Fuck Art, Let's Dance! – Atlas

While the banner the Hamburg quartet fly under may not rank among the best, (see also: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah) they have an admirable, if obvious, m.o. that they adhere to on their debut album, Atlas. In case the on-the-nose-ness wasn’t enough, basically, these guys punt for fun. Rather than getting bogged down in the nitty-gritty of existentialist grief and/or the philosophy of ‘why?’, the foursome opt for a simpler approach – all they want to do is get bodies throbbing in time, sweating on dancefloors and bringing the party back to pop. It’s not Splenda-sweet twee pep – FALD! delve into the tribulations of love, life ‘n’ loss (that holy trifecta of pop) – but it’s got an earnest optimism. There’s no use scratching away beneath the skin on their first LP as what you hear is what you get. Back-to-basics, hook-laden boogie fuel.

Most contextual comparisons situate the band among Friendly Fires, Everything Everything, (early) Foals and all that kind of squiddly-diddly guitar indie that relies on insane fretwork, disco beats and the odd glitch of ‘80s synth. It’s heavy on melodic aspects, and it’s impossible to remain still as the band unleash their rhythmic spells. Atlas is primed to strike at the core of a weekend’s vitality – the night out. Whether you’re throwing some elaborate gala at your own pad, or trekking out into the metropolitan wastes to a drinking establishment; whether you’re in intimate company or bustling gatherings, Atlas has all the ingredients.

“We’re Maniacals!” blends grizzled synthesiser harmonies with ‘70s drum grooves and pure rock riffs. “Sense” soars, a summery belter like Theme Park, chock full of ‘oohs’ on breezy funk licks and shuffling percussion. “Talisman”, bleeping with 8-bit serenity, is like vacationing on a SoCal beach rendered by Sega, while “Deja-vu” peels back the glossy facade for a kind of NYC art-punk grit – Karen O would cover it wonderfully. Though they don’t stretch the boundaries of their style, there are subtle differences throughout that ensure interest doesn’t waver over the duration.

The band are helping champion a new wave of sound from Germany – or at least to British ears anyway. This couldn’t be more fun, or lack more pretence – it tends to get a bit formulaic structurally, but when you’ve got a good thing going, don’t mess with it. Rallying against “gig zombies” appears to be the impetus for Atlas’ creation – it’s the same reason Fuck Art, Let’s Dance! are here in the first place – and Hamburg’s finest hit their mark with aplomb, giving us some rapier-sharp indie-pop that makes your limbs flail like a ragdoll trying to balance on a jackhammer.