The history of Elisabeth Esselink, the artist behind the one-woman band Solex, should make her hard to resist: She began her career by sampling old merchandise and making playful collages out of castoff vinyl borrowed from her used-record store in Amsterdam's red-light district. Intriguing as that is, though, she's always walked the fine line separating the best artists from novelty acts in the world of sample-happy electronic pop. Low Kick And Hard Bop, her third album, finds her walk particularly wobbly, as she mixes sloppy beat work with awkward singing that makes her songs feel like tossed-off indie pop. Musically, Solex resembles an airy mix of Tricky, Ween, and Cibo Matto. The album's title track is a moody pastiche of low-end trip-hop malaise, sizzling harmonica, prankishly precious piano, and a cartoonish electronic burble that sounds like boiling Kool-Aid. On "Not A Hoot!," Solex laces a rumbling big-band drum solo with a sort of Kraftwerk clang, warping matters even further with lyrics that jump off from, "They had turkey-wing fans, and they felt kind of elegant." At its warped best, Low Kick And Hard Bop's mix of riffs ripped from jazz, organ-drenched '60s garage rock, and chirpy pop is a lot of fun. Unfortunately, Esselink's singing grows unbearable as she prattles on nonsensically about Popeye, waiters, and inglenooks. Bringing lines to a resounding thud with her deliberately fractured delivery, Esselink sours the album's musical highs with the taste of twee pop's ever-present cheeky tongue.