Back in November, The Ramona Flowers released Dismantle, a well-received slice of electropop interspersed with drum'n'bass beats and psych-rock guitar (NME even likened it to Lamb and Radiohead). They were praised for the way they conveyed emotion through glitches, and the surge in popularity that followed helped propel them into a support slot with Bastille. Six months on, the Bristol-based trio are dropping their next EP, Lust And Lies, surely hoping to emulate their past success. The good news is, they've got two great, rounded cuts on offer; the bad news is that the EP is padded with remixes. This is more akin to a single than an EP proper, with over half the tracks just reworkings of the title track.

The remixes themselves aren't bad at all, with both Joe Goddard of Hot Chip adding his Midas touch and Ladytron having a dabble. Goddard's take focuses on percussion, with erratic, jerky drums dominating the sound while ethereal vocals bob in and out of the frame. Ladytron's twist is tinted with saxophone-y vox and lethargic synth pads. There's nothing wrong with looking at a track in a few different ways, but it just seems a bit of a shame to pad out their second release with so many versions of one track, when we could be hearing more original material and getting a firmer grasp of what The Ramona Flowers are like.

The original 'Lust And Lies' recalls the folktronica of James Yuill – there's splendid blending of synthetic fragments and organic instruments on display. It's thoroughly melodic, and the falsetto is a gorgeous layer that adds a Temper Trap sheen to the proceedings. In the carefully sculpted chorus, fluttering percussion and bittersweet lyrics ("How right you were, how right you were") give the otherwise morose track a sense of hope. 'The Spirit', the only other new effort on Lust And Lies, and probably technically a B-side, disturbs deliberately repressed memories of Bono's pious crooning. It's not unlike Bastille. The effort is a 90s power-ballad, very American in delivery, with almost-xx guitar and, weirdly, a semi-Madchester chorus; there's so many elements that shouldn't fit together, but it just does.

Perhaps it's been mismarketed, or maybe it's just the definition of what an EP constitutes is changing. Lust And Lies appears very conservative, with radio-friendly vogue noises and little chance to glimpse The Ramona Flowers' whole hand – it's unfortunate that we're going to have to wait another few months for more to materialise as they drip-feed us their music. They have much chart potential, and based on the morsels we've been allowed to devour so far, they've got a fair few aces up their sleeves.