Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs
Trouble

And off we go once again to the media drumbeat.

It's hard not to be intrigued, in fact, by a young lad wearing headpieces in the most absurd colors, regardless of the music he makes. And it's a shame, because, like many other artists judged for being "cool," Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs has talent, and you can hear it. You could hear it from the myriad of singles that have been released with a certain frequency over the past two years, almost all contained in this debut album, "Trouble," which many said would become the epitome of electronics in 2012. One of the most anticipated albums, one of those that make you lose your mind as soon as you see it displayed on a record store shelf. So weird, so cool, so terribly design.

"Trouble," unfortunately, will end up as an album played in the trendiest clubs in Berlin or Milan, with people addicted to the intermittent neon lights, the cocktails in diverse and flashy colors, and the tons of smoke that fill and suffocate the environment. And it's a shame because "Trouble" is a good album, certainly imperfect, but worthy of more listens and capable of great tracks (just think of the beautiful "Household Goods" and the frantic "Tapes & Money").

Fourteen tracks, where between his perpetually bored, yet hypnotic and compelling voice, and those beats halfway between 8-bit and Caribbean electronics, you can see the colors. Even in the less successful tracks ("Trouble," "Shimmer"), you'll be able to hear a thousand things and see them, like a summer at its peak that will divide everyone: some will dream of the beach, others will spend time hoping for winter.

Here it is. This is the summer album. You put it on, and you're filled with light. You forget, for once, all the cult status that has built up around its distribution, and you let go.

Whether it's the duet with an equally bored, but not tiresome female voice ("Garden") or the wonderful love song "You Need Me On My Own," which is drenched in the '80s and winks at Tiga, managing not to be banal. There's something amiss, a few fillers, but it doesn't matter because the instrumental "American Dream Part II" will come and spit in your face, forcing you to dance until you break your bones.

A good album full of sunsets and explosions, of little dancefloor universes that, surely, is too long (after a while, it tires), but it nonetheless manages to do its dirty job: it amuses, entertains, and manages to give you more than one good track.

I listen to it while it's sweltering outside. I listen to it when I should be studying, but I lose myself in time passing by. I get lost among these sonic textures and feel a bit cool myself. Well, no. But how nice it is to listen to cheerful music, every now and then.