The last time guitarist Dante DeCaro shared the stage with Hot Hot Heat was to play an encore jam of the Rolling Stones’ classic "You Can’t Always Get What You Want," closing the curtain on nearly two years of touring. It was a fitting farewell, if not a touch ironic.

DeCaro, who publicly announced his departure late last year from Canada’s premier pop new wavers, seemingly got everything any musician could want: A monstrously successful debut–with the UK in particular going crazy over their pseudo-Brit sound. Things were going well for Hot Hot Heat even by Mick Jagger standards. Strange DeCaro wanted out so badly. Even stranger it took him almost a year to finally go.

Just days after flying home from H3’s second British press tour–promoting their new record Elevator–singer and keyboardist Steve Bays, battling a flu, is apologetically inarticulate. He says he doesn’t have all the answers for DeCaro’s malaise, he is just glad to be moving on. Breakups tend to have that effect.

Dante’s out the door

"It was tough that he didn’t want to be in the band because we knew him for so long," says a fatigued Bays from his crib in Vancouver. "Dante was cross-fading from being in the band to not being in the band for over a year. It was a long, tough process.

"Dante didn’t like the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle, and he wasn’t into touring. It’s daunting at times. Right now, I’m not feeling too into it either."

Despite his imminent exit, DeCaro agreed to stay on and help write and record the follow-up to 2002’s Make Up the Breakdown. After cutting about 25 demos in DeCaro’s makeshift farmhouse studio, the Victoria natives hopped a jet to L.A. where they hooked up with producer Dave Sardy (the Walkmen, NIN, Red Hot Chili Peppers). After three months, amidst the neon lights, palm trees, and augmented sex organs of the locals, Bays, DeCaro, drummer Paul Hawley, and bassist Dustin Hawthorne tracked 15 songs that would eventually lift Elevator off the ground.

"I had to put a bit more thought into these songs because of Make Up’s success," recalls Bays about the often-arduous process of making a hit sequel. "At one point we had to start all over. We decided to forget about the direction of the record and just make sure the songs are exciting and have energy."

Elevator pushes more of the same enjoyably indulgent pop buttons Make Up the Breakdown thrived on, but with a less spastic jolt. Songs like "Island of an Honest Man" and "You Owe Me an IOU" hint at death disco-punk, as the band opts for more straightforward, layered melodies. Hawthorne keeps the dance-ability factor up high with his Gang of Four bass lines, while Bays’ knack for hooks catches your ear on "Goodnight Goodnight" and "Ladies and Gentleman." On a cautionary note, a Paul McCartney complex seems to have developed–Bays bellows behind a piano on songs like "Jingle Jangle" and the title track.

The Franz Killers

Pre-existing fans won’t find the record too incongruous, nor will it likely dissociate the Heat from the recent parade of skinny-tie bands who comb their hair over their eyes. This is a shame, because Hot Hot Heat does it so much better, without contrivance.

"It used to be hard for us to find supporting bands, it’s not a problem now," says a disconcerted Bays. "We were aware of the bands that came out after us when we recorded, and that’s partly why we wanted to go in a different direction on this record. We wanted it to have its own feel–just worry about having good songs. The Beatles and Stones came out of scenes, but they had good songs, and that’s what’s kept them around."

Maybe not in DeCaro’s case. Enter new player Luke Paquin. When word got out on the street that a vacancy sign was up, a mutual friend introduced Bays and the boys to Paquin at a Futureheads show, describing him as, "A guy who can play anything."

As it turned out, Paquin could mimic DeCaro’s rhythmic lucidity and provide the harmonic range needed to back-up Bays’ high-pitched vocal set. However, the real question pertinent in recruiting a new member was: can this guy party? "We hit off right away," recalls Bays. "I remember one night, when we first met him: we went over to his house, woke him up, threw some chords at him, then grabbed some more beer, and just partied with him ’til 4 am. It’s been a perfect fit."