The musical ghosts of Gary Numan, Kraftwerk, Mantronix, and Bambaataa hover in the air as one listens to Luke Slater's Wireless, a far more focused, four-on-the-floor, electro-flavored platter than his vibrantly all-over-the-place 1997 debut Freek Funk. But don't worry--Wireless pays distinct homage to the past, yet this is one of those rare CDs that pushes the envelope of techno forward while partying all night like tomorrow will never come. It's a cheerful record that's difficult to describe without sounding cheesy; it rarely lags in energy even during the moody, deranged downtempo bits such as "Bolt Up." Created with layers of live drums and electrobreaks, and in a manner that coaxes the most emotion possible out of every musical gesture, the CD is a maximalist triumph, a study in the essential contradictions (man vs. machine; robot vs. human) that characterize life at the turn of the century. You can totally dance to it, too. --Mike McGonigal