Description:	CD EP on Moshi Moshi
	Format:	CD single
	Genre(s):	Indie Pop
	Label:	Moshi Moshi
	Price:	£4.69
	Availability:	In stock. Dispatched in 1 working day.

4
...according to our Brett on 28 August 2008.

This Slow Club 5 track mini-album is one of those '3" CDs inside a bit of plastic so it plays in any old CD player' jobs and it's called Let's Fall Back In Love. Initially this appears to be ridiculously happy and harmless, like a completely innocent and well-meaning church group singing about flan or something, but obviously there's a fine line between that and seeming like some sort of mental limb-amputating zombie cult and I'm not convinced they don't cross that line more than a few times during the course of this CD.. It's warm, gentle indie-pop with some quite cute lyrics that will no doubt appeal to those of you who love the WeePOP! stuff but I just can't shake the feeling that this lot might actually be dangerous.

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What their label says...

TRACKLISTING:
1. Lets Fall Back In Love 2. Come On Youth 3. Dance To The Morning Light
4. Summer Shakedown 5. Trick Question


OVERVIEW:
Boy-Girl vocals cast from fore to aft, rallies of skiffling beat, a delicate turn and rousing chorus; the ebullient delights of Slow Club.  With a brace of acclaimed singles under their belts and an eagerly anticipated album on the way, Slow Club release the Let’s Fall Back In Love EP on August 25th on Moshi Moshi.
For those familiar with the Sheffield duo the startling depth and colour of this EP will come as no surprise, for the rest here lies a treat.  The sing-along stomp Let’s Fall Back In Love, the galloping clarion call Come on Youth and the epic ‘arena-anti-folk’ of Summer Shakedown arrive as three widescreen vistas, punctuated by Charles’ country fried Dance To The Morning Light, and Rebecca’s ode to hanging on Trick Question, two dexterous soliloquies of admission and humour.
Live as on record, Charles and Rebecca enrapture audiences with the same involuntary joy and simplistic rush that they themselves imbue.  Charles with bruised vocal, a rasping guitar and disarming lightness of touch, casts unlikely wit against Rebecca’s angelic vocal and cheeky turn of phrase, amid her wild array of percussive apparatus including wooden chairs, glass bottles, and spoons.
These two are more than charming anti-folk troubadours or the lo-fi acoustic end of the Sheffield scene; they are the real thing.  That spontaneous intangible ‘thing’ that comes jumping of records and crackling off the stage, hanging crystalline for fleeting moments to confound and intrigue.