Oh, for the day when every all-female group could sound so confident, exploratory – so un-macho. Are you sure these women from Brighton, England, aren't called Estrogenlane, not Electrelane? I thought not.

Gentle and unassuming as it puts across a modest yet oh-so-impressive range of ideas, The Power Out, the quartet's second album and follow-up to Rock It to the Moon (Mr. Lady), seems to borrow freely from the band's Too Pure kindred, like a girlie storming of a dormmate's closet. Let's try Laetitia Sadier's Gallic vocalizations on the early- and slow-rising opening track, "Gone under Sea." Test out a jittery Quickspace/Th' Faith Healers bounce – with birdcall "cuckoo" 's and skipping rhythm section – on "On Parade." Then the angelic choir kicks in on "The Valleys," just barely skimming the bobbing organ and bass lines, and you know you're dealing with no ordinary ransackers.

For Electrelane, powering into view and playing off the input plugs of the title, there's a whole lotta electricity in the quiet, the humble, and the judiciously plucked and placed Velvets-lined guitar note. Cool? Standoffish? Rejecting the rock-centric language of the oppressor? Perhaps, but better yet, you forget the politics and end up believing it's really just all about white space – and barefaced vocals veering out of tune – on such songs as "Birds" and "Oh Somba!," just as it's all about the occasional rockabilly rave-up on numbers like "Take the Bit Between Your Teeth" and "Enter Laughing." Electrelane realized long ago that it's easier to make art with honey rather than rancor – more power out to them. Electrelane play April 8, Bottom of the Hill, S.F. (415) 621-4455. (Kimberly Chun)

Fly
Fly (Savoy Jazz)

Maybe it's the vaguely socialistic leanings of the jazz intelligentsia that has made the myth of the leaderless trio so persistent over the last 40 years. I've rarely found these claims of equality as convincing as I do with Fly, a newly formed ensemble with tenor saxophonist Mark Turner, bassist Larry Grenadier, and drummer Jeff Ballard.

Ballard's suggestion that this group functions "like gears instead of layers" describes the trio's most satisfying musical element. Leaderless is not to be confused with formless. If anything, there's more attention to the nuance of form here than on many contemporary jazz recordings. Rather than a standard head-solo-head format, the songs blend two or three distinct sections together, placing more emphasis on the movement between structured passages than on soloists blowing over them. There are a lot of moments when, taken in isolation, the three seem to be spinning in entirely different directions, but the disparate parts somehow end up meshing rhythmically and harmonically in a way that feels precisely right.

Ballard and Grenadier each contribute three songs (an auspicious introduction to composing for both), Turner one, and they collaborate on another. Grenadier's work is deep and rich – from the somber lilt of "State of the Union" ("A simple love song for complex times," he calls it) to the polyrhythmic hop of "JJ" (a nod to funk session bassist Jerry Jemmott) to the abstraction of "Emergence/Resurgence." Turner plays tastefully and with great economy – part of why you're left feeling there's more to come. Even on the extended tracks "Fly Mr. Freakjar" and Reid Anderson's "Todas las cosas se van" there's room for more. Grenadier appears with the Brad Mehldau Trio, and Turner with his quartet, as part of the SFJazz Spring Season. Hopefully the trio will team up and perform here as well. (Bruce Wallace)

Beanfield
Seek (Compost)

I guess I'm supposed to be excited by the fact that Beanfield has forgone samples for this album, but I'm having a hard time working up much enthusiasm. The days when electronic music was solely made up of snippets of other people's music are long gone – though many tunes for the dance floor still rely on samples, much of the music that aims for life beyond the club is created from scratch. What does have me amped is the slamming yet smooth electric soul Seek offers.

Beanfield – now Jan Krause and Michael Mettke after the departure of original member Tobi Meggle – helped solidify Compost Records' enviable reputation for quality electronic music that was much more than dance tracks. Nonetheless, they had a serious club hit in the form of 2000's "Season." The song featured the sassy, stylized vocals of Bajka, who returns for several tracks on Seek that are among the album's best. On "Home" Bajka's way of bending words to the chords, when paired with the subtly broken beat and banging grand piano, is majestic, moving, and thoroughly funky. The other vocal tracks are similarly impressive, from Ernesto's soulful croon over pizzicato strings on "Chosen" to Marzenka's breathy and mostly wordless singing on the driving, techy "Welcome." Mettke, who played keys on Trüby Trio's and Fauna Flash's last albums, does a sleek job of supporting the voices with his restrained playing.