Yet the album hints in the direction of the fabled lost city that was the '60s, where British birds on Vespa scooters buzzed past Italian cowboys lounging at sidewalk cafes. Or they may also bring to mind groups that raid the musical thrift store for inspiration. But Broadcast don't look back to escape invention. Somewhere between Keenan's incantations and the group's deft meshing of synthesized sounds and live instrumentation the comparisons become irrelevant. Keyboardist Roj Stevens, bolstered by bassist James Cargill, guitarist Tim Felton and alternating drummers Keith York and Steve Perkins, uses his instruments to conjure tolling bells, muffled French horns, booming bass drums, ailing theremins and tangled wind chimes.
Broadcast manipulate their equipment to give the music the rangy pulse of jazz.
It's electronic, but not shot full of skittering beats. The extra charge comes from the girl out front. Since finding a mirror in words some of us have lost heart. And if you follow her voice where it beckons, she seems to hint, you won't be lured into afterparties, you'll be left stranded on some imaginary moors, bewitched right out of the '60s, right out of time. All rights reserved.