Thrills

The impulse to dislike the Thrills is achingly strong. A group of Irishmen playing SoCal beach pop under lyrics that blazon the band’s Americana fetish can’t sit too well with anyone valuing verity. But under all the mimicry there sits a genuinely talented and innocent group doing what, one guesses, they’ve always wanted to do. With Let’s Bottle Bohemia, off-white clouds occasionally cloak the interminable sunshine of last year’s So Much for the City, making for a slight diversion despite the band’s best efforts to make parts of "Faded Beauty Queen” sound just like "Don’t Steal Our Sun.” After which, the pretty but predictable "Saturday Night” maintains interest until "You Can’t Fool Old Friends with Limousines” pops up. As the title confirms, it’s a trite sack of bilge. It’s also the point where you realise that you’re listening to a tautology — individually, these songs would sound beautiful, but when listened to as an album they get successively less necessary. On their quest to create their own Pet Sounds, the Thrills would do well to realise that the Beach Boys didn’t make theirs by repeating the past.