Twizz Twangle, or Dan Eisenhandler as he's otherwise known, has been a welcome oddity in the Oxford music scene for over a decade now, originally with his seriously warped band Oh Susannah Joanna back in the 90s and now in his guise of wandering troubadour, a true cult star on the fringes of the local live scene. He's awfully prolific too, this being his third album in the past couple of years. Heading towards a more electronic sound, exploring the more oblique parts of synth-pop and ambient techno and drum&bass, it's his most normal work to date, but he's retained some of his vocal and lyrical eccentricity to remind us why he's such a one off and why any music scene needs people like him to stop them disappearing too far up their own backsides.

Few if any readers will remember early-80s weirdos Klaus Nomi (operatic fashion designer who worked with Bowie on his more arty projects) or Karel Fialka (seriously strange synth-pop experimenter) but they're the two closest comparisons I can think of when I hear Twizz Twangle wandering through an apparently random succession of Toytown drum&bass, rambling, Air-inspired vocoder pop or what, on `Will It Never Happen', sounds like a very primitive Soft Cell as heard through a semi-comatose acid trip.

There's not much here over the two and half minute mark, Twizz recognising when he's used an idea up, and at least half of it is instrumental, his trademark nervy, breathless vocals the sole reminder that it's him at all. Taken as a whole the album has the feel of a slightly confused eccentric, sometimes forgetting where he is, blissfully oblivious to the stares of the `normal' folk around him. Oddly appealing but for best effect, see him in all his live glory.

Sue Foreman