Brakes

Fronted by Eamon Hamilton of the ragged and mysterious (but a bit more poppy these days) British Sea Power and fleshed out by members of the Electric Soft Parade and Tenderfoot, Brakes isn’t quite an English supergroup — but it’s definitely more than the sum of its Brighton-spawned parts. Hamilton’s slinky voice, sounding something like Bryan Ferry wedged into Wayne Coyne’s throat, shines on this analog-recorded album of playful, energetic tunes that deftly cross the borders between punk, glam, pop and — most impressively — country. “NY Pie” and the delightful “Jackson” get as close to Americana as any British indie band has since Fairport Convention (which, considering the many sore spots between America and Europe, is sweet enough to wring a tear out of any cynical, Bush-hating eye). But for the most part, it’s a frivolous recording, with plenty of crisp, joyous beats and laugh-out-loud moments, such as on “Heard About Your Band.” On that cranky diatribe against rock pretentiousness, Hamilton yelps, I heard about your band/I couldn’t help it, you were screaming in my ear/Coked-up arsehole. And the “Virginia Plain”-like opener, “Ring a Ding Ding,” introduces the droopy, indie landscape to the aphrodisiac effects of “monkey macaroni.”