Broadcast HAHA SOUND (Warp)

Like their æsthetic peers (and former record-label bosses) Stereolab, English brainiacs Broadcast have extracted a series of sonically compelling albums and singles from a collection of antique keyboards that Yes organist Rick Wakeman would envy. But whereas Stereolab use those rarefied tones to craft tunes best heard while lounging listlessly around zero-gravity space-age bachelor pads, Broadcast’s creaky, creepy synth-pop attempts to say something about the unnerving frontier between man and machine. Something vague, if you pay attention to the words frontwoman Trish Keenan sings with such elusive beauty. "Logic offers no defense underneath this influence," she intones coolly over a hard krautrock groove in "Pendulum," "while this puzzle of intent holds emotion in suspense."

But zero in on the racket Keenan’s bandmates make — carefully structured, yet with a looseness and a tilt toward noise that gives it real juice — and you’ll catch all sorts of suggestions of that friction. Like the way the ambient fuzz in "Man Is Not a Bird" keeps trying to choke James Cargill’s bouncy bass line, or the automated harpsichord trickles in "Lunch Hour Pops," or the factory-funk clatter in the tambourine part of "Ominous Cloud." Coming from a scene known for its design fetish, Broadcast nonetheless sound as if they weren’t quite in control of where their songs are heading. And that’s an accomplishment in itself.