Here’s a question for you. How on earth do you pick from the plethora of bright and spunky indie guitar bands out there’ The Libertines set a standard, to split and evolve into Dirty Pretty Things and Babyshables. Of course Razorlight are equally trail-blazing, the Kooks have made a cracking start, and the ubiquitous Arctic Monkeys achieve it in both popularist and cool stakes. It was a lot easier to be credible a decade back when dance music ruled the roost, and guitars weren’t de rigueur. So now it’s a surfeit of choice, and bewilderment of selection.

So unless you’ve missed the hype of this latest ‘sensation’, there’s three of them, they come from Glasgow, and they are like the Ramones. In as much as they are Jon, Barry, and Mince Fratelli and have taken on a fraternal relationship that even their mothers didn’t know about. Their sounds have a similar bouncy Ramones-ish comparison, yet a lot more polished than of yore. Top notch producer Tony Hoffer has seen to that, but it’s all still earthy enough to be credible.

The bouncy start that is ‘Henrietta’ is immediately attractive, hugely fun, and if it were any more tongue in cheek, then you’d be choking. The gal becomes a virtual mascot for the band indeed. ‘Flathead’ is naturally whimsical, with an insanely nagging bass-line and wriggling positivity that shows Britpop at its best. ‘Whistle For The Choir’ has the same innocent fun that was on the first Supergrass album. Even the jangly Greek guitaring and careless whistle seem to work. It all seems to be just so easy for them.

‘For The Girl’ is what the Libertines could have done when they were in short trousers. A joyous naivety with any baggage tossed. The same sort of jaunty passion on ‘Creepin Up The Backstairs’. Carl and Pete reminiscing again perhaps, or an essence of why the Arctic Monkeys really made it. (The music that is, not the hype.)

The tendency to be intense in your music has overwhelmed too many bands who take it all too seriously or try to unnaturally turn on the cool. Yes it’s the day-job, but there are some who try a little too hard. The Frats strength is an innate take-it-or leave-it attitude. That this is a few songs that they came up with last night and recorded whilst they were still in their heads. That if they did it again tomorrow, then it would be another dozen tracks altogether.

The artwork is retro, the music too. No cut and paste style inserts, but a sympathetic reverence with disarming honesty. True courage also by including the country twang at the start of ‘Vince The Loveable Stoner’, and the twiddly guitar tweak keeps it nicely silly. A combination of deft production and good ideas make for an album with character and personality, with not a duff track here.

The irony is that for all their carefree delivery and natural appeal, there’s still something intangible lacking in the results. Experience, or even soul perhaps. Instant attraction and throwaway appeal works both ways, so we may have to wait till next time for longevity. The matter of a glob of other bands with similar trademarks doesn’t help their cause either. These guys are a disarmingly new group with almost no past, and whilst five years of out-the-back-of-a-van gigging doesn’t necessarily make for a great band, it does allow for indefinable growth.

Ultimately this CD all sounds great, with all the right bits in the right places. Yet without wanting to curse obvious talent, and despite the wad of cash thrown at them in the production process, they may not yet make it as the Next Big Thing, nor the heir apparent to sliced bread. However they are a marvellous interlude to feast on until that comes along. And cheeky. Very, very cheeky.

Neil Chase
Music Editor