Tindersticks' last two albums lay somewhere amid the seductive thrill of an early James Bond film score, the enigmatic fragility of Leonard Cohen, the velvet romanticism of Neil Diamond and the graceful defeatism of Joy Division. But like the six-piece band's much-publicized penchant for fine, tailored suits, its music also seemed custom-made – sized, cut and stitched for listeners bored with simplistic, three-chord indie rock.

In Tindersticks tradition, their third U.S. release (which follows 12 singles and two other European LPs) sounds like the soundtrack to an underrated film from the '60s or a cool '90s art-house movie yet to be made. The orchestral moodiness of the band and the smoky-blue vocals of Stuart Staples intermingle like two sleepy dancers on a dilapidated ballroom's dance floor. His quavering baritone glides atop the bravado of Latin-style trumpet, sweeping violin arrangements, classical then loungy piano and shimmery organ effects. The result is a stunning blend of smooth beauty and crafted campiness.

Staples' lyrics focus mainly on love, from self-explanatory songs like "Desperate Man" to the romantic interlude of "fucking in the bathroom" in Rented Rooms." "A Marriage Made in Heaven," a duet with actress Isabella Rossellini, capitalizes on Staples' sense of humor: He sings, "She fell in love with my singing," and she answers, "When we fell in love, I was acting." The sharp brilliance of the horn section offsets Staples' contemplative croons, while other disparate instrumentation – from accordion to xylophone to programmed samba beats to guitar feedback – add colorful and unique edges to nearly every song.

This hour-plus album does drag in a few spots where songs get lost in their own melodrama, and Staples could come off as pretentious if his tragically overblown delivery and lyrics are taken too seriously. But Curtains is a carefully balanced album, tailor-made for the space that exists between the dizzying rush of romanticism and the comic letdown of reality. (RS 767)

LORRAINE ALI