Formed in 1996, the Lucky Bishops were something of an anomaly in the Britpop era: the quartet of Luke Adams, Rich Murphy, Tom Hughes and Al Strawbridge came not from one of the urban centers of cool Britannia but from rural Dorset in the West Country. Their hook-laden blend of power-pop and neo-psychedelia paid close attention to the unfashionable concept of musicianship and showed an unfashionable range of influences that looked beyond the often homogeneous and parochial sounds of the time. And rather than having one frontman, each bandmember, even the drummer, took turns singing lead.

Having signed to Ade Shaw and Nick Saloman's Woronzow label, the group released its debut album in early 2000. The Lucky Bishops is an eclectic, self-assured record that displays great potential. To some degree, the Bishops' sound is typical of the period, recycling many Britpop generation influences: "Casanova" has a glam flavor, "I'm Convinced" is Beatlesque, and anthemic tracks like "Stratosphere" have a late-'70s new wave feel (XTC being another reference point). But while showing a strong retro sensibility, the Bishops set themselves apart by using their influences as a creative springboard for a sound decisively their own. Credit the prominent keyboards (especially Hughes' Hammond), a de-emphasis on guitars and the integration of varied secondary instruments (flute, xylophone, trumpet, violin, cello et al.). Indeed, the Lucky Bishops' diverse, often slightly eccentric, sound is more adventurous than many of their peers' and reveals several eccentric inspirations. The bouncy "She's Gone" gestures toward the Move and the Zombies; an interest in prog rock (think early Yes) comes through in the disciplined attention to shifting keys and time signatures ("Bad Time"); and a penchant for multi-part harmonies makes consistent allusion to the Beach Boys.

Named after the Dorset town where the band lived in a picturesque thatched cottage (until it collapsed), Grimstone is a solid follow-up. It's less instrumentally diverse than the debut — tighter and more focused — with chart potential in the anthemic "You Come Alive" and the piano-based ballad "In Everything I Saw" (which pays homage to Squeeze). Nevertheless, the band stays on familiar ground, further developing its own quirky dialect within the psych-pop idiom. Retro keyboards remain a crucial ingredient, most memorably on "Strange Times," which echoes the Nice's earliest pop-orientation, and "Pigeon," in the vein of Barrett-era Floyd. With harmonies and horn flourishes, "Napoleon" recalls classic West Coast sunshine pop.

Time changes occur throughout the record, most effectively on the jerky choruses of "Rock Stars." Guitars figure more prominently on Grimstone and the band rocks harder than before, particularly on the charging "Doppleganger." A minor difference between Grimstone and the first album is the lyrical content. The upbeat music on the debut belied a spiky attitude; for Grimstone they seem to have mellowed somewhat, notwithstanding songs with titles like "I Hate This Town" and "Life in Hell."

The aphoristic semantics of the title Unexpect the Expected is enough to induce brainache. The music, thankfully, is a different story. Despite a four-year gap between records, the Lucky Bishops pick up pretty much where Grimstone left off, administering another dose of Southwest Coast psychedelia, bursting with tunes and bustling with manic energy. Unexpect the Expected continues the idiosyncratic '60s and '70s pop whimsy: numbers like "The Pilot's Gone" and "St. Ives" encapsulate the band's weirdly compelling style as angular hyperactive rhythms vie with the calm simplicity of fluid vocal harmonies. The darker side of early Floyd still resonates on the ominous, monochromatic "Witches," but the Bishops are at their best in glorious Technicolor. "No Worries" jogs along with a bright, Byrdsy jangle and glammy summertime riffs punctuate "I Must Destroy My Brain" — a shambling anti-conformity sing-along ("before you go insane / you must destroy your brain") recalling the Kinks and the Small Faces. Opening new avenues, "The Leaves" shows the Bishops can rock even in standard, uncomplicated time signatures, while "Cake and the Crumbs" incorporates subtle tango rhythms and hints of bossa nova. Also in a Latin vein, the oddball "Guía de Conversación" ("Conversation Guide") introduces George Formby to Mungo Jerry, with a little Hawaiian-style twang; the lyrics, in Spanish, offer a selection of highly useful phrasebook chestnuts such as "no me gusta este color" ("I don't like this color"), "me gusta este cenicero" ("I like this ashtray") and "he sido víctima de una estafa" ("I have been the victim of a scam").

