Irene Long Gone Since Last Summer. The second Irene album. They had previously alleged that they had recorded a summer trilogy of summery pop albums but it appears they were being less than truthful but then they now allege they are in the midst of recording their third album. Well done. Acid House Kings will also have an album out this year. Has it been five years since the last? i thought that always it was five years between Acid House Kings records. Irene are slightly influenced by Acid House Kings as then are most Swedish pop bands of this generation but they are also deeply reminiscent of the Magnetic Fields. I wrote as much in my review of their debut record but I erased that long ago, the ephemera of uncontroversial opinions. There is a youthful vigour to Irene; we are then left asking was Stephin Merrit ever carefree and fresh. Unlikely. More probably he escaped from the womb, cigarette ensconced and rank attitude in tact. He's an old soul, archaeological. First song has started and it is By Your Side, an epic, by their normal measures. There was a video for this, it featured two people who were not in the band but it didn't matter because it's a glorious romp, an anthem for teen love, empty headed and frivolous, perfect in execution. Long goodbyes have arrived now, horns, tremendous excitement- "I wanna thaaaaaaaaaaaaaannkk you cause you light up my life". Again with the lifting of famous lyrics. Is there a scene of bands officially recognized for this practice? In Sweden, now, there seems to be a scene comprised of the jangly contingent and of the dance duo metrosexual contingent, at the moment both use this new age of plagiarism to their advantage, and it is a splendid time to be alive. And yes then there are the Maryonettes who represent the dreadful contingent. I am always so rude about them, my apologies Mr Maryonette, it is just that I don't care much or like them actually. Sorry. Second song. I love Irene! End of the Line, he sings of boyish things and yet the disconnect comes from his withered voice. It is romantic and yet partially estranged from the vitality of his subject matter. I've not seen a photo, well I have, there are seven of them on the cover, who can be sure which is the man? I am not familiar. There is a comforting softness to his voice, a voice of authority, a deep and resonating tone. Over. Third Song. Looking for Love. There was some agreement that this was not as grand as the debut. Wrong. It's not as grand as the debut. Huh? it's still petty grand. They are companion pieces more than anything and the songs surely date from the sam eras, plebiscites on adolescent dreams sent out for public perusal and career quenching aspirations taking second place to a life of social networking and pop culture idealism. I read a review of The Dumbest Generation and felt heartened at my abnormality among my peers. I sometimes make the distinction between my generation and the current but honestly the youth obsession that afflicts so many generations since the Baby boom makes it more and more difficult to distinctly classify generations any longer. Nearly, everyone I work with is buying or planning on buying a motorcycle. Desperately they are clinging to a faded symbol of virility. I drive a box on wheels. I am not a febrile wannabe. Better, in my own thoughts, to take steroids and have a follicle transplant. Next song, a short, small number, a piano, a few hand claps, tinny drums, horns, but all in tiny measures, it's remarkably well recorded for something that sounds so warm and inviting. Is it all down to his voice? But then how does the music also turn so rustic. Next song Out of Tune, all of the songs are very short, it's a mad rush of adolescent entertainment. I am old old old but we codgers still can appreciate the well crafted celebration of youth without succumbing to it's blindnesses. Steven Millhauser looks as if he's weathered a dozen decades but his essence is in the vitality of a young man's stride and purpose. He really is brilliant. I love him so and perhaps when Irene singer is as ancient as Steven Millhauser he will still carry the torch of eternal spring. Irene could write a song about Edwin Mullhouse dancing in heaven with Teresa Wright and it would be brilliant, charming, effervescent and surreal. A bit like the Clientele perhaps. Lyrics have turned profound 'I Loooooooooooooooooooove You, Baby I love you'. There are no possible arguments available to refute such genius. Over. Little Lovin' A mid tempo strummer, as if it has escaped from a Kissing Book record, before the plague years of jazz ages and pretensions. How old is he? He seems hopelessly smitten but I wouldn't classify it as a classical twee condition. There is a smartness, a studied pose, confidence and savoir faire. Is it a collective? A cult mired in a hippy love spiral? Are they accepting applications for membership. Do you need to live in Sweden? Must you possess cheer? Winterlude is, wait for it, an interlude, simple and unaffected, not sure we needed an interlude but it is harmless enough. It has just been announced that tailgating will not be permitted when Barack Obama gives his acceptance speech at the football stadium here. The Brie and Merlot crowd will be devastated. Will he hover out over the heads of the audience suspended by guy wires with pyrotechnics and Justin Timberlake dancing in the background? Will he give the address while seated as Jesus sat when delivering the Sermon on the Mount, he must, it confers authority and he seems to have that narcissistic air of inevitability already. We'll see. Will the secret service close down ESPN Zone on the 16th street mall because it is frequented by republicans? Back to Back, "feeble words and simple chords, is that all I'll ever be", he truly sounds desperate, lonely, it's an impressive performance. There once was a band which was started with the manifesto that creating a perfect 3 minute pop song was the most challenging thing in the world ever. Somehow along the line they lost that conviction or fell lifeless in defeat and indecision and now 5 minutes or more is required to say next to nothing at all and then the importation of whistle solos and rock music, egads. In less than 2 minutes Bobby from Irene has captured the devastation of heartbreak without even a diminished minor chord or zither solo anywhere in sight. Next song is more upbeat, it's fantastic, guitars, organs, his longing voice, the soft backing vocals to temper the disappointment of winter's encroach while he's losing the thing he desires most. He offers her summer in the midst of the long night, absolutely brilliant. I've never offered anyone even a small slice of Summer and he's granting her an option on all of August. Selfless. They are a perfect pop band. Next to the best song on the album. Always On My Mind, a duet. This winter I would run in Myrtle Beach until this song came on, I could run forever in Myrtle Beach. The unending gifts of a flat topography and oxygen are not to be underesteemed. "If you let me I'd like to be with you the rest of my days". Every song is a love song about love lost, won, hoped for, whatever. It doesn't sound trite or worn and it's yearning perfectly on key. Every band's sad weepy love ballad is their biggest hit, it's a catholic acceptance of the fact that what anyone really wants is to find someone to spend their life with forever. It isn't about sex, money or drugs but rather we are driven by the search for soft kisses, tender caresses and the smile upwards in the fading sunset, under a sodium lamp outside an Indian grocery store. Last song now, a lightly feathered lament, "when I say it's forever please believe me, if only for tonight". Is he earnest and sincere or a cynic. Does he read Johnny Welch's almost Gabriel Garcia Marquez ventriloquist poem and swoon over "to live in love with love" sentiments or did he instead vote for Umberto Eco as the world greatest thinker and shares but a laugh at our collective gullibility.