Much is made of Black Box Recorder's "parentage" -- and perhaps rightly so, given the pop credentials of members John Moore (the Jesus and Mary Chain and the underappreciated Expressway) and Luke Haines (Auteurs). However, it is vocalist Sarah Nixey who truly establishes the band's sound. The lush, multi-instrumental tunes bristle with elegant sixties-style pop flourishes, and Nixey's breathy, coquettish vocals float effortlessly along with them, seemingly good natured and cheerful...but there's something in her voice, almost undetectable but undeniably sinister. In the space of a second, Nixey can drop her childlike flirtiness, replacing it with a cold, calculated, clinical calm that's as vicious and unfeeling as it is sterile. Listen to the stark transition from verse to chorus on "England Made Me" for a prime example -- you can almost hear the emotion draining from Ms. Nixey as the song makes its jarring change. If the band's press is to be believed, their musical/vocal methodology is a metaphorical representation of the state of modern England. Whether that's true or not, they certainly create the right air of palpable menace in which to deliver their tales of depression, suicide, repression, murder, sex and boredom. If you spend enough time listening to England Made Me, its attitude seeps into you and you find yourself unwilling to "trust" your other music -- convinced, perhaps, that even the happiest songs have hidden layers of shame and degradation. And who knows...perhaps they do.