Few records these days manage to be genuinely inventive and unpredictable, without falling into the trap of self-conscious gimmickry and try-hard posturing. Too often, an over-abundance of ideas in the arrangement and production of an album is used as a mask for lacklustre songwriting and the absence of a strong sense of band identity. Return To The Sea from Canadian outfit Islands – the remnants of The Unicorns with a couple of new members – largely manages to prove an exception to the rule.

Comparisons to Arcade Fire’s 2005 emergence Funeral are inevitable. The two bands are peers and friends, and members of Arcade Fire perform session roles on Return to the Sea. The similarities run deeper, however. Both groups seem to fly in the face of mainstream expectation, while also rejecting the accepted sound of North American "alternative music". Islands’ debut is a fairly consistently mesmerising opus of clever, unconventional songwriting and inspired out-of-left-field arrangements.

The songs see-saw from melodies so simple and catchy they are occasionally reminiscent of children’s nursery-rhymes, and slower grown-up choruses and refrains which catch the listener completely by surprise and take the breath away. Meanwhile the album’s production is a constant exercise in defiant quirkiness – whistling jingling and skipping one moment, groaning clattering and searing the next. However, this is not just a case of a band piling ideas randomly upon ideas for the sake of sounding unique. As with trailblazers The Flaming Lips, the use of strange instrumentation and unexpected sound-effects is brazen but understated, and used in such a way as to seamlessly compliment the shape and texture of the songs.

Opening track Swans (Life After Death) makes ten minutes feel like four with just the right mix of epic angst and gentle levity, and ending with a Neil Young-esque rock-out jam. Humans sounds like an indie-rock power-ballad hijacked by escapees from The Muppet Show armed with a brass band. A jug-band hoe-down is abducted by aliens in Volcanoes, while Jogging Gorgeous Summer could be a lost Eels track, accompanied by calypso steel-drums and a perky tin-whistle which turn out to be as perfect as they seem initially incongruous.

Unfortunately, the creativity of ideas does not always pay off. The intriguingly-titled Where There’s A Will There’s A Whalebone begins and ends as a cool 80s New Romantics number, disoriented and slightly aroused to find itself in dark post-grunge clothing. However the middle section becomes an interminably misjudged spoken-word/rap piece which is out of place and frankly makes the whole track irritating. The final two listed songs also lack the energy and staying-power of their predecessors, leading the album to amble to a halt rather than exploding in the neon it deserves. An untitled "secret" track however – arising after five minutes of thunder-storm background noise – is a wonderful piano toe-tapper which reveals surprising emotional power when lush vocal harmonies kick in.

While it has a couple of low points, Return To The Sea is an extremely likeable and promising record from a newly assembled outfit. I found myself wishing the truly ingenious moments weren't tainted by the presence of a few ideas which should have been relegated to the B-Side bin. But I couldn't help feeling affection for this album - like a dear unpredictable friend who sometimes annoys the hell out of you, but is always good value when you're down. Hopefully with future releases, Islands will maintain their knack for the unexpected and their dynamic sense of theatrics, while ironing out their occasional inconsistency.