The Shortwave Set, Replica Sun Machine

By Chelsea Spear

If you like lush melodies, boy/girl harmonies, blackly clever lyrics, handclaps, obsolete musical technology, analog synths, or references to great pop songs of the past, I have great news for you: The Shortwave Set has released their second album.

Who? you might ask. This Deptford, London trio writes effervescent pop songs inspired by artifacts from days gone by, like foppish Edwardian 78s, spy movies, cocksure glam, and swirly psychedelia. Their use of modern technology creates a compelling tension with their nostalgic approach to melody and songwriting. Their debut record, The Debt Collection, attracted a small but devoted following that included Danger Mouse of Gnarls Barkley. The genius producer flew the band to Los Angeles for a whirlwind six-week recording session that also featured pop wunderkind-turned-sideman to the stars Van Dyke Parks and John Cale of the Velvet Underground. The resulting album sounds like something Stereolab might have recorded in 1997 if they followed up Emperor Tomato Ketchup with a suite of warm, hallucinogenic tunes recorded in Robert Schneider’s Pet Sounds Studio.

The album opens with a suite of four songs that sweep the listener along on a cloud of melody and mood. From the eerie opener “Harmonia” to the film-noirish “House of Lies,” the band enhances a spooky mood with arrangements and production that contrast with the bright melodies and lyrical content. A percussive backwards guitar straight out of the theme from Peter Gunn alternates with a sepulchral choir in “Replica;” the song’s melody is so catchy that it’s easy to miss the lyrics, which sing lovingly of nuclear annihilation. Likewise, the drunken string quartet that weaves in and out of “House of Lies” is the musical equivalent of a Fellini parade marching through The Postman Always Rings Twice. It lends the creepy, serpentine melody a hint of wit.

These four songs and the single “Now Til ’69” open the album on such a high note but maintaining this level of quality throughout the album seems to have been a bit of a challenge. The album’s slinky second single “No Social”—a sinister portrait of Paris Hilton-like youth on the town—and the elegiac “Yesterdays to Come” are excellent, but the soggy ballads clustered around these chiming tunes, don’t quite play to the band’s euphoric pop strengths. The album would have benefitted from a stronger closing track than “The Downer Song,” which lives down to its name and then some.

If I’m really honest with myself, I can also say that the chorus for “House of Lies” strikes me as a bit hinky, since its melody is fairly close to the chorus from the Olivia Tremor Control’s “Sylvan Screen” but was not credited as such on the sleeve. The Shortwaves have folded some recognizable pop songs into their own tunes—dig the “Be-Bop-A-Lula” quote in “Now ‘Til ’69″—but after calling out Conor Oberst for stealing the melody from “O Comely,” I feel the need to draw attention to other artists who quote from the Elephant 6 Recording Company.

In spite of the wonky pacing and questionable musical quotes, Replica Sun Machine is full of catchy, eerie pop that brings me great joy whenever I hear it. Under most circumstances, I would recommend readers to hie thee to their closest retailer for optimum sonic happiness. Unfortunately, the album’s stateside release has been limited to intermittent leaks on iTunes that last about an hour or two, and frequent appearances on file-sharing services and Google Blogsearch. With Danger Mouse on board to produce The Shortwave Set’s third album, it would be great for this release to help them gain some new fans!

Additional Resources:

To listen to songs from Replica Sun Machine, please visit The Shortwave Set’s MySpace page.