It's a backstory you couldn't possibly escape: This past Valentine's Day, Michael Angelakos opted out of throwing down the coin for some chocolates, teddy bears, or a copy of Love Actually. A little on the late side, he instead recorded for his girlfriend the lion's share of the lap-pop serenade, Chunk of Change. Friends were excited by what they heard, a band was born, a record deal signed.
Defined as much by its lyrical prism and Angelakos' falsetto (more on that later) as its gooey textures, Chunk of Change walks the line between beat-driven, Hot Chip floor geeking and twee atmospherics. And while he gave his band the name of a 1980s skin flick, Angelakos' production mirrors the more cuddly bent that sparked the project: synths are Downy-soft, blankets of melodic skin that expand alongside their oversized choruses. More significantly, it suggests a certain level of un-self-conscious pop versatility. You can gyrate. You can navelgaze. You can shiver. You can cringe.
It's a sonic ethos that fits much of Angelakos' lyrical Lloyd Dobler-ing well. Opener "I've Got Your Number" is a clear standout, its synthetic handclaps and high frequency whirring offer a prime framework for introducing the dude's voice and poetry. Depending on your emotional constitution or complexion, the latter can be, understandably, something of a turn-off. As is the case with the less propulsive material here, most time is spent nose-to-nose with turns like "Have you seen me cry tears like diamonds? Down and down they fly, faster and faster," or "Whatever happens to you, whatever happens to me, I hope that I'll fall asleep knowing that you'll always be the story with no ending." But you can't fault a guy for loving someone his way. Given the notion that Angelakos initially expected just one person to really listen, the record benefits heavily from that which a lot of us look for in sound or elsewhere: emotional authenticity.
If anything, the EP's major flaw is also a gamebreaker. Angelakos' falsetto flirts dangerously with histrionics at times, the breathy swings of "Cuddle Fuddle" or forgettable disco-pop of "Better Things" are two examples of his pipes at their most distracting. He can veer way off course for sure, but when matching the movement and mood of his own textures, his exuberance can be narcotic. "Sleepyhead" is the one addition not included on the original mixtape and it hints at savvier, more muscular vibrations coming down the pipeline (a full-length is slated for early 2009). Also the EP's shortest and most infectious moment, it's a tipsy, bass-heavy Cristal bath with the likes of Mannheim Steamroller and Ginuwine. I think it's about a girl.
