The Polyphonic Spree are the brainchild of the wonderfully-named Tim DeLaughter, an eccentric Texan who fooled around in various rock bands until deciding that the things he needed to express required something just a little more unconventional. Clearly this is a man who doesn't do things by halves his new project has 24 members of various ages, all of whom seem to permanently live in flowing white robes. Their debut album, meanwhile, is a head-spinningly strange collection of choral, symphonic music, with plenty of evangelical preaching and soaring melodies thrown in for good measure. While individual singers have a fragile quality that's oddly reminiscent of Mercury Rev, strings, drums and bass add some much-needed musical muscle to the mix. Intriguing as it all is, you feel that it would work a lot better live - the Polyphonic Spree's gospel singalongs sound like they need to be experienced as much as heard. And the decision to close the album with a 30-minute track comprised of nothing but droning synthesiser is a joke that really should have been strangled at birth. Full marks for originality - but for now the Spree are more impressive as an imaginative concept than as a fully-fledged band.
