ali Puna fits right at home on Morr Music. The label’s distinctive style of warm analog synth tones and fragile drum machines gets filtered through Markus Acher’s Kraut-pop lens into Scary World Theory, Lali Puna’s second album. Acher’s compositions combined with singer Valeria Trebeljahr’s voice create a sort of glitchy bastard child of Stereolab.


Acher coaxes sterile pop loops into a mix that percolates more than his subsequent Notwist album, but with a stripped-down instrumentation. Valeria Trebeljahr keeps her voice emotion-free, either singing with complete detachment or simply speaking. The combination makes for disconcertingly emotionless pop. The opener, the joylessly bouncing “Nin-Com-Pop” sets the tone of the album, featuring thick organ tones, analog bass tones, and a gurgling percussion section draped with Trebeljahr’s melancholic intonations. It’s like eurodance for sad robots.


The style is certainly strangely compelling, but it proves to wear over the course of the album. The next three tracks sort of fly by without leaving much impression – all featuring delicate layers of analog instruments and bubbling beats. The music lacks substance (although that may be the point), and Trebeljahr’s detached vocals don’t add any energy to the mix. This changes with the title track. Shimmering atmospheric synths are draped over delicately reverbed guitar notes. Trebeljahr’s vocals are high pitched, and almost a whisper – she sounds like she’s a child singing a nursery rhyme: “I never said you had to be afraid / Of the cookie monster behind your bed.” The song stands out as one of the few dramatic moments on the album, and foreshadows Acher’s abilities with mixing instrumentation into beautiful harmonies better represented on the Notwist’s Neon Golden.


The next track, “50 Faces Of” also provides a change of pace from the album’s stainless steel first half. A tribal house rhythm (played out on a Morr-styled tiny drum machine) and a Roland-303 bass line (with most of the squelch shaved off) propel Scary World Theory back into crystalline synth-pop territory. “Come on Home” uses a lovely crackling piano sample as a loop around which glitched up drum machines wrap themselves, held in place by Trebeljahr’s monotone mumbling. Once again, Lali Puna shows a glimmer of an organic being behind their mechanical façade.


The album closes with a short instrumental, “Satur-Nine,” made up of analog bass and processed bells. I’m always frustrated at the album’s close: Lali Puna shows a great ability to create emotionally stirring music, but instead withdraw into vaguely melancholy mechanical synth-pop. The effect is tantalizing and interesting, but ultimately Scary World Theory leaves me a bit disappointed, similarly to the Notwist’s Neon Golden. Markus Acher is truly talented; I just hope his next project will fulfill his potential to really blow me away.