Here Comes The Wind
Maybe it's symbolic of how short our attention spans are becoming these days, or maybe it's the way that we consume entertainment and art at such a gratuitous, superficial level, but franco-swedish collective Envelopes just feel like a veritable Frankenstein's monster of inflences. Their press draws comparisons to Yo La Tengo, Sterolab and homespun scandie lunatics Bob Hund; all probably valid - although I hear The Sugarcubes, Belle and Sebastien, The Pixies - but as Here Comes The Wind proves there's a difference between being a precocious tossed salad of your inspirations and being just a coincidental byproduct of them.
This may sound (Indeed it reads) a little harsh, but irritatingly the world seems full of shouty minor-key girl/boy combos whose idea of rock and roll is mixing C86's shyness is nice aesthetic with bleeping midi patches only dogs can hear. In fairness nothing's particularly offensive - although I'm In Love And I Don't Care Who Knows It is as melodically twee as the title suggests - but other than the almost conventional garage rock of Life On The Beach and Audrey Pic's intriguing Bjork-strangles-Lavigne vocals on What's The Deal, Here Comes The Wind is mostly hot air.
Finally a word of warning: Love Shackers with expectations of hearing anything remotely like the fifties/eighties super camp chic of the B-52's (A comparison suggested by the band themselves) is trust me going to be almost totally nonplussed. Bummer.