Spoon Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga by: Justin Pearsall Mon:16-Jul-07 Label: Merge Year: 2007 WB rating 84 out of 100

The majority of Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga is so hook-laden, simple and infectious that it would take a particular kind of unruly cynic to deny its charms. Like WB writer Al Cottrill said about The Hold Steady’s Boys and Girls in America, “music should grab you from day one, from the first second”, and so it is with Spoon’s latest release. There is no gestation period; no need to theorise or mythologise, its uncomplicated beauty will affect from the first spin.

The album opens, and closes, with exceptions to this rule. ‘Don’t Make Me a Target’ is a progressive, mid-tempo slugger that is a surprising introduction to the record. This, however, is not accredited to any great evolution in sound, the song’s reminiscent to the piano-and-rhythm drive that dominated Kill The Moonlight, but is caused by its experimental nature and grinding sound. While as a standalone the track is an interesting and attention-grabbing composition, its first-up placement on an album that is predominately party-time swagger is misguided. Similarly, album closer ‘Black Like Me’ misses its mark, its Supergrass-esque honesty only becoming coherent with the rest of Ga in its final minute of Britpop-inspired enthusiasm.

The other notable challenge to Ga’s party MO is the thick staccato of ‘The Ghost of You Lingers’. On an album that is defined by subtle and minimalist production the song’s twisted panning – where voices rise and fall from the ether – multiple vocal melodies and sweeping white noise are a revelation. Unlike ‘Black Like Me’ and more successful than ‘Don’t Make Me a Target’, both of which could possibly have been replaced by tracks that more closely matched the predominant mood of the album, ‘Ghost’ is vitally important in establishing Ga as not only fun, but ‘art’ as well.

Besides these three tracks, the album’s remaining seven songs are wall-to-wall bounce. ‘You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb’ has a revised Motown-era groove that is punctuated by Britt Daniel’s falsetto and Jim Eno’s unremitting beat; ‘Don’t You Evah’ and ‘Eddie’s Ragga’ are more restrained affairs, their funky-rhythms and Daniel’s suave delivery ensures that they remain foot-tapping excursions, and ‘Rhthm and Soul’s Kinks-like earnestness enables the album to exist in that curious ground between innovation and homage.

The finest moment of this balancing act, however, is ‘The Underdog’, a song fuelled by a ‘Ring Of Fire’-styled horn refrain, Golden Era-pop rhythm and atypically used handclaps – the beat far removed from the usual way the hands mimic the snare line. The song succeeds both as an immediate attention getter and as a mini-art form, its unique use of rhythm and the in-and-out existence of instruments – where guitars are stripped down and panned, the rhythm section appearing and disappearing – making it far more ambitious than a casual listen would suggest.

As is implicit throughout Al’s review of The Hold Steady, an album that is nothing but party anthems can be a valued commodity. But without some level of ingenuity or a second layer of detail – for Al this is found in Finn’s real world narratives – it is unlikely such albums will stand the test of time. With Ga, Spoon have provided the appropriate sub-plot to survive this test. But this is most successful not when Daniels tries to veer from the typically ‘standard’ songwriting structure of the record, ‘Don’t Make Me a Target’ and ‘Black Like Me’ being two of the album’s weaker tracks, but occurs when the band and the production team use non-linear methods to spice up what are essentially well-crafted, basic pop tunes. These little nuances ensure that Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga is not only immediately satisfying; it is also deep enough to sustain many encore performances.