In a corner of the world where twangy, southern-fried ballads are nauseatingly prevalent, female-fronted Analog Missionary look beyond the invading country-western masses to contribute a refreshing, ambient musical perspective.

            A classic beauty, auburn-haired Anstrom serenades audiences with her soothing, placid vocals. The remaining band members, including guitarist Kevin Kaiser as well as Mark and Tony Novak on drums and bass/keyboards, respectively, accompany Anstrom’s hypnotic voice qualities with a complementary seasoning of mellow rock.

            Analog Missionary’s 2002 release, Transmitter, has earned the quartet substantial critical praise.

            Transmitter commences with “Lilith”, a docile track that first introduces Anstrom’s pleasant, whispering vocals. Although her range isn’t particularly taxed, the quiet lack of a traditional melody proves positively effective as its tide of methodic drumming recedes and transitions to the second number, “Chaser”.

            With guitars and accent keyboards resembling hushed Smashing Pumpkins in nature, this second tune subtly affords strength and complexity to the disc. The peak of its energy is equivalent to radio-relevant modern rock; this allows for the beginning portion of the album to maintain its serenity as well as provide a welcoming security blanket to the general American listener by encompassing rock overtones.

            The only drawback the third song presents is its length. “This (can’t be happening)”, along with its predecessor and several others on the album, although fundamentally creative, possesses the capacity to lull the listener into an irreversible trance.

            A later proponent to the album’s many experimental and emotional facets, the sixth track provides a certain twinge of mysterious darkness to the disc. Clocking in at nearly nine minutes, “Dirty Road” fixates the beholder’s interest through picturesque beauty and instrumental features that showcase the musicians’ apparent talents.

            This song’s subsequent albummate, “Interference”, employs calm arpeggios and a six-eight time signature, finally escalating for a few precious moments to its maximum potential. Anstrom, finally permitted to unleash her vocal power, bares her soul for these particular moments, eventually diminishing to her calm crooning once again.

            The following few tracks proceed with muted fanfare, each serving its duty as a vital component of the album’s anatomy.

            “Sundering Seas”, the final song appearing on the disc, makes its presence recognized as an especially punctuating farewell. Serving as Transmitter’s undeniable thesis statement, it compresses several elements present on the disc and vividly flaunts them in order to provide the listener a melodic summary. Ambience at its pinnacle, “Sundering Seas” concludes and exposes the core of Analog Missionary’s, well, mission.

            A thoroughly satisfying album, Transmitter presents modern music with a tasteful, glorious alternative to the excess of original mainstream acts. Impressive! 8/10