Maxïmo Park: A Certain Trigger

Maxïmo Park may be a few minutes late to the UK dance-rock/post-punk resurgence party, but the band has forged itself an irresistible invitation in A Certain Trigger, a twitchy, confident debut that squints longingly at 1979 without holding its sounds holy. The album—released, strangely, by the experimental electronica boosters at Warp Records—follows the impossible-to-ignore single "Apply Some Pressure," a song so bright and viral that it runs the risk of dulling everything around it. Fortunately for A Certain Trigger's sum, it's nestled smack in the middle of half a dozen songs that vie urgently for as much attention. Like the most exciting young bands—and like occasional comparison point Bloc Party—Maxïmo Park seems eager to trip over itself in search of the next rush.

The album's 13 songs flash by in 40 minutes, but it feels like 20. "Signal And Sign," like much of A Certain Trigger, tilts heavily toward The Jam, capturing a youthful yet world-weary, working-class British vibe with insistent guitars and endearingly accented words. Paul Smith lets his Newcastle-Upon-Tyne flag fly on the brilliant "The Coast Is Always Changing" with a declaration of youthful misdirection that sounds more like "I am yoong and I am lust" than "I am young and I am lost." (He also manages to insert the word "riposte" in a three-minute pop song, adding greatly to the clever quotient.) "Graffiti," another single, recalls Inspiral Carpets, and it may be the only song to do so in years.

It isn't all wildfire, though: "Going Missing" puts across regret without being sentimental, and Smith's lyrics ("I sleep with my hands across my chest / And I dream of you with someone else") are simple but purposeful. Elsewhere, Maxïmo Park turns up the pop setting, getting bouncy and show-tuney with the piano-pounding "Now I'm All Over The Shop." The penultimate track, "Acrobat," with its deliberate slow burn, shifts gears all the way down, echoing R.E.M.'s "Belong" with a spoken-word bit that, shockingly, never feels contrived. In a field crowded with dangerously aloof players, Maxïmo Park sets itself apart by embracing the often-ignored warm-blooded side of the post-punk rebirth. The band aims and fires A Certain Trigger with wiry passion, wearing its heart on its sleeves without sacrificing fruitful friction. When it hits the mark—which is too often to ignore—it's exhilarating.