Though the album's warm, inviting washes of colored tones and percussion aren't light years away from their debut, they certainly please on all levels, and Eoin and Sandison's love of film is again apparent. (Their name is derived from the bucolic 1970s-era documentaries of the National Film Board of Canada.) Over the record's sprawling 65-minute(!) span, the longer, "song"-structured tracks like "Alpha and Omega" and "1969," or the depth-charges of "You Could Feel The Sky," are peppered with little voiceovers (check out the vintage canned Leslie Nielsen discussing volcanoes on "Dandelion") and blurred snapshots ("Diving Station"). This setup creates shifts in mood that make the album sound more like a film score than something you'd hear in dance club chill-out rooms. The natural tangibility of their sound thankfully remains--feeding original source recordings through old tape recorders, analog synthesizers and other vintage gear. And it's this lack of complete submission to cold computers--by retaining central human elements--that makes them so accessible to electronica neophytes, and so gigantic on the blissed-out landscape. Essential.