To paraphrase Grace Slick, "If you can remember the 80s, you never suffered any serious head trauma." Ladytron remember the 80s very, very well. These youngsters fly the new wave flag and keep feeling fascination, passion burning, love so strong. But Ladytron's musical interests stretch back before MTV, to 70s Bowie, Roxy Music, Kraftwerk and Cluster. They're like an unabridged Encyclopedia of musical Eurotrash with a sharp pop sensibility. And with 604, they've made a fine debut full-length.
I had a pronounced tinge of déja vu when listening to 604, but it wasn't the retro sound that made me feel like I'd been here before; it was the fact that three of the songs here were on the band's four-song Commodore Rock EP. Looks like they missed the memo from the Department of Redundancy Department. Don't you hate that? You probably didn't buy Commodore Rock, though, so you're not going to mind the overlap. In fact, if this is the first time you're hearing "Play Girl", you'll be damn glad they decided to include it on both their releases. It's an ace pop song that Allen Hunter would have been proud to announce the world premiere of, and it would have sounded great between Nena's "99 Luftballons" and "He Was Really Sayin' Somethin'" by Bananarama and Fun Boy Three. Great stuff.
"Play Girl" is sung by Helen Marnie, and with her relaxed, breathy tone, she's definitely the more engaging of Ladytron's two vocalists. "Another Breakfast with You" is another great track she fronts, with a fat Moog drone that gives it the feel of early Stereolab. "The Way That I Found You" is the third major score for Marnie, with a bouncy, anthemic melody over some dark, Naked Eyes-style keyboards. These three songs approach new wave pop perfection.
Mira Aroya is around to give the more "arty" tracks a serious Continental flair. Her deep, Bulgarian-accented voice is used both for humor (as with "Paco!", where she offers a tour of a department store over a dense electro background) and to provide a dark, gothic element to the background (as on "Discotrax"). When Aroya and Marnie come together to sing the Kraftwerk homage "He Took Her to a Movie", which borrows its melody and hook from "The Model", both slip into robotic Ralf and Florian mode with excellent results.
Rounding out the album are several instrumentals that range from dreamy computer love ambience ("CSKA Sofia" could be from the second side of Autobahn) to dense analog synth textures in the style of Add N to (X) ("Laughing Cavalier"). The tracks on 604 are sequenced intelligently and keep this slightly overlong album purring along nicely. Latter-day new wave may be old hat, but there's still room for it when it's done right. Enter Ladytron.
