For a band that doesn't seem to bother with the whole "tuning" thing, the Lynnfield Pioneers sound pretty damn good. They're a thrashing mess of distorted guitar, dissonant Moog organ, unfettered drumming and delightfully adolescent lyrics praising the virtues of drugs and sex ("she always said she was just the same/she liked tequila and cocaine"). A spirited intensity infused with funkiness and pop sensibility propels their latest effort, Emerge, beyond the banality this formula might suggest--but not very far beyond. About half the songs take off while the rest crash and burn.

The Lynnfield Pioneers approach their craft with a less-skill-is-more attitude. None of the members stands out as a particularly gifted musician. The songs are simple: no odd meters or complex chord changes. Only the drummer, the most talented musician in the group, tries to play anything at all complex. But his hubris is evident as he foils many fills and distracts the listener from the flow of the music. Even without much skill, he and the rest of the band play with an in-your-face aggressiveness that overshadows their lack of technical prowess. Although balanced in its different elements, their sound lumbers clumsily along.

The Lynnfield Pioneers sound unabashedly unrehearsed. The tunes lack structure and coordination: The band seems to be no more aware of when the song should end than the listener. Many start with a open chord guitar riff that continues throughout, while nonsense vocals rhyme over the top and the Moog organ and drums embellish the texture.

The Lynnfield Pioneers are based in Brooklyn, and two members, Mike Janson and Dan Cook, hail from Lynnfield, Mass. Cook and Janson share the singing and guitar playing duties, and J.P. Jones holds the band together on drums. They are one of a number of new bands to play without a bassist. Emerge is their first full-length album on Matador Records, following a series of EPs released on that label. The band formed in 1995, when Janson and Cook, then roommates, began to record casually.

The quality of Emerge reveals that they have plenty of panache, but little musical maturity. This contributes to the highly energetic and raw character of their music. The opening track, "Go For a Ride," starts unapologetically. A cacophonic barrage of whining guitar and organ introduces the song. The jubilant first verse orders the chaos, while the dissonant organ chords boil underneath, creating harmonic tension. This structure complements and enhances the forceful vocals and hard-hitting drums that motor this three-minute ditty to its exhausted end.

The absence of a bass player doesn't detract from the full sound the Lynnfield Pioneers achieve. The organ and guitar fill in the lower register. In fact, playing without a bass player gives a distinguished sparseness to their music and keeps the sound from becoming too cumbersome or heavy. Throughout they play with animated earnestness.

"Bad Luck Baby" displays the band's talent for using space effectively. The tune is a pleasant relief from the barrage of distorted sound launched by many other tracks. The verse is pared down to a clean and simple guitar riff, light drums and vocals. The entire song is a theme on this guitar part with the organ coming in at the chorus to fill out the sound.

The Lynnfield Pioneers show off their pop sensibility on "Unlucky Stars." Though one of the more conventional tracks, it doesn't pander to possible radio play by compromising the band's out of tune, abrasive sound. The outfit displays their danceable side on "Get Off Your Feet." Janson and Cook sing catchy couplets in a style redolent of "Licensed to Ill." The song adheres to lyrical convention, enjoining the listener to "Dance!" many times over. The band approaches these conventions with a refreshing irony that prevents "Get Off Your Feet" and other more dance-oriented cuts from losing their originality.

Overall, the album's lyrics say nothing original, and along with the vocals, are its weakest component. "Bus," for example, stands out for its pseudo-poetry: "The driver talked too much/but we had our coffee cups/and our cups of tea/just you and me."

Emerge could have been better rehearsed. Full of wavering tempos and sloppy transitions, it comes across more like a live recording than a finished album. Although the unpolished sound gives the Lynnfield Pioneers character, they take it to a slovenly extreme.

The Lynnfield Pioneers approach the album with a recipe for music-making that fails as often as it succeeds. The first half of the album is far superior to the second half because its songs have a trajectory and each tune an organizing theme lacking on the rest of Emerge. The second half sounds like a teenage garage band aimlessly jamming, giving the impression that the Lynnfield Pioneers recorded the songs before they finished writing them. These unfinished works contain some good ideas and developing or condensing them would result in a far superior product. Despite the album's faults, the Lynnfield Pioneers' boisterous energy and conviction keeps them holding on.