Credit: Found On Internet

‘Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga’ starts off like waking up in the morning, all subdued and murmourous. With ‘Don’t Make Me A Target’, it creaks and stretches itself conscious with a series of laid-back licks. Then suddenly it jerks up a gear, like it suddenly looked at its alarm clock and realised that it’s an hour later than it suspected.

Spoon aren’t afraid to let their instruments, rather than the vocals, carry a song. If Bowie had ever mixed just a touch of matador music in with his ‘Heroes’-era output, it would’ve touched on the same ideas as ‘Japanese Cigarette Case’. Spoon have enough confidence in their song to drop lyrics for most of the song, and to let their instruments stand alone for consideration. And it never feels like they’re doing this out of fear.

Because Britt Daniel’s vocals aren’t just tacked-on, like some musical post-it note to the milkman. His unwillingness to commit to a set style of delivery gives the reggae skiffle of ‘Eddie’s Ragga’ a delivery similar to Cake. And the brassy, ballsy gusto of ‘The Underdog’ practically demands to be stomped along to down busy streets, every now and again with a little hop and a hell click.

Much of the album’s strength lies from its willingness to skate close to the cringeworthy, without slipping in too far -  for one horrible moment it almost goes all Supertramp for ‘The Ghost Of You Lingers’. Luckily it always keeps its head above all that and keeps it slightly spaced-out.

The album is a grower, not a shower. It doesn’t saunter into the room, clicking its fingers, demanding service and forcing itself into being the centre of attention. It’s more like an aural buffet, with nothing shrieking out for special attention, allowing the listener feast on the album however they choose.

‘Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga’ is out now on Merge Records.