From Bella Union, home of Dirty Three, comes this label debut from the Czars, produced by Cocteau Twin Simon Raymonde, and featuring backing vocals from Tarnation's Paula Fraser. Given this pedigree, then, Before . . . But Longer's blithely traditional songwriting - think American AM-radio, or a non-politicised Jackson Browne - and solid but uninspiring production are a disappointing surprise.

John William Grant has a fine, folky-sweet voice, half-Don MacLean, half-yer man out of Semisonic; but his lyrics - simple as bread, with a peculiarly Midwestern, point-blank quality - don't give it much to say. His decent, plain-spoken sentiments can occasionally be charming enough; but rather a lot of Before . . . is so down-to-earth it's unmemorable, like a very nice acquaintance whose name you can't recall.

'Concentrate' sweet and meandery, is the Trash Can Sinatras complicated by vertiginous spirals of piano; and the quietly insistent 'Pressure' suspends Fraser's gorgeous soft choruses over pleasantly odd keyboard noises.

Their second album, Before . . . But Longer nevertheless has an amateurish, finding-one's-feet quality, so there may yet be a Russian revolution in store. But for now, the Czars remain 'artless,' in the dual sense: they are plain, honest and true, and their music hasn't enough complexity, ego or imagination to make it essential listening.