Johnny Foreigner
Waited Up 'til It Was Light

Summer’s splash album. Johnny Foreigner sound like a Coca-Cola bottle shaken for 10 minutes: ready to explode at any moment, at every chord, at every variation in the song structure. The influences clearly look towards certain American alternative rock halfway between Pixies and Sonic Youth during the "Dirty" period, especially for the guitar sound, even if the result more closely resembles today’s British bands like Blood Red Shoes, The Subways or the furious Los Campesinos!. The alternation and overlap of male and female vocals creates variety and contributes to making the offering even fresher and more unpredictable, in a dreamy mix of distortions and strangely pop choirs.

It kicks off with the infectious melody of those that refuse to leave your head from "Lea Room", then moves on to the quiet beginning of the following "Our Bipolar Friends" which unexpectedly transforms into an exciting riff that bursts forth suddenly and uncontrollably. Pure adrenaline (forget about Finley...) The Coca-Cola is now all over, foamy; all that's left is to dive in and enjoy gems like the sick pop refrain of "Cranes and Cranes and Cranes and Cranes" or the very intense "Yes! You Talk Too Much", perfect for three exhilarating minutes of bedroom pogoing without pauses, as well as the unexpected caress of "Djs Get Doubts", namely Shout Out Louds playing "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" by The Smiths, or the enchanting piano line of "Absolute Balance", miles away from Coldplay and James Blunt's ballads with that final outcry and guitars that seem to swallow the melody line, which, however, surprisingly stays intact. "Eyes Wide Terrified" plays on vocal harmonies, but no Beach Boys here as the guitars immediately turn distorted and the drums pound like the Pumpkins when they're in shape. "The End And Everything After" is an emo punk version of Paramore while "Henning Favourite" are the teenage offspring of Thurston and Kim of Sonic Youth making music in their parents' garage while being watched with envy. "Salt Peppa and Spinderella", despite the title, has a spoken section that, more than recalling the rap/r'n'b of Salt'n'Pepa, reminds of "Popular" by Nada Surf, with a sprinkle of "tu tu tu tu" choirs that give it a catchy dimension (nothing to do with Zero Assoluto's "tuturuturututtu", rest assured). And when "Yr All Just Jealous" arrives, all forms of control and social decorum are lost, and you dance. You dance like the possessed.

A group of very young ones from Birmingham (but none of the members are named Johnny Foreigner, as they point out on their Myspace) that is today another NME bet and tomorrow might burn all its genuineness in reckless experimentation or boring records, this is hard to say today. For now, you can blast this exhilarating little disc on your iPod at an excessive volume, risking bursting your eardrums, but who cares? and go out skateboarding under the sun, and fall in love again as if it were the first time, and drink beer until you’re sick and realize that as long as there are bands like this, you'll always feel like you're sixteen.