With pop music moving faster than ever, one band are following the old adage of the tortoise and the hare. Broadcast released their first singles in 1996, but it was another four years before they unleashed their debut album, the acclaimed The Noise Made by People. Another three years later, the band are about to come back with another EP, Pendulum, and, eschewing the current trend of firing off albums straight after singles, their second album, Hahasound, won't amble from the pressing plants until August.

The advantage of this approach is that Broadcast have been able to craft a sound - an amalgam of eerie keyboards, angular guitars, quasi-military percussion and Trish Keenan's siren-like vocals - that exists entirely apart from anything around.

Although Broadcast have found an audience of the sort of people who carry record bags, and are signed to trendy dance label Warp, their 1960s influence is considerable. Live, as their projections and light patterns combine to create a psychedelic atmosphere, they create the feel of swinging London. Meanwhile, the raven-haired Keenan's Mary Quant fringe now descends so far over her eyes she may soon require a guide dog.

The desired end is hypnotism, and the band's swirling melodies and urgent grooves combine to produce an eerie, almost drunken reverie. Keenan's stark vocals sound simultaneously traumatised and childlike, blurring the lines between playground songs and cinematic horror. Her lyrics are essays on loneliness and the difficulty of interacting with the madding crowd, probably a fair summation of their relationship with pop.

Nothing much happens at a Broadcast gig - they don't even address the audience beyond "Thank you, goodnight" - but it doesn't need to. The surprisingly catchy Come On Let's Go aside, these are songs to lose yourself in and submit to, and the hypnosis is fractured only by the occasional unfortunate jazzy doodle.

However, this performance is not quite the triumph that some Broadcast appearances have been, perhaps because of the gaps in the audience. The trouble with disappearing for three years is that people forget you. With pop now more compartmentalised than ever, Broadcast sound even more esoteric. This may hinder their commercial prospects, but is a definite plus if you want something different.

· At ULU, London WC1 (020-7664 2030) tonight, then touring.