THE LUCKY BISHOPS – UNEXPECT THE EXPECTED

( Camera Obscura , PO Box 5069 BURNLEY VIC 3121 Australia )

     The Bishops emerged from a haunted, rat-infested cottage on the English Channel in Weymouth, Dorsetshire at the turn of the century, armed with a pair of well-received albums on Woronzow, following on from a couple of self-released cassettes. After a couple of visits to Terrastock, SXSW, and famed punk club-cum-toilet CBGB's in NYC, the band retreated to a self-imposed exile back in Dorset and were ne'er heard from again to the point where fans, including yours truly, thought they had gone off in search of that great lost chord in the sky. Their website, run by guitarist Rich Murphy's big sis, Sue, remained dormant for three years, until the band re-emerged into the daylight with Marco Rossi in tow as part of his excellent pop/psych combo, Cheese, whose inappropriately-titled album on Pink Hedgehog was one of last year's undiscovered gems. Word also snuck out that the band and Rossi could also be seen and heard masquerading behind the intriguingly-named Gothic Chicken, often performing psychedelic cover versions of songs from the collective catalogues of The Kinks, Association, Zombies and Four Seasons!

     So it was with much surprise and eager anticipation that I opened up my mailbox last week to find their third album (first in four years) tucked inside, bearing a multi-paneled booklet that enables the listener to create one of four different album covers featuring a little voodoo dolly (each representing a different band member), an idea possibly borrowed from The Church's similar cover artwork on their covers album, ‘Box of Birds.' Their experience with Rossi served the band well, as ‘Unexpect the Expected' is brimming with more of a pop sheen than their decidedly proggy earlier efforts. Another element they seem to have picked up from Rossi is the influence of Todd Rundgren on their songwriting and arranging. For example, I hear Runt's skittish and giddy pop sensibilities all over opener ‘Out of the Hole' and the infectious ‘I Must Destroy My Brain,' which, as a suggested cure for insomnia, I encourage listeners not to try at home! However, they have retained their trademark impeccable harmonies and continue to surprise with frenetic left turns like the country hoedown, “The Pilot's Gone,” the creepy-crawly, brooding Halloween song, “Witches,” or the pure pop confection of the bunny-hoppin' tango, “Cake and the Crumbs” – nice name for band, that!

     Keyboardist Tom Hughes grabs caution by the bollocks and tosses it to the four winds with the vaudevillian pop of his Spanish-language ‘Guia de Conversacion,' which stumbles through non-sequitor phrases such as “Could they send the package to me at the hotel?,” “I like this ashtray in embossed leather,” and “I am the victim of a swindle” that he recently confessed he found in “possibly the worst phrasebook I've ever owned: It was actually a Spanish to English phrasebook which I bought a few years ago….I took [it] to Spain last time I went and lots of Spanish people found it as funny as me….”

     But the predominant feeling I had while listening to the album was one of déjà vu, as if I was listening to a long-lost Olivia Tremor Control album, possibly the concluding chapter in their trilogy begun with ‘Dusk At Cubist Castle' and continued on ‘Black Foliage' before they abruptly disbanded. There's the same skewed Beatles-meets-Beach Boys melodies and harmonies, with liberal doses of ecstacy (XTC) and Robyn Hitchcock tossed in for good measure. In fact, the sedate-yet-magisterial mini pop opera ‘London Lounge' bests anything I've heard from the venerable Mr. Wilson in the three-and-a-half decades since he delivered ‘Surf's Up.'

     And while you may be able to take the boys' arrangements out of prog, you can't really take prog out of the boys, as evidenced by the swelling, multi-part suite ‘K2,' which is full of harmonies that rival Queen, expansive chord structures that would make Keith Emerson drool, Luke Adams' headpounding drumming rivaling Moonie's and antaganastic melody lines that suggest Yes somersaulting with Gong. And, saving the best for last, the Simon & Garfunkle-ish folk rock of closer ‘No Worries' may just be the band's single most exceptional creation in their entire catalogue. So while this kitchen sink approach may turn off the conservative listener who prefers their music to be laid out in a more linear fashion, the Bishops' varied approach, which sees all four members contributing songs and lead vocals, will reward the more adventurous listener. ( Jeff Penczak )