Hunting down old girlfriends or treasured childhood television shows can seem like a good idea at the time, but bands like Piano Magic recognize that after the initial warmth of nostalgia washes away, most memories are best left fantasized about.

With a formula that perks curiosity -- artless experimentation, revolving bandmembers, using old-tech toys in new-tech situations -- Popular Mechanics is less about what kind of music you really listened to as a kid and more about what you remember what you listened to.

"Revolving Moth Cage" takes a painlessly childish keyboard melody and inserts it into a complex canvas of ambient trickery while the friendly Eraserhead interpretations on "Birth of an Object" are just on the right side of despondent, electronic reinvention.

The self-proclaimed Kraftwerk and drum 'n' bass influences are disguised as well: to be sure, there's a certain antique thrust to the badly spoken word "Wrong French" or a Kid 606-like junkyard scream to the "Metal Coffee" red herring, but it's how mainman Glen Johnson strives to "aim for the heart" that really makes the album worthwhile.

This is splayed-out Krautrock dub with a newly found sense of compassion.

Much like the reconstructionist vibe of comic book writer Kurt Busiek, Piano Magic seem intent in rediscovering a childhood that never existed, reexamining those memories that never happened -- all with an innovative, electronic zeal that would make most any fellow auteur flush with admiration.