Capsul is the sixth album from Flying Nun's New York-based Bailterspace. It's also their most radical reworking of a musical formula that has earned them accolades and fans the world over. Somewhere along the way, rock has been incorporated into the sound but no compromise has been made for it -- Bailterspace plot their own path as always, and Capsul is the most forthright statement of their art yet.

Last album Wammo saw the band step off into brighter territory but its key ingredient still sounded like the traditional Bailterspace method of hammering one enormous riff into a song with some astute sonic texturing. Capsul, with 14 tunes spread over the best part of an hour, offers not only far more Bailterspace-per-album than any other record but gives the trio the chance to break from that approach which often saw elements like guitar and vocals smoothed into a seamless sound.

Through the shimmering outre-rock of "Shield", clamourous "Pass It Up", and "So La", Capsul opens with the familiar sound of drop-heavy Bailterspace riff-thunder, but throws distinctly expressive singing from Alister Parker and mixes in notable touches like "So La"s tidy little guitar figure. By the time you've encountered an eastern flavour to the gloriously poppy "Dome" these assured new arrangements are taking hold through intricately blended guitar sounds and what practically passes as vocal gymnastics from the previously mumble-happy Parker.

And if "Capsule", "Tag" and "Collider" make for a sweet ride into the middle of the album, it's only in order for Capsul to take another turn in the form of the stunning "Velo", where Parker's attitudinal vocals hit a dirty rock song full-on and it reminds us that this band is the Gordons transplanted into New York. Further on, the raw experimental side of Bailterspace shows up in "Picking Up", a squall of feedback and sinister otherworldly voices before the soothing appearance of "Argonaut", a highlight of recent NZ live shows and a recent import 7" which here appears in full form -- seven heavenly minutes of free-floating atmospherics atop drummer Brent McLachlan's star turn with the brushes.

More mellifluous guitar washes through the hypnotic "II", extending "Argonaut"'s spell for five more minutes before another abrupt blast appears in the almost-comic riffery of "The Sun". "Shades", sung by bassist John Halvorsen, and "GA9" close the album on what appears to be a positive note -- although for all the clarity of the musical ideas here, Bailterspace remain as wonderfully obtuse as ever in the lyric department.

What makes Bailterspace unique? Well, no other major band has made the transition from the New Zealand scene to survival in the musical rat race of New York. Few bands seem to have the creative resources to last five albums. And no-one sounds like them.

If sounding unique has allowed Bailterspace to stay on top of their game for so long, it has also made it hard to box them conveniently into any fashionable flavour of musical genre. But far from acting like perennial outsiders, Bailterspace have constantly evolved through the musical maelstrom of their own making.