Hood are miserable bastards. And that's a big part of their charm. The Leeds, England quartet began in 1990 as an unassuming, lo-fi rock unit with a knack for satisfying sensitive indie rockers' desire for melancholy songs. Like fellow Leeds denizens the Wedding Present, but with less bravado and more introversion, Hood located the exquisite pleasure of sadness assuaged by grinding, chiming guitars and flat, sincere vocals.

On albums like Silent '88, Hood--brothers Richard and Christopher Adams and Stephen Royle, but expanded to a quintet for this tour--come on like heirs to Joy Division's miserablist throne, albeit in reduced circumstances. Compared to Hood's humble yet heartfelt poignancy, Joy Division sound positively grandiose and melodramatic. Quality of fidelity notwithstanding, Hood--who perform at Neumo's March 22--deal in a particularly British strain of triumphant defeatism; their resignation sounds like a sweet reward.

But you can only travel so far with autumnal, threadbare-sweatered mope rock before experiencing diminishing returns. Like most intelligent musicians, Hood evolved. For indie rockers, evolution typically means adding electronic and/or hiphop elements into their music. (As Downpour, Adams has recorded some thrilling, weird drum 'n' bass that's comparable to early Third Eye Foundation.)

But let's backtrack a bit. Change began to creep into Hood's sound with 1997's Rustic Houses, Forlorn Valleys, and 1999's The Cycle of Days and Seasons. Here, the songs sprawl to more epic lengths, recalling pastoral British post-rockers like Bark Psychosis and Talk Talk. (Third Eye's Matt Elliot coproduced these two albums, and his murky, dub-like sound processing permeates them.)

Two 2001 releases--mini-album Home Is Where It Hurts and full-length Cold House--represent another shift in Hood's approach, introducing more electronic and hiphop traits. Many consider Cold House to be Hood's Kid A, and there is the similar expanding of stylistic tics that Radiohead exhibited. Cold House's first track, "They Removed All Trace That Anything Had Ever Happened Here," in which Doseone speed-raps over orchestral indie- tronica, starkly reveals Hood's new direction. "You Show No Emotion at All" does just the opposite, morosely breezing down Morr Music's boulevard of crunch-and-twinkle emotronica. The beats on Cold House may be more danceable, but Hood haven't succumbed to clubdom's smiley-faced hedonism--rather, they've slightly modulated their soft-focus melancholy.

Hood's new album, Outside Closer, provides a Technicolor summary of their career. "Any Hopeful Thoughts Arrive" and "End of One Train Working" evoke the gentler side of Four Tet's folktronica. Vibrant, melodically sophisticated glitch-hop single "The Lost You" shares similarities with Scientific American's new album. If this track doesn't exactly scream "hit," it does indicate that Hood are one of those rare groups who improve--and change--with age. But they're still miserable blokes.

segal@thestranger.com