Yahoo! Music Review

Released on 26/02/07
Label: Source

It is genuinely hard to think of a bad situation that could not, momentarily, be improved by "I Wish That I Could See You Soon", euphoric opening cut from "Giant". Job's a joke? Broke? Love life's DOA? Forget bogus smile-peddlars like The Magic Numbers - this offers consolation by the armful. Hawaiian and surf guitars, bongos, a mariachi-ish middle eight, rhymes so perky you could slap their bottoms, a question-and-answer chorus, lyrics that include the verb "to spoon" and a groove as deep as the Mariana Trench. Don't get us started on the "Sesame Street"-esque video, we'd be here all day.

Up to this point in their spotless careers, Paris/NY-based brothers David-Ivar and Andre Herman Dune have worked with a fairly bare palette: creating an atmospheric tableau of interlaced Silvertones, brushed drums and David-Ivar's endearingly gauche English As A Foreign Language delivery (sprinkled here with a ton of slangy "and I'm like..."s) tripping dourly through whimsical tales of courtship and travel and quirky incidents involving dead cats and intercoms.

This all remains on their fifth album (proper), thank God, but is augmented by rich, vintage horns parping supportively and chummy girl backing singers (New York's charmingly guileless The Woo Woos, starring little sister Lisa). A tonal switch has been flicked, too: the sparsely-rendered sorrow and soul that has garnered them almost universal acclaim, gets a serotonin injection. Which - panic not - doesn't simply mean there are several Bobby McFerrin moments but also that Jonathan Richman comes through loud and clear.

"Take Him Back To New York City" is a good example. A chirpy spoken intro explains the song's autobiographical element ahead of a jingly tale of homesickness and a love left behind across the ocean: "He needs her like the light of day but times sixty." As the brass nudges him forward like a kindly godfather, our narrator talks himself around until he's woah-woah-woahing and has probably logged onto eBookers before the outro has even played out.

Ten carat song follows ten carat song. By the time cuckolded lover saga "When The Water Gets Cold And Freezes On The Lake" - deep, slow, thundering Motown bass drum, tambourine, Theremin - rolls around, you're rooting for this guy like he's the kid you used to scrump apples with. Indeed, it's hard not to stand and cheer when this song, too, ends on a note of redemptive optimism.

Honest, bright, moving and funny and without a cynical bone in its body, "Giant" is a tiny bit like a Kurt Vonnegut essay set to music. It's a lot like Napoleon Dynamite dancing for Pedro at the school elections. Climb onto your roof and shout it loud: this will be one of the finest and most tragically overlooked albums of 2007.

    by Anna Britten