Why the Danish trio Mew have not scaled the heights of their stylistic peers is a mystery. And if their fifth album performs like all the others in the UK - where they have yet to penetrate the Top 100 - somebody should order a public inquiry. Combining, by turns, the bombastic exuberance of Muse, the psychedelic dreaminess of Flaming Lips and the soaring grandiosity of Sigur Ros, No More Stories is as thrillingly "alternative" as rock ever gets. If you're the sort who likes to cherry-pick albums for favourite tracks, look away now. The only respect in which Mew's latest sounds old-fashioned is in its confidence that an album must justify itself as a cohesive body of work. It opens with a jaunty melody, New Terrain, which floats above swirling layers of synths and guitars that appear to have been recorded backwards. And so they were. Like a reversible item of clothing, New Terrain turns into another song, Nervous, when listened to back to front. Too clever by half? However much Mew might favour the odd competing time signature and weird vocal segue, longer songs such as Cartoons and Macrame Wounds keep a firm grip on their heavenly harmonies. Their one blind spot is the lyrics, which make little sense, even on the sleeve. Likewise, the song titles - Silas the Magic Car, Introducing Palace Players - seem to have been chosen at random. Perhaps that is their point. For Mew, music is, first and last, an inexhaustible paintbox of sound. And boy, do they make you pay attention.
BMG 88697199422