Dance Dance Revolution

Sure, Mamma Mia just came out, but ABBA isn't the only band who's benefiting from a resurgence of interest in disco. The world over, electronic groups are updating the synth-driven genre for a new generation, taking cues from house, trip-hop and let's-not-call-it-new-rave along the way. Take a chance on some of our favorites, but be prepared: these aren't your parents' disco acts.

HERCULES AND LOVE AFFAIR

Andy Butler, the New York DJ and mastermind behind Hercules and Love Affair, has some advice for people who don't dance at concerts. "The whole idea of being reserved, closed, inhibited -- that's not so sexy," Butler says. "What's really sexy is when you're goofing around and expressing yourself." And it's hard not to, when you listen to his project's stunning debut album -- which Butler calls 50 percent disco, 25 percent house and 25 percent "sort of like, I don't know... emotional, ambient, dance-poppy, New Wave, artsy music." Though the album didn't come out in the States until June 24, the first single, "Blind," had been cropping up in DJ sets for months beforehand -- something Butler and his bandmates, Nomi and Kim Ann, didn't fail to notice when they played a set at Studio B in Brooklyn back in May and everyone in the audience sang along. That "Blind" fell quickly into heavy rotation on so many iPods and turntables is due in large part to the haunting vocals of Antony Hegarty, whom Butler met about eight years ago through mutual friends in the East Village. It was an unlikely combination, maybe -- Hegarty's previous work, as the frontman of Antony and the Johnsons, has been more Rufus Wainwright than Roxy Music. But Hegarty's rich, melancholy falsetto on half the songs on Hercules and Love Affair provides a gorgeous balance to the album's poppy synth, horns and hi-hat. Don't overlook the five songs on which Hegarty isn't featured, though -- Hercules and Love Affair is the kind of album that rewards multiple listens, full and complex and playful, too. Like his work, Butler is full of surprises; when asked which historical figure he'd want to have an affair with, his answer isn't what you might expect. "Even though Abraham Lincoln wasn't terribly good-looking, there was that rumor that he was gay, and he did so much good stuff for the world," Butler explains. "He's also big and tall, so, I don't know, I wouldn't mind cuddling up to him."

CUT COPY

Cut Copy are perhaps the most inclined among their peers to take electro-disco back to a simpler place -- look at the track listing for their latest album, In Ghost Colours. With songs like "Lights and Music," "Hearts on Fire" and "Feel the Love," you can't help but be flooded by positive vibes. (It doesn't hurt that they're not afraid to throw in some heavy brass.) Aussies Dan Whitford, Tim Hoey and Mitchell Scott have the new-era disco thing down to a science -- they've been at it since 2001 -- and In Ghost Colours is a near-perfect payoff for all that practice; it's a neat, joyful 40 minutes, all crescendos and infectious bridges. Hoey, for his part, doesn't foster any delusions -- he explains that Cut Copy's first priority has always been simply to make great pop songs. And while the album's a natural standby at a party or in a DJ set, the true thrill is seeing the boys live. Lead singer Whitford is almost messianically expressive onstage; he raises his arms to the audience as though inviting them to share in some awesome hallucination. See them this fall -- when they'll be headlining with, funny enough, The Presets -- and you won't be able to help but oblige.

THE PRESETS

Inspiration is a very particular sensation for Julian Hamilton, one-half of Sydney-based duo the Presets. "You get into this situation where you're tapping into the most honest core of yourself," he says. "It's like... you know when you're really trying to go to the toilet?" The rest of Hamilton's explanation gets a little scatological, but suffice it to say that apparently, the beauty is in the sense of relief. This is, of course, a little raunchy; but the Presets are nothing if not honest to a fault. (PopMatters called their 2005 release, Beams, "unsophisticated, promiscuous, filthy, and hedonistic,” and meant it all as a compliment.) Hamilton and his musical partner, Kim Noyes, may be the least pretentious members of the electro-pop ranks; they get it, but they don't rub it in your face. Hamilton drops mention of the Eurythmics and Pet Shop Boys as examples of bands who've done what he and Noyes aspire to do -- namely, to depart from what he terms the "stark and cold techno music” pervading the scene, and rather to "inject those spiky techno tracks with real lush, romantic, warm pop songs.” Apocalypso, written largely on a farm in New South Wales and released just a couple of months ago, is even tighter than the duo's sometimes dissociative debut. Throw "Yippiyo-ay,” reminiscent of MJ at his finest, onto your rooftop party mix and just dare your guests not to dance.

