Acid House Kings
Sing along with Acid House Kings
Labrador/Twentyseven Records

This veteran group is currently in its second week atop the Swedish college radio charts [ed: as of last week when this review was written], and for good reason. "Sing along with..." is a set of finely crafted pop gems with earnest--sometimes painfully earnest--boy/girl vocals. There's a light-but-heartfelt quality to the proceedings, spurred on by romanticism in the style of 60s popular music, not current emo suburban angst. Although Belle and Sebastian comparisons are likely, Acid House Kings sound more like The Association or The Left Banke fronted by a girl next door (in this case Julia Lannerheim) with a voice similar to that of St. Etienne's Sarah Cracknell. The snappy "Tonight is forever" succeeds in its simplicity. Vocals on the chorus bounce between trumpets and violins: "We are the city life/tonight is forever/until the lights go out/I'm glad you're here with me/tonight." The slower, acoustic "Saturday train" benefits from Lannerheim's sleepy delivery, while "London school of economics" gets stuck in a plodding rut. The standout here is "This heart is a stone" which blends Lannerheim's sunny voice with tambourine, finger snaps and a xylophone, among other instruments. Lyrics about the heart that would come across as ridiculous or ironic in other hands sound absolutely genuine in this case. And the band takes the album title seriously; a karaoke DVD comes with the set, so you really can sing along with these Swedes. There's no doubt that the music of Acid House Kings is polarizing. Those turned off by too many handclaps, too many bittersweet choruses and too many frightfully innocent lyrics will not like this record. Anyone on the other side of that line, however (anyone who usually likes Labrador bands, frankly), should snap up this title immediately. Vocal and instrumental abilities aside, the group's best talent is in the creation of melodies so catchy you'll swear you've heard them before, and you'll hum them all day even after you realize you haven't.
- Matthew W. Smith