In my day job, I once got into a discussion with a major company about their brand image. "We want," said their representative, "to own happiness." He was so affable that I didn't realize right away how sinister it sounded. Watch the video for "Fascination", Alphabeat's breakout European hit, and you might think they're playing the same game. It's a dayglo grin-a-thon so unreservedly perky that you scrabble desperately for some kind of side to it, some hidden agenda. Nobody, surely, can have this much pep?
The Danish pop outfit have recently relocated to London, a wildly successful move. With bands like Scouting for Girls and the Hoosiers, Britain has rediscovered a taste for naggingly upbeat pop. Those bands tend to find a barely adequate hook and whip it till it coughs blood: Alphabeat in comparison are masters of sophistication and craft. "Fascination"'s pre-chorus would be the centrepiece of most songs; its real chorus is a juggernaut; and the song hits a supremely giddy peak with its back-and-forth middle eight. "The word is on your lips-- say the word!" Everybody does. There's something a little rote about its celebratory woah-ho-hos, but "Fascination" is still one hell of a calling card.
It's also the only track to survive unaltered from Alphabeat's first draft of this debut, a self-titled album that came out in Denmark a year and a half ago. Three of its songs have vanished entirely from This Is Alphabeat, and the band have re-recorded and re-arranged others. The effect has been to transform a well-turned power-pop record-- which attracted approving blogosphere comparisons to the New Pornographers-- into a strange kind of mid-80s wax museum.
"Boyfriend" offers the clearest example. On the Danish album, it's keyboard-driven new wave pop-- the lead vocal has some of Cyndi Lauper's spiky relish, the backing chants nod to Big Country. On This Is Alphabeat, it's mid-80s eurodance, canned bell and brass presets bubbling in the background and Stine Bramsen is doing a Sam Fox impression, softer and more come-hither. Finally, the new single remix is late-80s hi-NRG, like a lost collaboration between Kylie Minogue and the Pet Shop Boys. This perfectly observed mix happens to be my favorite Alphabeat thing by miles, but it can't quite dispel the impression that there's something a little hollow about a song which changes its period costume so quickly and liberally.
Other refixes are less successful. "Rubber Boots", brooding and endearingly odd on the original, is shinier but draggier here. "What Is Happening?" ruins its desperate break-up bounce with a pancake of unnecessary strings-- but by now I'm so wary of Alphabeat's retro expertise that I wonder if this sabotage isn't somehow deliberate, a pastiche of New Pop's meltdown into overproduction.
It's not all bad news: Throwing dance-pop into the mix may have diffused Alphabeat's focus, but they do it very well-- new tracks "Go Go" and "Touch Me Touching You" are highlights, the latter's sequencer overdrive and falsetto a delightfully demented moment on a rather well-choreographed record. Their fine work is slightly wasted by a bubblegum take on PIL's "Public Image"-- a jolly wheeze in principle, let down by John Lydon's baffling decision not to give his venomous comeback blast a jaunty melody.
So why did Alphabeat tinker with a solid record to make this curate's egg? The last Danish group to make it big worldwide were Aqua, and certainly the Alphabeat video experience can feel like a vanilla version of "Barbie Girl"'s kindergarten craziness. They would have been tagged as retro anyhow, and this version of their debut presses more nostalgic buttons than its tighter Danish sibling did. On the evidence of the "Boyfriend" remix and the new tracks, if their time machine got stuck in 1987 they could make a more diverting album. But This Is Alphabeat feels labored, sacrificing identity in its endless eagerness to please.
