When I learned that "Shoes With Blue Jeans" would be a list song of everything the Lemoras hate about modern life I was half expecting a Billy Joel-esque "We Didn't Start The Fire." I should have known they wouldn't let me down. The band manage to be charming, rather than annoying when they list many of the things that mar our enjoyment of life. There's a Glam-feel to this song. It prowls like a caged beast ready to strike. There's even a laugh-out loud moment, which I won't ruin for you by retelling it here. This song is not nihilism. The band are specific in their targets, before concluding: 'It's the small things that gnaw away.'

I fell in love with "Good Morning Midnight" when I heard it played live. It's a melancholy wander by the Seine, with Paris a romantic backdrop. Stylistically it harks back to songs like "Lady Lemora", but shows the band's increasing confidence. An acoustic-sounding guitar takes the lead for some frantic riffing. The accordion solo takes me on a Proustian rush to the opening titles of 'Bergerac'. My favourite 80s detective show is about as near to Paris as I usually get. The literary nature of The Ghost of Lemora's lyrics is never more in evidence. You can stick a pin in this song at random and you'll come out with a gem. My favourites include: 'Are you unhappy you ask, I replied 'no this is my normal face'' or 'There has to be a dark background to show the bright and pretty scenes.'

There's a military beat to "A Willing Recuit". OK, it would be a camp disco army, led by The Might Boosh's Noel Fielding. Personally I think you'll find that Julian Barratt (Howard) is the real star of that series, but I digress... What's great about Ghost of Lemora songs is that they are so well constructed, with different sections, which means you never get bored and are often thrilled by the ride. This album shows a broadening of the band's palette. It's still recognisably Lemora, but it's as if they have the courage, imagination and budget that these widescreen epics have always deserved. The small brass ensemble on "Winter Bride" is an example of this.

"The Dream" has a dramatic opening. Over sustained chords, there are screams and the chime of church bells. Then there's a moment of silence before the song starts properly. In other bands this might seem self indulgent, but a love of B-Movie theatrics has always been at the band's core. There's a swathe of synthesisers around the three-minute mark, which gives the song moments of Blade Runner-soundtrack scale, before the solo kicks in.

"The Hardest Word" is Lemora-by-numbers. The band don't skimp on quantity, or quality. However I don't feel this song justifies its near six-minute running time. This song suffers coming before "R.I.P." which, in the words of guitarist Swifty, is 'so old it's new again!' I heard this song on demos that pre-date the band's debut album and it's great to hear it recorded properly. What's even more impressive is that the magic has not been lost, which so often happens in such cases. The deepest and darkest dungeon in the land has been used to record the drumbeat that starts this song. This is the band at their most melodramatic. Despite Richard's proclamations that 'Sarcasm is just not my style' ("It Ain't My Fault") here he is at his most sarcastic and cutting. Real emotional trauma is described in subverted horror movie idiom: 'The victim's vanquished. The evil is dead.'

You can't blame guitarist Swifty for wanting his share of the limelight as he takes centre stage for "Exit For Your Dreams". He doesn't have a bad voice, but you can understand why he recruited Richard to the band. His skill as a wordsmith remains undiminished: 'Could it be that depression is just extreme vanity?' The guitar echoes as mellifluously as ever and this song is rendered a pleasant experiment. Next up is "Red Wine, Cigarette" which has a similar vintage to "R.I.P." This version is also super-charged, with the introduction of a tinkling toy box sound. This song shows the band's grasp of dynamics, with the inrush of sound just after the two-minute mark.

"Silence of Ghosts" is the highlight of the album. The liquid guitars have echoes of The Cure, who have mapped this territory before, but this song is unmistakably The Ghost of Lemora. Stuart's bass is a key component of the song, with a repeated riff driving things inexorably forward. The washes of Sonya's synthesisers also help create the ominous atmosphere. This song is over seven minutes long, making it the band's longest yet, but it could be twice as long and still not bore.

The Ghost of Lemora choose to disregard T.S. Eliot's advice and opt to end the world with a bang rather than a whimper. "The End of the World" has a hint of Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Phantom of the Opera' as the album comes to a close. This is a production that deserves to be played on Broadway. I can just see the band being showered by roses at the end of their bravura performance. Even if Jim Steinman had been recruited on production duties, this coda couldn't have been more overblown.

Like all the best bands The Ghost of Lemora create their own universe. It's a world of pubs, alcohol, cigarettes, conversation and good cheer. One wonders what they would write about if they weren't from England. This album takes the best of their debut, matches growing technique with towering ambition, to produce an album that anyone with an interest in 'alternative' music should hear.