Born Ruffians Red, Yellow and Blue by: Joseph Coscarelli Tue:19-Feb-08 Label: Mute Year: 2008 WB rating 81 out of 100

What if Born Ruffians, the hyper-active Canadian four-piece, founded their own nation? A question bordering on inane, sure, but let us just conceptualize. If the band's music is any indication, things in this land might be rather anarchic. In this fantasy world a neurotic leadership would attempt to quell a population of equally high-strung, overmedicated wanderers ('Barnacle Goose'), basket cases ('I Need A Life') and dream-chasers ('Hedonistic Me'). Still, the higher-ups would be painfully unfit for the job, their primary concern being the flag's aesthetics ('Red, Yellow, and Blue'). There would be an insatiable thirst for nothing in particular ('Red Elephant'), but the revolutionary spirit would run deep, expressed in a series of public demonstrations in which vandalism would play no small part. Granted, this is all purely speculation – with the only certainty the national colours – but that is one world that could be imagined and illustrated on Red, Yellow, and Blue through pop-rock nuggets and waltzes, vigorous gang chants, and unsophisticated but endearing charm.

Lead Ruffian Luke Lalonde is operating with pinpoint accuracy and a sharp self-awareness when he calls himself a "little garçon" – the French word for "boy" – on the track 'Little Garçon, Little Fille'. The song's thin, hummed intro, pop-folk acoustics and harmonica may have been a tad late for inclusion on the Juno soundtrack, but it wouldn't have sounded out of place. But it is exactly this youthful allure, and more importantly the uber-conscious acceptance of their own naivety, that grounds Born Ruffians. It allows the tongue to enter the cheek without appearing vapid or contemptible. The bass can thump cheesy melody, the drums can mimic a jolting guitar rhythm and Lalonde can expound innocently on monogamy in the animal kingdom ("And I know foxes mate for life because they're in love.") and none of it seems the least bit ridiculous. On 'Hedonistic Me' – reworked with a picked up pace from the band's 2006 self-titled EP – he sings of "trousers," potential offspring, and dandelion wine, but the rolling riff, tom-drum boogie and the vocal lead stretching like taffy allow lines like "And I will learn to cook for you – it's one thing that I plan to learn to do," seethe with stupid sincerity.

Bringing a playfulness to indie-pop like the short-lived Unicorns, Born Ruffians are walking an innately shaky tight-rope. There is no chance of the group valuing themselves too seriously, but still the possibility remains of devolving into a novelty – if you don't take your music at least somewhat seriously, why should anyone else? But a discernible confidence and blazing fun streak go a long way and on the call-and-response verses from 'I Need A Life' or the group-shout chaos of the climax to 'Hummingbird,' are equally rollicking and convincing.

It's a sly style to bundle bright pop with the self-esteem of Isaac Brock, and while Lalonde treats much of the album like a session, his therapeutic stream-of-consciousness is arresting, taking the listener along for the duration of the ride. "Your analyst lied to you when she told you the truth," he shouts, voice cracking, right off the bat on 'Barnacle Goose.' And on the surface, if the sound calls to mind the relationship between ignorance and bliss, listen more closely and you might get the impression that this sort of defeatism-cum-pure elation springs from actually knowing it all, and bearing that burden. Just don't mistake that shit-eating grin for blankness.