No Kids Come Into My House

No Kids’ debut is everything it claims to be: an elegant amalgam of disparate musical genres, diverse instrumentation and warm beats. A mellow, sophisticated touch is the unifying factor, as Come Into My House runs the gamut from ’20s cabaret to indie rock to (a very listenable take on) MOR rock. At a time when every new band seem to be drenched in neon, it’s refreshing to see clean-cut No Kids (who’ve all come from Vancouver’s P:ano) looking dapper and down-to-earth. Their harmonies are immaculate and their sound is clean and catchy, and this makes the few tracks in which the band cop a Justin Timberlake delivery all the more confounding. It’s like french fries at the Four Seasons: either is fine but they’re never meant to happen together. At the very least, these tracks might provide a buffer against an otherwise asexual image. Come Into My House is a very charming debut and No Kids are certainly a promising act. If they stop indulging their guilty pleasures, they’ll be terrific. (Tomlab)