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THE CLEVER

There's some incredibly playful and bittersweet lyric-ing here, not least on the wonderfully monikered Vivien Don't ('I made a note of our conversation to the very last word/So I could quote you on every empty promise that you offered), all delivered in a Magnetic Fields-stylee. The bad thing about this is that it reminds you how amazing Stephen Merritt is, and then you sort of miss him, rather than hearing the Spintos for what they offer. Said offering being not inconsiderable and not without its own originality. It is rather like when you are eating a particularly delicious serving of scrambled eggs, and then the person you are eating it with starts banging on about how perfect poached eggs are, and then you can't stop thinking about poached eggs, instead of scrambled ones. You know?

JOVIALITY

This is not to be misunderestimacised, and bittersweet bon mots notwithstanding, this is an incredibly rollicky and upbeat album-type-thing. Which can make it a tricky listen, as there's so many whistles, bells, brass, harmonies and liveliness, it can leave you yearning for what wanky advertising execs call 'quiet space'.

HONKY WONKS

We are happy to report that this is not a collection of heinous boogie-woogie old joannas as played by Fools Holland. Granted, there is not a lot of pianah on this, but when it does come in, it's proper plinky.

VELOCITY

This being the Spintos seventh** album, they may be in the habit of getting together and knocking out eleven songs (only one of which makes it past the 3:30 mark) in an afternoon. But Lord, this whizzes past in a whisker of a tinker's cuss, or something to that effect. It is over in a blink (see: rollickingness, above).

** We did not think seventh albums happened anymore these days/in our post 9-11 world/in Broken Britain/now the credit is crunching. But apparently it do. Well done Spintos.

TOY TOWN

Though we are as susceptible as anyone to handclaps, xylophones, brass sections (give us brass sections anyday, we once played in a brass band and it was HEAVEN sitting in the tuba section with all that shiny aural warmth around us) there is a LOT of tinkly tonkling on this. It's one parts Danielson to one part Beirut, but unfortunately neither as all-out crazy as the former, or rousing as the latter.

THE MOO-WN

S'obvious, innit...it's the name of the record. And an excuse to put a picture of Noel Fielding with shaving cream all over his noggin on the site.

Moonwink is out today. You can buy it here

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