There's more music around than ever these days. Possibly one of the most over-subscribed styles is electronica, given the (let's face it) increased ease of music making, myriad of styles, and large club, radio and home audiences. The situation means that brilliant music is created, as ever, but that it is perhaps increasingly hemmed in by barely-adequate filler music looking for an entry point into success. In this atmosphere, Lemonade is most definitely not in the top flight of quality. The Brooklyn-based outfit have put together a set of six long tracks in a fashion which is reminiscent of the dire new GusGus record. Admittedly, though, Lemonade's album is far superior to the Icelandic effort. There are flashes of great sounds here, some distinctive flourishes that too many dance records lack.Take, for example, the gorgeous piano riff on closer 'Bliss Out'. It's a microcosm of the songs as a whole. That riff is a great, striking sound, but it's mired in an otherwise uninspiring track and is criminally underused. There are several other musical features across these tracks which are stuck in a similar situation, and it makes this music a frustrating listen - the good ideas are buried under too much mediocrity. Lyrics and vocals add little to nothing to the songs, so generic are they. All that makes the lyrics distinctive is the annoying sub-Walrus "zany" string of phrases that make up "Real Slime", for example.There are moments on Lemonade when some parallels to Animal Collective show up (especially given the Collective's being based in New York, too) but these merely underline Lemonade's inferiority. Trapped by their own ill-formed ideas, like the half-baked faux-Arabic stylings of "Nasifon", Lemonade look increasingly outgunned by their rivals of recent times, from Memory Tapes to Röyksopp, who have made far more dynamic and listenable records this year. At the end of the album, various voices repeat "we're all having a good time" like a mantra, as if we need to be convinced of it. The truth is that for most listeners, that phrase will be more of an irony than a confirmation of our feelings.Lemonade on MySpace