Prize-winning Klaxons hit town

Heralded as the advance guard of the rave revival, the Klaxons of Manchester, England, arrived at the First Unitarian Church on Tuesday night riding a wave of ecstasy.

A year's worth of hype as only the British press can muster culminated in the Mercury Prize last month, when the band's Myths of the Near Future beat out the widely favored British retro-soul singer Amy Winehouse.

But despite the few glow sticks tracing their way through the steamy air and the eponymous sirens scattered through their songs, the Klaxons sound less like the second coming of the Happy Mondays than kin to the recent wave of British guitar bands, including last year's Mercury winner, the Arctic Monkeys.

Riding tight funk beats crisscrossed by slashing guitar lines, the Klaxons' most effective tool is a unison falsetto they often deploy in the service of a wordless hook, with plenty of whoos and oo-ees to set a festive mood.

Their lyrics, when there were any, were an odd blend of dystopian science-fiction references and dance-floor utopianism. Taking its name from a Thomas Pynchon novel (the album also tips its hat to William Burroughs and J.G. Ballard), the song "Gravity's Rainbow" offered to take the crowd on a cosmic trip: "Come with me, I'll take you to infinity."

Clad in a flowing black shroud that looked like a cross between a druid's cowl and a chorister's surplice, bassist Jamie Reynolds seemed as if he might be preparing to conjure some ancient magic (or, to use the band's spelling, magick). But despite some energetic playing, the band's spell never quite took hold, as if they'd left out some crucial ingredient, perhaps one hastily disposed of in the customs queue. The Klaxons have built themselves a nice little spaceship, but they haven't found the fuel to make it fly.