Like fellow second-wavers Felix Da Housecat and Green Velvet, Derrick Carter came up in a Chicago house scene that was comfortably settled into its elemental formula. The style's airtight bass kicks, mechanistic moods, and sexy hesitations fell into place during the '80s days of Mr. Fingers and Phuture, but Carter sustains their long-term viability in a way that rarely conflates devotion with degeneration. House in the purest sense of the term, Squaredancing In A Roundhouse sticks to a steady diet of four-four rhythms and jump-up bounce. But even at his most slavish, Carter breathes enough life into his first proper "artist album" to do well by his reputation as one of the most revered DJs in clubland. The album-opening "Boompty Boomp Theme" divines a mini-manifesto out of those two onomatopoeic action words, tying them to the same elastic beat strings Carter tugs and snaps in the well-titled "The Hollow Clash Of Marionettes." The first two songs focus on the upright funk of Chicago-born "jack track" house, which trades on rhythmic fits and starts that loosen up the tighter they're pulled. The same goes for the album's frequent acid-house quotations, which send devilish synth squiggles snaking through rigid beat patterns that warp on cue. As a producer, Carter shows off an impressively deft hand, rubbing warmed-over soulscapes ("All Dreams Collide") against hard chargers built from thick foundations of Basement Jaxx-grade thwack ("If I"). He also shows a liking for Chicago-style weirdness on "Friends Talk," which features a vocoder-voiced child inviting clubgoers to his house for a night of tacos and tater-tots. The idiotic spoken-word goofiness stretches well past its breaking point after eight minutes, but "Friends Talk" hits on the kind of understated character that earns Squaredancing In A Roundhouse its choice of positions in the latter-day house pantheon.