Admittedly, not every moment of Simian's first full-length hangs together; the opening minute of lo-fi oompah evokes a skeptical glance that's quickly surpassed, and some of the later tracks ambient themselves so far into the sonic wallpaper that you'll hardly be aware you're listening to them. When this Manchester four-piece (the very proper lads Simon Lord, James Ford, Jas Shaw, and Alex MacNaghten) distinguish themselves from the decor, however, they practically reinvent the room. Like the photos gracing the cover of Chemistry Is What We Are -- Thömas Grunfeld's distinctively recombinated animals: a sheep's head on a dog's body; a swan with the torso of a rabbit and the legs of an ostrich; a goat with the head of a doberman -- Simian casually graft disparate patterns into an engaging and surprisingly natural whole.

After an underwhelming beginning, opening track "Drop and Roll" opens up into a relaxed groove, full of late-period Beatles harmonies and a thoroughly modern synthesized sheen. The lyrics hint at both catastrophe ("Smoke alarm is ringing out/We have to run/Grey dragon is curling round/Watch it glow") and acceptance ("Let's burn and go and join the throng/Movement flowing like a song/The air is calling out"), but the vocals couldn't be any more laid back. "The Wisp" essentially replays "Drop and Roll", some of the lyrics and all, with an overlay of overtly processed squiggles and a dubby echo in the background. That the choice comes across as unexpected instead of simply repetitive demonstrates the band's unique blend of organic and electronic. The combination of real and virtual instruments is nothing new (Mouse on Mars have done it just as well -- in a more complex, fractured form -- already this year with Idiology), but the effectiveness rate is not often as high as on Chemistry. "You Set Off My Brain" cops the orchestral pop of the Beach Boys minus a bit of the tense precision, while "How Could I Be Right"'s acoustic strum and embarrassing cassette-tape vocal ("Oh, I want to find a government minion/And fucking kill his mindset") is the album's weakest point.

Luckily, it's followed by Chemistry's namesake-quoting "One Dimension", a dose of unshakably catchy psychedelic pop that states the album's biological imperative: "Clarity is bliss, but/Chemistry is what we are." The remainder of the album rises and falls like a wave, sometimes lullingly pleasant but always with a highpoint surging into view. "Mr. Crow" provides an upbeat sing-a-long to the appropriate question, "Hey, Mr. Crow/Why are you always stoned?" before "Round and Around"'s densely hypnotic swirl. "Chamber" ends the album proper (two "US-only bonus tracks" are welcome but not revelatory) with the quietly sung contradiction "I will shout." Though not without its faults, Chemistry Is What We Are earns the right -- with a demonstrated originality and assured execution -- to be judged by its highest rather than lowest points, and from that judgment emerges a winner.