The sexy librarian, the saturnine professor inviting sweet young things in for Madeira, the nuclear physicist with the 'come up and see my warhead' smile...
Through their now-traditional Brian Wilson melodies there comes a gentle electronic chuckle - Tortoise's John McEntire engineered - yet it's distinctly less than the precise algebraic equation of its parts. The dippy Pierre Cardin burbling of 'Janet Jangle' and 'Go To Montecito' are on the nails-on-blackboard side of irritating, and while the loveliest songs - the sun-dancing 'Bach Ze', 'Cut The Dummy Loose' - lark prettily about on a bicycle with Robert Redford, there's not a flicker of emotional static.
It would be just as edifying looking at some tapestry, maybe a neatly thrown pot. And if you believe that any creative human endeavour performed well is a beautiful thing, then listen to Sean O'Hagan sighing, "This machine sounds like a song", on 'Amin'. Not so much a band as a generator, it's time The High Llamas threw a spanner in their works. Or else threw in this particular towel.
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