That's not a bad idea. As shown Kiran Sande's recent Fact Magazine survey of electroclash's Top 20 records—not to mention the oddly concurrent issuing of this album alongside new ones by Peaches and DJ Hell—time has been better to the cream of that epoch than even the New York club-goers who loved it as it was happening might have guessed.
Still, "Amuse Bouche" is an anomaly here: Warren Fischer and Casey Spooner have moved onto (ostensibly) bigger things, sound-wise. Entertainment isn't so much electroclash as electro-pop; it's more reminiscent of late-'80s Depeche Mode than, say, The Normal. The sound is big and detailed, no doubt thanks in part to Jeff Saltzman, who's also produced The Killers. And yes, that is a problem—not because of the Killers, per se, but because when you have a sound this like-it-or-not commanding, you really ought to do more with it than Fischerspooner does here. After a half-dozen plays I can barely remember anything without going back and re-listening.
And when I do, I vaguely regret it. "We—we are electric," one chorus proclaims over fritzing keyboards and stern guitar feedback. Gee, guys—are you the future, too? "Money Can't Dance" joins the Pet Shop Boys' "Love Etc." in the current no-shit what-good-is-cash sweepstakes; I'm not entirely certain whether lines such as, "It ain't got no arms / Ain't got no legs / Ain't got no eyes / Ain't got no head," are intended to be funny or not, but we can hope. Or maybe not, because "Money Can't Dance" is followed immediately by "In a Modern World," which sounds like a Thompson Twins outtake—the Thompson Twins, people. Even if I never loved Fischerspooner entirely before, once upon a time I don't think I could ever have accused them of that.