Voyager One is that rare band that's as cool as their influences. Their music betray obvious hints of My Bloody Valentine, Medicine, early-to-mid-'80s Cure, Echo and the Bunnymen and David Sylvian, but none of these is necessarily favored or imitated; Voyager One examines the energy from all of those sources, learns from it, and then builds upon it. Take their cover of the Echo classic "Bedbugs and Ballyhoo" -- unlike many artists, who need a gimmick and decide to cover a tune completely out of their league and contrary to their sound, then fill it full of kitsch, these guys breath new life into the tune without insulting the masters or those who revere their work.

However, a disc with a nerdy, Saturday Afternoon Japanese creature feature title like Monster Zero has some seriously large shoes to fill. There had better be fear, uncertainty, sonic booms, entire towns leveled, buildings crumbling to dust, green dragons -- well, you get the point. Luckily, Voyager One don't disappoint. This music lives in a realm of smoke and fog that suspends time, full of anticipation for something that has either passed or is lurking on a twilit horizon. It is the immediate aftermath of an A-bomb -- everyone laying low, awaiting the next attack. Indeed, the disc's landscape is designed to keep listeners wondering why it's so calm...and all the while, nameless mutated things are gurgling in the depths, waiting to pounce when they're least expected.

The music is a cohesive mix acoustic and electronic drums, Lanois-style guitar soundscapes, chugging repeated bass patterns and often secretive vocals, buried beneath an Atlantic Ocean of reverb that further enhances the intrigue. The disc's opener, "Out in the Marketplace", begins the ceremony with military snare, gentle washes of synth and guitar and vocal samples that sound as if they were sampled from an air raid warning training film. The next few tracks march slowly up an incline, never falling back, but not quite revealing where we're going. However, one minute and six seconds into "Ready. Reset", the creature comes back, and Voyager One delivers the wallop they've quietly developed in their secret lab -- a grand, rocking climax that sustains a noisy, industrial, trumpet-laden ride until the afterglow of the closing tracks, "Praise the Lowered" and "Tokyoidaho".

It's quite a journey, and much of the credit goes to brilliant track sequencing; no subtractions seem justifiable, no additions seem necessary. Voyager One have done a perfect job.