Canadian musical collective Hooded Fang’s UK debut is one of those brilliant albums that does exactly what it says on the sleeve. Plastered with images of rainbow coloured Mexican wrestling masks and titled after a Portuguese grilled sandwich, the record is both light hearted and tongue in cheek. The songs may all be based around the painful breakup of two Hooded Fang members, but the sound is evocative of summer sunshine and parties on the beach – clean, bright indie pop mixed with ’60s garage and a whiff of Tiki kitsch. Surf guitar and vintage organ strains, touched by the merest hint of reverb, dance over go-go drums and cleverly dry lyrics about heartbreak. There’s also the odd musical interlude between tracks; a vaguely twee, utterly apt nod to 1960’s retro, which ties the record together and is likely to promote spontaneous bouts of dancing.

By Polly Rappaport

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