SALLY SHAPIRO

"I can't say why Italo disco in particular is getting so much attention," Johan Agebjörn says in an e-mail. "Except that it's one of the best musical genres that has ever existed." Agebjörn is the producer for Sally Shapiro, the notoriously reclusive Swedish artist who's largely responsible for anyone in 2008 even knowing what Italo disco is. The vocoder-heavy, New Wave-influenced genre had all but died out by the time the '90s hit, only to be resuscitated by Agebjörn and Shapiro on her debut, Disco Romance, released Stateside last year. Since then, Shapiro has become a bit of a sensation -- but without anyone ever learning her real name. Rumors of her shyness haven't been exaggerated -- it's fairly common knowledge that she won't give live interviews or perform in public; but Agebjörn adds, "Sally is not present when I do my part, and I am not present when Sally does her part, since she prefers me to stay out of the studio when she sings." The two have taken advantage of the degree of anonymity made possible by the nature of electronic music -- the genre affords the possibility of drawing an avid following even without cultivating a larger-than-life public image. "Even though rock albums also are often recorded one instrument at a time, I don't think rock bands are formed by musicians who are too shy to play their parts for each other," Agebjörn says. "But it's possible with an electronic music producer and a shy singer." Shapiro's pure, sweet voice and Agebjörn's undeniably catchy instrumentation have proven quite the inspiration for other groups and producers -- since Disco Romance, they've released two volumes of remixes of the album from such prominent acts as Holy Fuck, Junior Boys and Dntel. For his part, Agebjörn isn't sure Sally Shapiro can keep her identity concealed forever. "I think it will come out eventually," he says, "Especially if we continue the project. I guess Sally would feel uncomfortable with that, at least in the beginning." They're keeping on, though -- there won't be a third volume of remixes; the two are focusing on recording new tracks. Disco Romance certainly set the bar high, but Agebjörn keeps his expectations basic, and a little Zen, too. "If people feel moved in some way then I'm happy," he says. "If they dance or travel or chill out or make out while listening to it is irrelevant as long as they enjoy it. It's fantastic that music can be transformed from soundwaves to feelings when it reaches the human mind."

THE BLACK GHOSTS

The Black Ghosts' self-titled debut, released earlier this month, opens with a snarl -- lyrically, at least. Its first track, "Some Way Through This," features turns of phrase like, "If my hands were round your throat, would you tell me what I need to know?" You might mistake it for a Conor Oberst composition, if the music itself weren't so upbeat and percussive. The Black Ghosts -- British duo Theo Keating and Simon Lord, whom you may remember from The Wiseguys and Simian, respectively -- lend a welcome complexity to a genre too often driven by repetitious hooks and choruses. Sure, it's music you can dance to, but it's also music to think about -- many of The Black Ghosts' songs hinge on the darker side of love and obsession, topics dance artists typically avoid. The Gothic inclination is understandable, given the boys' backgrounds -- Keating's godfather directed horror movies, and Lord's grandmother, a music-hall satirist, was understood to be psychic. (Fittingly, The Black Ghosts released their first EP last Halloween.) The album's varied instrumentation doesn't disappoint, either -- it's sexy and ambitious, sometimes overwhelmingly so. Lord concedes this might be at least partially a product of first album-itis, the desire to fit every possible experiment onto one disc. "Dubstep, electro-disco, pop... that was part of what we wanted to do, was to make something that couldn't be summed up," he explains. "And that's what was exciting, making the album, was we'd do one track, and then the next one we'd do a bit completely different. That's making things complicated for ourselves, but, hell, you know? It's fun."