You know when you’re up there, right up there, on the lip of elation? You daren’t think there could ever be a purer happiness, you’re like a dog with his head out the window of a pimped monster truck thundering down the north face of the Eiger, endorphins whistling through your whiskers like darts of pleasure. Thomas Tantrum look pitifully down on you and your stunted emotions. You make them sad. What are you, dead inside? This is a remarkably (REMARKABLY!!!) giddy, gleefully enraptured, rosy-cheeked hormonally explosive album, churning the act-first-think-later philosophy of first album CSS and the bold eye-lash fluttering art-rock sentiments of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs into something as awkward and electric as the London 2012 logo, only millions of pounds less annoying. They seemingly never get out of bed the wrong side, heeding us to conclude they must reside together on one of those enormous circular affairs supping red bull cocktails and pillow fighting. This is non-stop. ‘Rage Against The Tantrum’ is like Lovefoxxx holding Elastica ransom, marching them round the locked room carnival style just for kicks, ‘Work It’ is indie disco single of the year shuffling above the national speed limit like Be Your Own Pet with the Ting Tings in a headlock, the bassline of ‘Swan Lake’ will seduce you but beware of its intentions and album highlight ‘Shake It! Shake It!’ (exclamation points entirely necessary) is a ticker-tape parade of melody in spite of a more than passing likeness to Sleeper. Yes, so it seems there are some moments included here for the pure fact that they had too much momentum and couldn’t stop in time, but it is fun all the way to the finish line and where’s the harm in that?