Semisonic has a not-so-subliminal message for romantics with a penchant for making mix tapes for their objects of desire: include "Singing in My Sleep." The song, from the band's sophomore release, Feeling Strangely Fine, is about a guy who falls madly in love with a girl (well, *presumably* a girl, considering frontman Dan Wilson is married to one), based on a compilation of seductive songs she made for him.

"A lot of things that you think of somebody aren't really easy to put into words and make it sound right," says Wilson, "but you can use a couple of songs that someone else made and really say it right. It's a new way of standing under the balcony trying to lure someone out of the bushes."

He's actually paraphrasing his own lyrics -- "I've been living in your cassette/It's the modern equivalent/Singing up to a Capulet/On a balcony in your mind." And though Wilson confesses he's a "terrible mix tape maker," mostly because of his gnat-like attention span, he certainly can't be accused of not understanding music's magnetic power. "I get distracted halfway through," he says. "I think of some unrelated but undeniably great piece of music, and then I lose the thread."

Hopeless romantic mixmeisters with paltry CD collections can load up on songs from Feeling Strangely Fine, a melt-in-your-mouth collection of instantly accessible pop songs. While Semisonic's 1996 debut, Great Divide, sounds like '70s rock with pop harmonies and the occasional twisted riff, its production doesn't have the sheen of Fine. The new record's first single, "Closing Time" -- written specifically because the band needed a show closer -- is now burning up the modern rock charts.

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'po' mouthing?'" asks Wilson rhetorically. "It's like pretending you have nothing when you have something." Without embellishing, it's obvious Wilson believes Semisonic has *something* but doesn't want to jinx it by flat out saying it.

For one thing, in addition to a sterling set of recorded material, he has a drummer who can walk, chew gum and whistle at the same time. In concert, Jacob Slichter miraculously manages to keep the beat on drums with one hand and use the other to provide carnival-like hooks on a Wurlitzer. "There are a lot of things in life that are beckoning all the time," Wilson says somewhat cryptically, "and for Jake to figure out pretty tangly ways to cover bases on these songs, it's pretty astonishing." Take that, Def Leppard.

In fact, Slichter, Wilson and bassist John Munson all take turns on instruments during the band's live show, perhaps a hint that maybe the group needs a fourth member. Yeah, right. "It would be one more guy to argue with and figure out what roadside we're gonna stop at," laughs Wilson.

BLAIR R. FISCHER