Klaxons - Myths of the Near Future

I've always been fascinated by music-writers' fascination with where bands come from. Rarely an in-depth Q Magazine interview goes by without the interviewer drawing a parallel between the personality/style/sexuality of the singer/group in question and the town where they grew up. It all feels a bit like Horoscopes to me - if that's what growing up in Athens, Georgia does to you, why isn't everyone REM? Or, to look at it another way, Klaxons are from the midlands - so are UB40.

Klaxons are part of the NME-embraced (sponsored) Nu-Rave wave, the movement that (as they put it) "started as an in-joke and became a minor youth subculture". Two of them went to school together, and they all grew up in the same place, but I'm listening to Myths Of The Near Future as I write this, and dammit, it's not from anywhere. And if it is, it's certainly not the fucking midlands.

The opening track, Two Receivers, is relentlessly, stubbornly spiralling, embracing and enthralling you before you've even realised what's happening. The whimsical, breathless harmonies put you in mind of a balletic punk - too beautiful to avoid, but too fucking stubborn to do it properly.

And once you're in, you're in - the remainder of the album doesn't let you go, from the angry vibrancy of Golden Skans to the anthemic crowd-pleaser that is "It's not ever yet", which brings to mind the Dandy Warhols kickin' it for Vodafone. This is an album of contentedly angsty pop songs - three minute encapsulations of aching 'what the fuck?'

It's too joyous to be angsty, and too panic-ridden to be happy - it's like they're as caught up in it all as much as you are, and just can't stop what they're doing. This is pop music on the edge, with the electro-wall constantly threatening to overwhelm the often tremulous vocals, before suddenly the roles are reversed - gaily furious pop songs of attrition.

And no, it's not perfect. It sometimes feels too studied, a little like Bill and Andie's fifteenth first date in Groundhog Day, but it feels somewhat churlish to criticise for that. So what if Klaxons have called all my mates to find out exactly what I like? (And who the fuck told them about The Bangles, by the way?) If only all bands cared that much. This album feels like it was recorded by a school rugby team that decided to beating the shit out of the choirboys, and record some tracks with them instead - it's the glorious battle of extremities that lifts the best songs towards somewhere remarkable.

And I'm seeing them live in just over a fortnight - if they're as liberated and explosive on stage as I'm led to believe, and they can unleash all the energy this album threatens, it's going to be quite an experience. I can't fucking wait. I may even forgive them for using the phrase 'minor youth subculture'.

Anyway - what do you think?