawless pop album. Chris Adenay, on his fourth album under the name Wax Mannequin, knows what he wants to do in a production room. He’s certainly living up to the early forecasts of being the heir to Bob Wiseman’s wise-cracking ironic stances, but the lovely Rheostatics-inspired moments of his earlier albums have given way on Orchard & Ire to a dense and detailed, teutonic, heavy metal sound. All that’s needed to complete the gag is a miniature Stonehenge and a chorus of “Break like the wind!” One is left to wonder at promotional notes that declare, “The songs sound like jokes at first, but they are serious.” It sounds more like Adenay is hiding behind the safety of irony, where he could always say “You didn’t like it? Well, it was all a joke anyway.” Completely hidden away by his posturing, it is impossible to connect with him emotionally — truly living up to the mannequin portion of his sobriquet. Bob Wisemen had his Worksongs from the Planet of the Apes, and even the Ween Brothers have had moments where they stepped back from the winks and nods to show what they truly believed in. Chris Adenay is still happy to hide behind his cleverness, lacking the confidence to put a heart on his sleeve.
    British electronic duo Hexstatic, on the other hand, are stuck halfway between cleverness and a newfound need to be taken seriously. With their carefree sense of play well-honed in their multimedia presentations, the open access to old electronica archives given to them for 2004’s Audio-Visual continues to pay off on When Robots Go Bad. The album reveals a sincere and well-developed love of early ’80s electronic music. “Tokyo Traffic” is perhaps one of the best celebratory tributes to that decade’s dance music, even though other artists like Armand van Helden are all over the same sound this summer. “Red Laser Beam,” with its electro-rock guitar riffs, is one of the few album tracks that plays on the robot-gone-bad theme. As elsewhere, the songs display a thematic weakness. Hexstatic is caught, unsure of whether to aim for title-inspired kitsch, or “serious” attempts at club hits, as with the back-to-back “A Different Place” and “Subway”, both featuring the standard female guest vocals (B+ and Profisee). The result, with the two aforementioned exceptions aside, is rather forgettable.