The Young Lovers – The Young Lovers

I first came across The Young Lovers by accident, as I downloaded an album sampler from RCRD LBL – having completely forgotten about what it was or where it came from, I was shocked and amazed when I found that these jazzy, funky grooves had come from Joshua “Hervé” Harvey, famous for his squelchy basslines and cut-up hoover sounds.

You Make Me Dizzy, the album’s opener, lays a dancing piano line over shuffling jazzy beats, slightly reminiscent of MJ Cole’s Sincere. The next track takes down the tempo, and for some reason it calls to mind those ubiquitous chillout compilations from about 10 years ago, with its simple bassline, swooping strings and mournful oboe solo, as a crackle of vinyl lends a further air of nostalgia to the proceedings. This is no bad thing – just recently I dug out the first disc of Pete Gooding’s Cafe Mambo compilation, which soundtracked warm summer days and nights, school trips to Greece and wintry bus journeys during which I longed for nicer weather. Elsewhere, Harvey dabbles in salsa beats and melodies, slow, smokey sax grooves, and even a hint of funky beach house. As he says himself on his Myspace blog, “it’s more for headphones and holidays than banging clubs.” This is indeed an album that begs to be played in good weather.

The first hint of Hervé’s usual style of production comes with Love You Madly, which kicks off with a beat that would fit in perfectly on his Machines Don’t Care album – if it was sped up a bit. More screeching sax follows, before a cut up voice repeatedly utters the words “love you madly”. It’s probably the only track that would fit in a club set, at least in one played by the sort of DJs who favour Hervé’s signature wonky sound.

The album’s inlay card doesn’t say much, save for a border that repeats the words “let me tell ya’ what da’ blues is” – and this makes all the more sense when one reaches You Got The Down South, a sultry number over which is spluttered a monologue about “what da’ blues is.” The blues is, apparently, not having any money, not having anything. But then, when you haven’t got anything, you haven’t anything about which to be worried. It’s all a bit reminiscent of Gershwin’s I Got Plenty o’ Nuttin’, and believe me, that is never a comparison I expected to make.

I can only reiterate that this is a lovely summer album, one which will make most sense on balmy, sunny days. It’s a joyous affair, which I would hardly have expected from someone whose previous output has been so resolutely focused on the dancefloor. Check it out.