Above the Town eventually shows itself a 'three-act' item, a display triptych of unique designs organised together by brief normal interludes and much understanding. Act one provides crystalline electronica pop. "Stop Getting My Time" is a Hi-NRG disco run à la Nordic neighbor Annie String and functions, amusingly, a rapping child. "You could Be Anybody" is gorgeous, delicate, glucose 'n' inflammed minds and hearts it also in the design of Sue Shapiro as the separated lithe libidos of "Run" coordinate the challenging partnership for advance. open-armed exhilaration. "Fuck it child / we've got nothing remaining to confirm / Getting off our outfits is all that is remaining to do." A-mazing n' Amen.
The second act of Above the Town is more lively if progressively acquainted , resurrecting the red air, Bossa nova seashores and lawn dresses of The Individuals' History amongst other old buddies. "Hot Sun" is all exhausted " H-h-h-hot " serenade, tipsy replicate 'n' pop dub fish, lashings of bourbon sun rising and glistening gemstones in the browse. "A small part of Heaven" is a giddy, summer months taken of Disco-Soul so just like Henry McCrae's "Rock Your Baby" you will be hollering "Woomaaaan take me in your hands/ Stone me baby" lengthy before it shimmies into the sundown. "When it down pours I'll be the rainbows, " coos Komstedt to swoonsome impact. The "Hawaii high-five ohhh" excitement proceed on "I'm Not Going to Develop Old" but. let's be sincere, it's Madonna's "Holiday" under a lavish clothing and hay hat.
The last act is certainly the poorest. "Into Air" is elegiac tragi-disco throb n' pain but is successfully a Tyrell Organization replicant of St. Etienne's "Like a Motorway", right down to the crashin' drum clatter malfunction between passages. The goofy stadia-pop of "Straight As an Arrow" is the record nadir though being a Eurobeat glucose unique sis of Queen's "We Will Stone You". The stylish, 'little lady lost', circus of spirit merry-go-rounds n' Wurlitzers of "Travel " and the lively pop cricus of "Less Than Love " are this act's saviours. But as with much of Above the Town the air are in existence with magpies and "Less Than Love" quickly swoops off with the melodic band that once enriched the side of Stories Factory's " (Feel Liks) Heaven".
Above the Town is a stylish pop record but one which drops a few actions down from the "Apopalypse Now" peaks of The Individuals' History. Having taken the duo 18 months to record and self-produce (unlike its Jari Haapalainen created precusor) before, tellingly, "Six months disagreeing about the monitor listing" it sometimes seems like a skills missing in a Labyrinth of Pop, Port Torrance-Style. As an record 'experience' it seems deliberately damaged, showing more like three "Pretty, Fairly Good" EPs. Above the Town also appears to be worryingly acquainted in locations, sometimes openly so. Yet where it stands out it extends "Pop Deluxe", even if it's not always Team 8 's "Pop Deluxe".