The Ting Tings - 'We Started Nothing' (Sony BMG) Released: 18/05/08

“The drums, the drums, the drums, the drums, the drums, the drums, the drums, the drums, the drums”. It begins with ‘Great DJ’. Say what you like about The Ting Tings but they certainly know how to make a first impression, the opening track of their debut LP is a playful, electro utopian pop knockout, like a Soulwax Nite Versions remix of Girls Aloud, capturing and celebrating the simple uninhibited hedonism of the dance floor. We are pleased to meet you, what did you say your name was again? 

Of course, by now you would have needed to decamp to Alaska to try and survive with grizzly bears to not know all about this Salford duo. Katie White and Jules De Martino have rapidly escalated their status to be the most photogenic, audacious (you can’t argue with knocking Madonna and Timberlake off the singles top spot with ‘That’s Not my Name’) and downright divisive pop concern of this year.

Speaking of that number one single, despite conducting simultaneous daylight robbery on M.I.A and The Knack it somehow retains some original charm though if it is destined to be a one-off novelty hit, their ‘Echo Beach’, remains to be seen. One thing is certain: despite their much documented past trials and tribulations with the music industry, their timing and sense of precision is impeccable this time and it would take a cold heart to begrudge their success and not recognise this as credible pop for the attention deficit generation.

Unfortunately, this approach also rapidly begins to work against them and ‘We Started Nothing’ begins to fulfil its own nihilistic declaration by becoming largely unmemorable after the opening trilogy of tracks. ‘Fruit Machine’ teaches the B52’s a few lessons about how they should have staged their recent comeback, De Martino’s impressive production and concoction of fiery beats and treats underpinning White’s joyously silly cries of “Kerching!” It is effortless, fun and endlessly replayable- everything that pop music can and should be. It is also arguably the last moment on the album to speak the language of invention and imagination to any degree and what follows is all the more disappointing for the initial trilogy’s promise of achieving a modern realignment of smart, hook laden pop.         

Despite this, The iPod sound tracking ‘Shut Up and Let Me Go’ is like Blondie at their very best, playing to a Chic backing track. It is knowingly dumb and sassy, a rabbit out of the hat moment set to ignite Indie discos across the globe. Sadly, these moments are few and far between and you may well be soon hop, skipping and jumping back to tracks 1-3 and wondering why such pure thrills are in such short supply.

By the time of the generic playground chants of ‘We Walk’ and ‘Be the One’ step forward, the LP is starting to try too hard and you may well be screaming out loud at the duo to play to their strengths (fun, simple, pop) and lamenting the premature disappearance of a pop alchemy that has now given way to a sub-Bis travesty.  

Despite admiring their D.I.Y insistence at recording the album on a low budget in Salford with De Martino on production duties, you can’t help but wonder what the right producer may have brought to the mix. Certainly, such a presence may have brought more necessary tension and killer pop out to play. As it happens, in a year so far lacking in an abundance of truly classic LPs, it proves to be another disposable, one dimensional effort with three, maybe four great songs. Your consolation prize is that you can dance around your room to the repetitively brilliant ‘Great DJ’ again and again. The drums, the drums, the drums, the drums…