[1] McAloon was rendered nearly blind for a period in 1999 due to detached retinas;[2] housebound, he found comfort in listening to shortwave radio transmissions like chat shows, phone-in programs and documentaries.

The largely instrumental album marks a notable stylistic change from previous Prefab Sprout work, featuring classical passages and orchestration reminiscent of Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel, McAloon's two favourite composers.

Writing much of the music on his computer, McAloon was given help by co-producer Calum Malcolm and composer David McGuinness in translating his original versions into the final recordings, with live orchestration provided by Mr McFall's Chamber.

With themes of old memories and time passing, I Trawl the Megahertz is a highly personal work, dominated by its poignant title track, in which Connors intones "the story of her life", largely created by excerpts of radio conversation, over an orchestral motif.

"[5] In 1999, Paddy McAloon, front man of British pop band Prefab Sprout, suffered detachment from both retinas in his eyes in quick succession, possibly due to congenital factors, which needed extensive surgery and left him nearly blind for some time.

"[12] He spent a long period of time working on the music on the album, particularly the title track, as "just as a computer piece, using the same old rubbishy synth sounds.

[10][14] McAloon thanks Malcolm and McGuinness in the liner notes "for helping to translate my illiterate ideas into scores that professional musicians could read without laughing.

[7] Washes of orchestration that have been compared to Leonard Bernstein and passages said to evoke Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel, McAloon's favourite composers, are coupled "with words of intelligence and desperate sadness.

"[6] The usage of strings and "a mournful horn section" helps distance the album from the plaintive melodies and witty wordplay of Prefab Sprout's music.

"[15] Entertainment.ie felt the weaving of fragments of radio show conversations into "a series of compelling narratives against a lushly orchestral background" defines the album's sound.

[7] At the time, McAloon felt that if he were to release it under the Prefab Sprout name, fans would be disappointed to find a lack of single material.

[7] Featuring a recurring motif played by swaying, lush string arrangement,[10] as well as "weeping" trumpet,[16] the song takes on "an almost dream-like state.

"[9] She follows her introduction with a splicing together and anecdotes and stories inspired by the aforementioned late night radio talk shows,[9] mostly taken from phone-ins and documentaries,[6] which are displayed as fragments of the narrator's memory.

[16] "Once contextualized this becomes a deeply moving autobiographical ode to isolation, loss and heartache," according to Chris Jones of the BBC, "it's as if McAloon's well-proven gift for aching melody and erudite love songs has, due to his enforced immobility, been subsumed into a purer and more abstract medium.

"[10] The lines veer "from heartbreaking sadness to contemplations on time passed," according to Guy Collier of The Digital Fix,[7] McAloon compared the song to a short film.

[7] The instrumentals include "We Were Poor..." and its companion piece "...But We Were Happy," which are lushly orchestrated reiterations of the album's main theme,[7] the jazzy vamp of "Fall from Grace",[10] and "Esprit De Corps", a technical exercise that has been compared to Frank Zappa.

Chris Jones of the BBC called the album "gorgeous" and "a work of troubling beauty," speculating that "such a deeply personal project will probably never recapture those people that bought Steve McQueen the first time around.

"[17] The reviewer cited the album's title track as the highlight, "a 22-minute tale of loss narrated by an American female vocalist that builds into an unbearably moving symphony of sadness.

"[17] John Murphy of musicOMH, said that I Trawl The Megahertz "won't be to everyone's taste – in fact you get the feeling that most people will probably be a bit baffled by the whole thing.

"[9] The Independent hailed the "extraordinary" album, calling it "unspeakably poignant,"[6] while a reviewer for The Scotsman wrote: "Encroaching blindness, seclusion, the loneliness of the short-wave aficionado - I can't think when I last heard a sadder record.