The Frontier Brothers are a study in contradictions. Marshall Galactic, Travis Newman, and Brett Moses are not brothers, of course, and although their base in Austin, TX, and the “frontier” part of their name might suggest an alternative country sound, it’s really the Star Trek line “space: the final frontier” they had in mind; they are more in the tradition of their neighbors, Oklahoma’s Flaming Lips, and Texas’ own Legendary Stardust Cowboy in their cosmic take on the Western motif. (Like Sun Ra, they claim to have been “born in space,” as their press bio puts it, and only “raised in Texas.”) Musically, the contradiction comes out in the dichotomy between the music and the vocals. This is a guitar/keyboards/drums trio in which Moses’ piano is really the dominant instrument, leading to fairly sophisticated pop/rock arrangements reminiscent of Ben Folds, with the occasional horn or stringed instrument added for a bit more pop gloss. But Galactic’s hoarse, strangulated vocals make him sound like he should be fronting a punk rock outfit, as he gasps for breath and breaks into falsetto while emotionally proclaiming lyrics that include a statement of love for a robot. Of course, it’s these various apparent contradictions that make the Frontier Brothers distinctive, and after a couple of years of playing a hundred or so gigs a year, they are as tight and forceful as they are eccentric on this, their first full-length album (which repeats tracks from an earlier EP). – William Ruhlmann