"Fire in the disco! Fire in the... Taco Bell!" So go the first words to "Danger! High Voltage," the bracing single that sent Electric Six to the top of rock-dance tastemakers' playlists last year. Jack White sings backing vocals on the track, but unlike The White Stripes' parochial purity, Electric Six's glammy, hammy energy sounds engaged with the more timely tides of rock's new wave, from the punk-disco odes of the New York production duo DFA to the mash-up style swirl commanded by 2 Many DJ's. Beginning in a high gear that rarely dips below the red line, Fire bursts out of the gate with "Dance Commander," a power-chord rave-up whose "it would be awesome if we could dance" supposition would qualify as a novelty stab if its delivery weren't so awesome. All of Electric Six's songs tilt toward comedy–"Electric Demons In Love," "Naked Pictures (Of Your Mother)," "Gay Bar"–but they're funny without making laughs their main objective. Frontman Dick Valentine lurches between Captain Beefheart growls and campy sleaze worthy of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but he preens on his own terms with a monstrous presence that slinks over wiggly grooves and measured bombast. Recognizing the importance of a good rhythm section, Electric Six outfits its garage with disco balls and coats the dancefloor with grease spills: "She's White" is a fist-pumping rock ode just shy of Tenacious D and Andrew W.K., while "Improper Dancing" slithers toward early-'80s club music with frantic hi-hats and sneaky synthesizers. To a certain extent, Fire sounds like a joke, but a pointed one that approaches rock less as a conceit than as a directive, something to drag into its cultural surroundings rather than a trope to fall back on.