#17: Klaxons - Myths Of The Near Future (2007)

1. Two Receivers
2. Atlantis To Interzone
3. Golden Skans
4. Totem On The Timeline
5. As Above, So Below
6. Isle Of Her
7. Gravity's Rainbow
8. Forgotten Works
9. Magick
10. It's Not Over Yet
11. Four Horsemen Of 2012

(Yay for finishing reviews at 3 in the morning. Assignment? What assignment...)

What with all their award-winning and sold out tours, Klaxons probably don't need too much introduction, and there's no point in me blathering on about 'nu-rave' here: I do that enough in the actual review. Suffice to say that this is a great album with some (whisper it) unashamedly pop moments - if you haven't heard it yet, don't be put off by the hype.

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A lot of the noise surrounding Klaxons' debut album was concerned with the so-called genre of 'nu-rave': A supposed revival of the synth-fuelled, glowstick waving antics of the mid-90's. But the first song you hear doesn't sound like the sort of thing you'd hear in a rave at all. Building up from echoy drums into spooky keyboards, melodramatic pianos and a trio of haunting vocals, 'Two Receivers' is instead an ethereal slice of brilliance that not only serves as a fantastic opening gambit, but also as a direct challenge to those who thought that this album was going to be nothing more than a rave pastiche.

The bulk of the responsibility for such preconceptions must surely fall to 'Atlantis To Interzone': If there's one song that can be credited with the creation of 'nu-rave', then this is it. It's the sound of ridiculous sirens and synthetic 'oh-oh-oh's becoming cool again, a deranged three-minute thrill ride from sunken ruins to stateless cities and god-knows-where in between. 'Golden Skans' can also be considered to have had a hand in this, named as it is after a type of lighting projector. But it's actually a pop song through and through, from the breathy "Oooooooooh! Aaaah!"s that permeate the song to the fact that it's absolutely rammed with lyrical and musical hooks.

The band aren't afraid to getting a bit weird though, as they openly admit to being inspired by the likes of J.G. Ballard (indeed, the title of the album comes from a collection of short stories by the author). 'Totem On The Timeline' is some sort of bizarro-package holiday across time: "At club 18-30 I met Julius Caesar, Lady Diana and Mother Teresa!" go the lyrics, as buzzsaw guitars cut their way through the fourth dimension. 'As Above, So Below', on the other hand, sees the band gazing at the stars and contemplating cosmic movements, losing themselves in a space-age haze of inky blackness.

'Isle Of Her' could provide the soundtrack to a particularly post-modern production of Homer's Odyssey, methodical drums and a dirty bassline providing the backdrop to a ship of greek sailors rowing through some fanciful tale of myth. (Apparently it's based on a short story entitled 'Concerning The Cyclops And The Isle Of Her' by French absurdist writer Alfred Jarry. You learn something new every day.) Once again, the band follow this up with another complete contrast: 'Gravity's Rainbow' is the record's most shining pop moment, with notions of romance that transcend time and space - "Come with me, come with me, we'll travel to infinity... I'll always be there for you, my future love."

'Forgotten Works' is an aural adventure seemingly inspired by 80s adventure movies, or possibly The Legend Of Zelda: "Light the bridges with the lantern, you know something's going to happen..." warn the band in ethereal tones, as the music descends deeper and deeper into some mystical tomb. And if 'Forgotten Works' soundtracks the initial exploration, 'Magick' is the sound of the inevitable evil curse being unleashed: By the sound of it, it's the curse of nu-rave once again, with demented synths battering against your brain while the vocals are a possessed chant that increases in crazed fervour as the song reaches its climax.

'It's Not Over Yet', on the other hand, is the sound of old rave turned new (or should that be 'nu'?). Breathing fresh life into Grace's 1995 techno hit 'Not Over Yet', it turns the cheesy dance vibe of the original into something truly emotive and euphoric, with the band's guitars providing some much-needed weight to the tune as the synths blare out in one final fit of joy. And then after the song's fadeout, it really is over: 'Four Horsemen Of 2012' is the fully realised sound of nu-rave in its death throes, galloping through a cataclysmic nightmare before collapsing in a post-apocalyptic heap.

And so, with Myths Of The Near Future, Klaxons have invented, then killed off a genre in the space of 40 minutes. Not only that, but they've also provided a smattering of pop brilliance along the way, as well as demonstrating some more dynamically adventurous moments. So, while 'nu-rave' may just have been a frivolous joke that got taken far further than the band ever intended, the band have proven that they can transcend the hype: This is a collection of varied ideas that somehow fit together as a cohesive whole to create an excellent debut album. The concrete proof will come with the second record, but on this evidence, Klaxons should have the ability to stick around far longer than the genre they ironically spawned.