Spiritualized records tend to be big.

The British group's 1997 release, "Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space," was a space-rock-psychedelic-gospel landmark renowned for its spaciousness. There were horns and choirs and string quartets, and recording budgets to match.

Frontman Jason Pierce, Spiritualized's leader and sole mainstay, found himself in reduced circumstances when he began work on the outfit's first album in six years, "And Nothing Hurt."

It was mostly him, alone in his London apartment with his laptop, poring over endless potential samples from his record collection, constantly trying to match the Bigness of the early days all by himself. He would enter the studio to record things like horn sections whenever he had the money.

"And Nothing Hurt" came out last fall, and Pierce still seems unsure how feels about it — he thinks maybe he likes it? In a phone interview, Pierce (who brings Spiritualized to the Vic Theatre on Tuesday, where he will play the new record in full) is warm and self-flagellating, in the very specific way of British rock stars.

The following is an edited version of that conversation:

Q: How are you?

A: How am I. Ooh, I don't know the answer to that just yet. Good, I guess? That's an easy one without thinking. How are you?

Has performing the whole album in its entirety changed how you feel about it? In early interviews, you were like, "I'm not sure about this thing."

I don't know. Sometimes you start out with good intentions — or I guess sometimes it's just good to have some intentions, (rather) than just roll along every day. ... I felt like it's important to make a piece of music that was worth putting out there, that it wasn't just something you did. It's kind of early days, so it's hard to say anything about it, but people get really involved with it. They're not shouting out the name of old songs

In the middle of recording, you did anniversary shows for "Ladies and Gentlemen." Did that change how you approached recording when you went back home?

I was struggling with that record all the way through. It seemed like I just didn't have the funds to make the record I wanted to make, like I was battling against limitations that had gone in so early. I certainly wouldn't attempt to make a record like that again. It seems like the limitations had already fixed themselves to those songs in the way they were put together. There didn't seem to be any way out of that.

How long did recording take you, from start to finish?

Oh, for years. Where I live in London, they took a huge building on the side of the block down and built a new office block in less time than it took me to make my album.

There's a metaphor in there, somewhere.

I think so too, yeah. By the time I finished my album the light had disappeared in the shadow of this great building. That's a further metaphor, I guess.

Are you the kind of person who, when you're making an album, it's all consuming? Where you say, "Don't talk to me," and you go in your room and lock the door?

Kind of, but life goes on. You can't be like that. It's the most important thing, and you get one shot at it. I'm like that with everything I do that I think is worthwhile.

How did you know when it was finished?

I ran out of tracks. There's something like 200 tracks (on Pro Tools software), and I just kind of ran out of room.

You've said, "Disappointment hangs over this record." Do you still feel that way?

No, now it's gone. Playing it live is a completely different thing, and it really brings it together ... . You hold onto the good bits. (With conventional recording), you've got so little time-you go in and do a few takes, and you hold onto the take that works. But when you play live, you get this endless kind of development. I can't say enough. It's amazing to be doing it again.

Were you very isolated making the album? Does it feel weird to be around people again?

Yeah, yeah. Just doing anything other than that. I don't really know any way of doing that. I don't find it easy to say, "That'll do" in anything.

You've flirted with the idea of this being your last record, but is that like right after a woman gives birth, where she swears she's never doing it again?

(Laughs) Who knows? I don't know. I feel like there's gotta be an easier way to do it. Maybe there's an album with an epidural coming down the line.

You've always rejected the easy money _ doing a Spacemen 3 reunion, or doing big festival shows. Do you ever sit there and say, "I should have taken that money. I could've recorded with that"?

No, I honestly don't think it works like that. I don't think you can kind of cash in, and then cash out. Once you've cashed in, you've gone that way and it's harder. I think it's about satisfying yourself.

Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC