Guillemots, Shepherds Bush Empire, London

Here to preview their second album, Red, the band named after an obscure sea bird continue to beguile and baffle in equal measure. While it is birds of a feather that normally flock together, this more motley bunch find it hard to gel.

For their 2006 debut, Through the Windowpane, The Guillemots messed around with zany costumes and toy instruments. Not that this prevented the group led by Midlands classical prodigy Fyfe Dangerfield from adding enough ambition and passion to their occasionally whimsical piano-led pop that the album made the Mercury shortlist. Its follow-up promises more direct collaboration between him and his bandmates: Canadian jazz fan Aristazabal Hawkes, Brazilian thrash metal guitarist MC Lord Magrao and a drummer with form in both hard rock and Irish folk mainstays The Fureys.

From the first air-raid siren wail, they immediately come across as a more intense proposition. "Kriss Kross" has Dangerfield stage-front, his panicked vocals slashed by dramatic, Middle Eastern strings that would befit a Timbaland production. Forthcoming single "Get over It" is even more thrilling, their most direct three minutes to date, with Hawkes adding her own beat to the Dexys-soul-power-meets-Wizzard-glam-stomp mélange. The theme continues with the raunchy, Rick James-feel "Big Dog".

Greig Stewart's drums echo round the room, despite the occasional, more subtle, Afrobeat touches, while Hawkes's double bass pulses in the manner of a Roni Size drum and bass performance. Magrao's role is to dirty the sound with Sonic Youth-style abstract white noise. It is a powerful combination and when Norwegian oddball Ida Maria appears to sing on "Words", she for once appears cowed by the proceedings. Yet what might be a sweet ode to relationship misunderstanding is undermined by the two-piece brass section, normally an integral part of the sound, and their saccharine Kenny G gloss on soprano sax.

Dangerfield's hushed solo delivery of "We're Here" is followed by rousing versions of the achingly vulnerable "Annie, Let's Not Wait" and the more singalong "Trains to Brazil". A 10-minute take on "Sao Paulo" never loses focus, but then the group spoil things again when they encore with another Windowpane track, the mournful "Redwings". This slow burner fails to lift off, especially in the wake of such virtuosity. So after soaring at times, The Guillemots bring us back to earth with a jolt.