Chance's End

With a screech of chalk, today's lesson begins. It's time for the music-appreciation professor to liven up his boring-ass syllabus. "Set Me Free is an example of motifs from the classic period blended with modern elements like brickbeats," he says with a satisfied half-grin. As string-backed programming plays, some girl in the back row cocks the bill of her Kangol and coughs, "BREAK b-heats! Uhua, hgah!" Muted giggles bubble throughout the classroom as the Œdown' crowd exchanges knowing glances.

Upon further study of Chance's End's full-length debut, the upperclassmen of the club world will discover a mature, dramatic, well-produced album. Even though it leans toward the formulaic, with dreamy, over-the-top trance swells and short synth blasts, the release boasts several standout compositions fit for dance-floor stardom. On "Break Beat Underground," for example, guest vocalist Roxaneh Khorsand croons an infectious hook that could make a remix of this track break anthem of the year. If Chance's End hasn't contacted Adam Freeland for a remix deal yet, it should. (Hint: Make sure Mr. Marine Parade nixes the rap: Bhudda Bounce's flow comes across as misspelled as his name.) Though B-girls and -boys may guffaw at Chance's tender approach, an open mind can soak in interesting musical insight: While the true essence of street-core breaks seems subdued, Set Me Free's exploratory foray makes sophisticated choices in arrangement and melody. Listen up, 'cause class is in session.