Trash Can Sinatras - Cake

Go ahead. Choke on your bran flakes. Pass coffee through your nose. Spit-take your OJ. I don't care.

Just about the most charming, clever and perfect album of brit pop ever produced. It has taken its knocks over the years, but still sounds effervescent and infused with the joy of making pop. Just about as stunning a pop debut as you're likely ever to hear.

Throw it on the ipod and spin it up as the first warm day of spring emerges. Slip into the car, roll down the windows, ease the volume up and, as the first leaves bud their way out of cold hibernation, let yourself slip into a blissfully enchanted land of earcandy. Bonus points if you sadly reminisce about the one that got away.

amg:
Long before Travis and Coldplay came along, the Trash Can Sinatras enchanted college-aged Anglophiles with their jangly brand of emotive Brit-pop. Seen as musical fluff by fans of early-'90s pre-Nirvana alternative and ignored by fans of mid- to late-'90s post-Nirvana alternative, these five Scottish lads smoothed the edges but sharpened the hooks of a developing genre. The Trash Can Sinatras' 1990 debut, Cake, mixes intricately intertwined guitars, in the spirit of a more charming, less gritty Johnny Marr, with lush strings and sophisticated harmonies. Touchingly clever wordplay ("You came into my life/Like a brick through a window/And I cracked a smile") abounds, as on "The Best Man's Fall." The clean production — necessary for such elaborate orchestration — is extremely warm and inviting. Singles like "Obscurity Knocks" and "Only Tongue Will Tell" as well as "Maybe I Should Drive" prove to be the tastiest pieces of pure pop pleasure. But sugar can be bittersweet and laced with longing, as on "Thrupenny Tears" and "You Made Me Feel." Regardless of the relative mood, this debut is noticeably devoid of musical missteps — quite a feat for a new artist. Easy on the ears and palate, Cake is as filling and digestible an album as one could hope. Subsequent Trash Can Sinatras releases reach for the same greatness but ultimately fall a little short. This precursor to early 21st century Brit-pop darkens the occasional used record store bin. And it tastes almost as fresh as the day it was made.
"
I like your poetry
but I hate your poems.

And if you don't give a damn
You're welcome to keep it

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