Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 17/10/05
Label: Stockholm/Universal

Like any promising thoroughbred, The Cardigans shot out of the pop gate with confidence and grace, fast establishing the kind of form that looked set to win them fistfuls of rosettes. And, for a while, they did. Since debuting with "Emmerdale", they released an album annually for five years and, in 1997, became superstars with their sweet and giddy "Lovefool" single. A significant hurdle loomed, however, in the shape of 1998's "Gran Turismo" which, lacking any obvious singles, saw the band fall heavily. They limped off for a rethink and, when they returned five years later - with the markedly more confessional "Long Gone Before Daylight" - a once excited pop world simply shrugged its shoulders. So, why should we care now about album number six from the Swedish band with the irritatingly gauche name?

Simple. "Super Extra Gravity" is a fine, sure-footed pop record, shorn of the retro, slightly kitschy overtones of their debut, the awkward flirtation with electronica that marked out "Gran Turismo" and the overly measured, self-aware statement of "maturity" that was their last LP. Singer Nina Persson has said, "compared to our last album, this is an obnoxious teenager", but there are no lyrical or musical concessions to The Kids here. As ever, Persson - whose slightly ragged, sweetly soulful voice is surely one of the most underrated in pop - focuses on the grown-up business of relationships, while the band marks out a kind of tempered, post-grunge/pop middle ground with a healthy slug of Pixies, a little R.E.M. and a dash of country by way of Wilco.

It's not an extraordinary mix, but it is a damned effective one. Half a dozen of these songs could be added to any discerning listener's personal jukebox: the opening "Losing A Friend", with its near funeral drum beat and a vocal that casts Persson as the Scandinavian Carole King; the veiled homage to Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours" that is the lusciously lowering "Drip Drop Teardrop"; "Holy Love", with its heavily hammered organ; impossibly addictive first single (deep breath), "I Need Some Fine Wine And You, You Need To Be Nicer"; the sad, farewell waltz around a haunted dancehall that is "Overload"; and the gorgeous "Don't Blame Your Daughter (Diamonds)", a yearning but restrained plea for familial forgiveness.

Eleven years on, and, rather than unravelling, The Cardigans may have made their best album yet. In that light, we should perhaps even think about excusing them their name.

    by Sharon O'Connell