This album feels like floating in space, contemplating Earth and pondering about life.

Its spatial and spatious atmosphere is held together by Trish Keenan’s serene delivery. She always takes her time, never rushing for a word. The steady, sedative pace she gently lays down on the album makes for much of its cohesiveness.

I find it refreshing and curiously satisfying to have a vocalist adopt a tranquil pace and stick to it for the whole record.

First of all, it’s an invitation to mimic the slow breathing, to wind down. The song “Cemeteries” by Avey Tare makes me feel just like this.

Second, it’s an opportunity to relish the sound of the language. I love Trish Keenan’s mild accent, and as such it’s a pleasure to listen to her unhurriedly form and morph phonemes, bring life to her words. Her articulate enunciation suits her lyrics to perfection.

And with all this, Trish’s voice never falls to monotony, thanks to the melody, the occasional flourishes, and the periodic high notes (as in the song “We’ve Got Time”), the latter revealing the more fragile side of her voice, in that respect similar to that of contemporary singer Jenny Hval – who also happens to be a Broadcast fan.

Speaking of curiosities in her singing, it’s impossible not to mention the final track, “Lights Out”. It took me several listens before the motherly lull of her humming during the bridge suddenly stood out to me. It is set against the backdrop of sonic debris floating around, and the combination is quite bewildering, surreal. It brings to mind forgotten memories of early childhood; recollections of another life. The brevity and singularity of the passage hints at a momentary lapse of reason, a reverie, which makes the section stick out even more.

Once again, Trish Keenan and her band definitely managed to make it work.