[Moshi Moshi Recordings]

Adored by the press and embraced by audiences beyond dance music circles, Hercules & Love Affair’s self-titled debut album could not have been better received. Head songwriter/producer Andy Butler’s elaborate disco and house tunes felt simultaneously faithful and inventive, persuading many listeners to revise their assumptions about how engrossing the oft-maligned forms could be. With his Tim Goldsworthy-produced sound finding such acclaim, it would have been understandable if H&LA’s second full-length largely deferred to those original blueprints. Yet for Blue Songs, Butler’s newly configured group tackled a broader range of styles tied together by his canny songwriting and the guidance of veteran producers and instrumentalists.

The most conspicuous difference between the albums is in their personnel. With Antony Hegarty and Nomi Ruiz departing, Butler enlisted Aerea Negrot and fan-turned-contributor Shaun Wright to take over androgynous diva duties. Aided by long time collaborator Kim Ann Foxman and Bloc Party’s Kele Okereke, the group turns Antony’s absence into an opportunity to display a multitude of vocal talents. Hercules & Love Affair’s instrumental core received a makeover as well, recruiting an equally inveterate cast of players from bands as disparate as Santana, Meat Beat Manifesto and Elektro Guzzi. But an album that finds Butler reaching for synthesizers and drum machines more often than the bright horns of S/T is clearly influenced by the addition of synth wizards Patrick Pulsinger and Mark Pistel. Bringing with them the grit of their own respective sounds, the album pulses with live-wire energy and is executed with a preciseness that comes with many years of experience behind the boards.

Even with the shuffled line-up and enduring presence of synthesizers, Blue Songs seems like a natural progression for Hercules & Love Affair. The group’s disco roots shine through on the jubilant “Falling” and the skewed funk of “Answers Come In Dreams.” They’re also felt in “Leonora,” a Butler/Foxman sung tune whose placid, synth-aided vibes reference Pet Shop Boys in the same breath as low-key boogie. A gentle disco pulse even runs through the ornate baroque instrumentation of the title track. Butler’s desire to write songs unrelated to the dance floor and his penchant for orchestral pop manifests itself in the album’s midsection. Thick with strummed guitar lines, stately horn arrangements and palpitating synths, “Boy Blue” has Wright serenading listeners as if he were Arthur Lee of Love. But the album’s slowest number is also its most patience-testing; the group’s cover of “It’s Alright” by Sterling Void pairs Foxman’s deliberate phrasing with somber piano chords, coming off hopeful but mawkish, especially as the record’s closing chapter.

The most promising moments on Blue Songs come when Butler rekindles his love for making house music, a sound attempted only briefly on S/T. The first single, “My House,” snaps together Chicago-influenced beats and an eminently memorable chorus wherein Wright gushes over a stable relationship he compares to his home. “I Can’t Wait” is a quirky melange of sputtering samples and a defiant vocal performance by Foxman, during which she throws off the mantle of victimhood and promises to “fight my own fires.” Perhaps the most unexpected delight is how tremendously Kele Okereke fronts the breezy “Step Up.” His ode to owning up to one’s true identity is subtle but affecting, insisting, “Baby, you might just be like this / Baby, this might be who you are.” All this said, Blue Songs is not a house record as some critics have blithely suggested, overlooking the prevalence of disco signifiers and the depth of its ponderous moments. House is but one genre in the band’s repertoire — one they’ve gotten even better at executing but ultimately only part of the whole package.

Hercules & Love Affair should be celebrated for taking risks and coming away with a more mature, complex and varied offering. For audiences weaned on the group’s more singularly focused, DFA-endorsed first album, however, Blue Songs may disappoint. Lacking hipster cred and a bellowing Antony to distract from thinly veiled gay themes, the album’s variety could be seen as inaccessible to fickle or unadventurous listeners. Yet art should not necessarily be judged by the reactions of cautious, trend-hopping audiences. An album as accomplished as Blue Songs shows impressive development in Andy Butler’s songwriting and his ability to recruit and arrange talented artists. Making tough choices rarely elicits rapturous receptions, but doing so can be just as satisfying in the end.