Album Review: Sounds from nowheresville The Ting Tings

The rush of pop perfection is an intoxicating allure. That winning recipe of simple songs that unified both pop fans and the cooler-than-thou crowd was rampant on The Ting Tings' massive 2008 debut; Katie White and Jules De Martino had it all going on. On their sophomore effort, opener Silence makes the hairs on the back of the neck stand straight to attention, White calling fans and detractors alike to march with them or forever hold their peace. Hit Me Down Sonny is an expansion on the smack-talk used so anthemically on That's Not My Name. It's not quite as grandiose as their globe-conquering hit, but it lulls one into pure excitement for the Ting's return.

The duo decamped to Berlin for Sounds From Nowheresville, intentionally becoming isolated from outside influences and ditching anything that sounded familiar to millions. Unfortunately, that's where they trip up, as from just the third track the album takes clumsy sidesteps, flitting from dubstep to indie to more smack-talk and so forth, foregoing several opportunities to deliver cracking choruses just for the sake 'doing something different'. The magic is lost as quickly and spectacularly as it arrived. Guggenheim is one of several examples that sound like they weren't even in the same room for recording, White resigned to whining over half-finished prog-blues.

It's really quite upsetting when one thinks fondly of the riches found on We Started Nothing. The last four songs sound increasingly loveless, finishing on the drably maudlin In Your Life, which provokes nought but desire to put something else on. A crying shame, for just 30 minutes previously, there was a real sense of excitement that something great was once again going to happen.