From ‘The Introduction’, you know you’re listening to something quite different: a creaky vinyl spins on a gramophone; an orchestra pit warms up; ominous strings, synths and wind instruments fire up a prologue of a pantomime while the baddie parades across the stage. Comprising of eleven classically trained musicians, Emanuel and The Fear make one heck of a big sound. Summarised briefly, their music sounds like someone dropping a million instruments on the floor, picking them up then chucking them into a gigantic box, all making one melodious clatter. Citing influences from Rachmaninov to Arcade Fire, it is no wonder that so many vastly different sounds can be picked up throughout their debut album Listen.Touches of musical theatre pop up during the 18 tracks. ‘Free Life’ could easily be from the soundtrack to a West End show in which the orchestra have been zapped with energy then let loose. Interspersing the big band blowouts are gloomier tracks haunted with reverberating synths, sultry vibraphones and dark cabaret piano. Some, like ‘Trucker Lovesong’, sound like murky, twisted lullabies in the style of Martin Grech. All are intricate, climatic and ethereal.Short interludes provide seconds in which Emanuel and The Fear dabble with sound samples, electronics and piano. ‘Look Ma, The Walls are Moving!’ is explosive mayhem. ‘Razzmatazz’ is an equally disorientating mishmash of shouts, clanging chains, thumping and general deterioration of order. Perhaps the most bizarre is ‘Duckies’, a short aural snapshot of children giggling in an aquarium. One thing the band can guarantee is that listeners won’t fall into slumber from hearing dull, same-old ideas.Emanuel Ayvas takes centre stage in most of the songs, though the mixture of tempos and styles show off the different elements of his voice. In ‘Ariel and the River’, a peculiar, a poppy track with a Simple Minds vibe, he sounds like Jack Black, almost preaching and half-singing his lines. In ‘Guatemala’, he’s more like Serj Tankian, spitting out vocals at high speed to a background of heavy bass riffs, Arabian-influenced violins and flute melodies that could charm snakes. His slight huskiness is constant, being particularly strong in ‘Jimme’s Song’, where acoustic guitars, swing trumpets and a glockenspiel form a chilled James Morrison-style atmosphere. The many aspects of Ayvas’ vocals mirror the variety of components in the band.Listen presents Emanuel and the Fear as a loud, unpredictable orchestra of skilled and varying musicians crafting anything-but-ordinary songs. However, listening to them through a pair of headphones leaves you feeling distanced from the band. If their shows are as energetic and tumultuous as they sound on CD, then Emanuel and The Fear must be pretty special live.