Trans Am's albums have always worked around the concept of Man vs. Machine, with one or the other occasionally (though never permanently) prevailing. On Futureworld, the machines -- analog keyboards, vocorders and other retro-relics -- aren't necessarily winning, but they're holding the "organic" instruments in check with their more rigid performance aesthetic, resulting in a sound rather like what might have happened if Kraftwerk's ranks had swelled to include like-minded members of Black Sabbath. After the mournfully unrestrained sax on fin de siecle opener "1999", "Television Eyes" cuts loose with driving drums, a pulsating bassline, burblingly urgent new-wave melody and tense vocorder vocals. The overall effect is distinctly Punk Rock, albeit punk rock reached via an entirely different evolutionary staircase. Elsewhere, the title track chunters along nicely, energized by frenetic live drumming; when the guitars finally arrive, they strike with full force, but are held back -- just -- by an invisible sonic wall that warps and bulges under the strain, finally giving way to a false ending midway through the song. "City In Flames" creates an appropriately dystopian mood; if played at sufficient volume, its churning maelstrom of barely-restrained guitars will cause atmospheric disturbances in the area around your stereo speakers. Be wary, too, of the faux beats and lurking bassline of "Cocaine Computer" and the plinky percussion and sinister short-circuits that power "Positron". If all of our machines turn against us at the turn of the millennium, you can take some modest comfort in the fact that they won't mind if you listen to Futureworld.