The enigmatic Beta Band wandered out from the northern hills of Scotland with a satchel of kooky costumes and barnyard grooves. Sometimes wearing crazy costumes, the Beta Band craft folk- influenced, psychedelic funk music, which has the immediate American reference point of Beck (if only for the fact that they dress like cowboys and astronauts and blend acoustic roots with deep- bass jams). But to lump the Beta Band in with the dismal crop of those Silverlake "fusion" groups that cut n' paste hip-hop with unplugged pop and pop- culture samples would be extremely hasty and unfair.

The Beta Band are a far cry from pop music structures and radio cliches. A few songs from The Three EPs collection bear more resemblance to recent Primal Scream, albeit a more sylvan, lackadaisical Primal Scream. But really, the only pigeonholes you can mention in regards to the Beta Band would be holes pecked by actual pigeons in their country- cabin studio. This is a band that can chant in Gregorian echoes over toy- piano loops, DJ Shadow- style drumbeats, and guitar wash on "Dr. Baker" without somehow sounding "artsy."

"I Know" builds a lazy guitar melody over a spurs- and- pocket- change jangle and a turtle- speed bass- line that sounds so low- tuned that the strings could wobble off the neck. This flows smoothly into "B+A," a subtle desert guitar and drum- loop haze that climaxes with splashing cymbals and handclaps. These two tracks best demonstrate the buzz- generation power of the Beta Band. Unlike most electronic and rock artists that incorporate dance elements with harsh editing, the Beta Band take their time and let the songs slowly develop in quiet movements. Nothing is clenched or forced, or would ever work on a dancefloor.

Much of this has to do with the general air of bathtub- and- hall- closet- cropped narcotic influence that seeps from every swirling piano note and turntable- scratched tweet. Perhaps it's the effect of the morning Highland air that one can imagine drifting in frozen puffs from the mouths of the Beta Band with every breathy vocal, as they compose their songs in the ol' woodshed over a mug of tea.

But a moment comes on The Three EPs when the realization strikes you that there may be some greater power at work. It happens during the sprawling centerpiece, "Monolith," a haunted orgy of stream- of- consciousness psychedelia. The entire "song" sounds composed by ghosts. Mid-east market ambience mixes with bongos and birds while guitar- notes drip from the heavens.

Don't be fooled by the fact this album was issued by Astralwerks or that it boasts lots of turntable action. It's closer to the Beatles' "Revolution #9" than Bentley Rhythm Ace. If at times seeming too experimental, the Beta Band make up for whatever misfires with the raw fact that at least they're doing something different and exhilarating in this age of banality and been- there- done- that. They represent the thinning of the line between rural and urban in our age of connectivity. Throw 'em on at dawn and watch the sheep come in as you check your e-mail.

-Brent DiCrescenzo