CAMBRIDGE — Look at these guys. There was Mom on bass, in a cherry-red pantsuit. Dad on tambourine, sporting a bolo tie. Their two daughters tending to the drums, keyboards, guitar, harmonica, and banjo, in skintight jumpsuits made of black and blue latex. And their son playing nearly as many instruments, in a snazzy suit and tie and enough pomade to make Don Draper drool.  I mean, come on. How could you not love Kitty, Daisy & Lewis?  Indeed, the family band has become something of a sensation in its native England, where Kitty, Daisy, and Lewis Durham have been making music since they were kids. They’re all in their 20s now, and their parents are auxiliary players to the core trio of siblings.  The Durhams come from a long line of British acts that mine the rich veins of American roots music. From song to song at the Sinclair on Thursday, touring behind their new album, “The Third,” they nimbly moved in and out of rockabilly, soul, folk, 1950s pop, swing, and the blues, and even ventured into ska with an assist from beloved Jamaican trumpeter Eddie “Tan Tan” Thornton.  Their charm, chops, and chemistry were undeniable; they had them in spades. But often they weren’t enough to conceal a harder truth about the band: Their songs still have a long way to go. They’re sturdy, catchy compositions that don’t dig much deeper than the surface. They were entertaining, sure, but they didn’t especially move you. All that showmanship seldom translated to palpable emotion and or anything all that revealing.  Instead, the joy was in their enthusiasm and stage presence. It was sort of cute to realize the company of their parents did nothing to dampen the band’s feisty spirit. Introducing “No Action,” Daisy announced, “This next one is about not getting any action when you need it.” And Kitty’s ode to her booze of choice, “Whiskey,” got down and dirty: “I wanna get you home, boy, and mess around with you/ I’ll take you home,” she sang, a sly smile creeping across her face. (Turns out this family is full of firebrands: Their mother, the immensely enjoyable Ingrid Weiss, used to play drums in the Raincoats, the British post-punk band.)  Lewis, meanwhile, radiated a confidence that suggested he’s being groomed for bigger things. On “Developer’s Dream,” he lamented the familiar problem of watching his neighborhood losing its character by tearing down the old haunts to make way for the new. Arranged as a folk-blues number, it was right in line with ’60s protest songs such as Malvina Reynolds’s “Little Boxes.”  It was a glimmer of what the future could hold for Kitty, Daisy & Lewis beyond their backstory and razzmatazz.
From England, Kitty, Daisy & Lewis keep it in the family for a delightful, if not especially moving, performance at the Sinclair.