During one episode of the second series of I'm Alan Partridge, the character played by Steve Coogan (I forget his name) reads a recommendation on the back of his book from none other than Shakin' Stevens: "Lovely Stuff." As truly banal as that panegyric is, I can't think of a more fitting description for `No Way Down' by Swedish duo Air France. Invoking an almost tangible picture of sunsets and long walks along the seashore, it's a summer album that cuts through cynicism and frigidity to stir up a warm wave of long lost tenderness and desire. It's the kind of contagiously vibrant record that seems scientifically engineered to induce the maximum youthfully emotive response, and it does so repeatedly, via a colourful and varied breed of hook-infested electronica. Look no further for your summer people, because Air France have it right here.
With `Maundy Thursday' it gets off to a melancholic and cautious start however, with a foreboding, siren-like synth melody ushering in primordially stirring electronic strings and a beautifully simple and naļve piano refrain. In the background suitably astral effects twinkle in an obscure and teasing mood, and the whole thing gives the intriguing impression that summer is a time of weighty, even severe importance. The next track ups the tempo somewhat with a medium-paced beat, and if anyone regards the connotation of the album with summer as suspiciously lazy, the title alone should be enough to convince them otherwise. Yet despite the emerging energy `June Evenings' still contains a trace of wistfulness, and its sweat-soaked synths, reverb-spangled guitars and resonantly mobile bass throb with an indomitable appetite for something more passionate in life.
A properly upbeat and hopeful disposition establishes itself on track 4, `No Excuses.' Here, the danceable beat is more insistent and accompanied by automatically affirmative handclaps, the sampled strings zip and fly, and the vivacious keyboard melody seems to be the aural equivalent of the type of person who goes around parties hugging everyone within reach. In the midst of this love fest a male vocal resolutely proclaims "No excuses left," urging everyone to make a stand and fight for what they believe in (doing what exactly I don't know). It may be slightly saccharine to the more discriminating connoisseur, but there's no denying the potency of Air France's euphoric aesthetic when you have it blasting in your face at a high volume.
And there's no denying the creative diversity and invention of their music either. `Windmill Wedding' is opposed to much of the other songs on the album by virtue of its hazy, meandering structure and more organic focus on piano, strings and guitar, yet it still packs an almost devastatingly gorgeous punch. This comes in the form of a coda of strummed acoustic guitar, the delicate warmth of which is worthy of My Bloody Valentine near or at their best (although it's not fuzzy and distorted like MBV). Forgive me, but I really can't harp on about this one particular moment enough; it sounds poignantly distant and dreamy, and the atmospheric embellishments of birdsong, church bells and hummed female vocals only make it more tormenting in its near-infinite beauty. Simply on its own it's enough to justify the existence of the album.
But there's more to `No Way Down.' For its UK release Something in Construction have added Air France's debut EP `On Trade Winds,' which is a dancier affair than the six songs that precede it, yet no less affecting. `Karibien' is a propulsive steamroller of a number full of rapturous synths and longing, breathy female vocals. `Beach Party,' with its shimmering guitar, steel drums and yearning bass, is redolent of the tropics and its long humid nights. And closer `Never Content' is an affectionate paean to the fragile dreams of youth, one driven by a nostalgic keyboard line and wide-eyed wind instruments.
The only warning that needs to be kept in mind when listening to `No Way Down' is that it can be too blissful, too touching, too lovely; most would be liable to find that their own routines are dreary and even depressing by comparison to the rich tones Air France deal in. But then again, that's never stopped anyone from listening to music in the past, so why should it now? (Simon Chander)
For fans of: The Knife, The Avalanches, The Tough Alliance, Daedelus, Manitoba, The Go! Team, Telefon Tel Aviv