Mathematically speaking, you’d expect that something that was eclectic would stretch further than something that was not, by the logical reasoning that there is more to go around, less cause to scrape the proverbial barrel. Wouldn’t you? Of course you would, although there is also the pitfall that perhaps you would be tempted, by the reasoning that there is indeed plenty to go around, to avoid unnecessarily digging deeper. And here lies both Fort Lauderdale’s strength and weakness. 14 tracks should be filled comfortably by their smart-Alec meddling in the ways of gentle 60s pop, traditional folk, electronic ambience, 50s balladerring, 70s rock frills, analogue, digital and so on. But it thins out a touch by track 10. It is on the other hand very pretty throughout and as we all know that only needs to go skin deep to ensure a favourable first impression.
In current terms they saunter somewhere amongst Simian, the Super Furries and the Beta Band, skewered leftfield pop with no sense of the necessity of good timekeeping or allegiance. Opening track ‘Insane Overdrive’ is like Steve Mason (Beta Band) and Euros Childs (Gorkys Zygotic Mynci) languishing at a pace dictated by themselves through an interpretation of Bowie’s 70s and is rather nice. ‘Best Days’ is like Status Quo’s ‘Pictures of Matchstick Men’ as done by Simon and Garfunkel on a psychedelic trip and is very pleasant. ‘Rock N Roll’ is Beck with his head out of Marc Bolan’s passenger window and is mildly thrilling. And so it goes on. They may look good, but they do overstate their enormity. They might be skating on thin ice for a second date, but we kinda like them.