The Hot Puppies - 'Under The Crooked Moon' (Fierce Panda) Released 24/07/06

As much as we adore The Hot Puppies and their strikingly decadent sound, comparing them to everything from “David Bowie singing the ‘Grease’ soundtrack” to “Blondie dancing the tango with Karen O”, there was always a sneaking suspicion that theirs would be a name cruelly overlooked in the Summer scrum; their pouting, transcendent odes to heartbreak unfairly caught between the (still) zeitgeist hugging sound John Harris recently called “the modern melange of Bacardi Breezers, riot vans and Chinese-food stains” on one end, and at the other, the near-perfect girl-leaning pop of The Pipettes. That was before, in a welcome surprise akin to finding out that Legoland is a real country, we found The Hot Puppies in The Guardian touted as “the next big thing”. It’s the reverse of indie snobbery: wanting and hoping that the bands who captivated you from the very beginning achieve the success they deserve.

And deserve they most definitely do. Debut album ‘Under The Crooked Moon’ is thirteen tracks of the sexiest, resignation-laced guitar-noir the year is likely to bring, essaying everyone from Mariella Frostrup to Pulp, silent-film actress Theda Bara to The Marvelettes.

The most fascinating lyricists are arguably those that avoid self-pity whilst still laying bare a conscience of desperate in-security, beating themselves down as they write some contradictorily startling music (Morrissey is the first example off the top of our head). Guitarist Luke Taylor, the band’s main songwriter, definitely fits this bill; there’s a tangible streak of despair that runs throughout ‘Under The Crooked Moon’ that will surprise anyone who thought The Hot Puppies were only good for the dancefloor. Yet it’s only the sensually melodramatic vocals of Becki Newman that really bring these narratives of loneliness and lust to life, to the extent that it’s easy to believe these songs are actually about her, such is the character she invests into the likes of opening track, and debut single, ‘Terry’. Initially declaring her love for Terry, by the chorus he is ultimately declared as being “no good for me”. The issue as to whether it’s him or her with the inferiority complex is decided by the xylophone-led ‘The Bottled Ship Song’ and it’s lyric “I feel like a ship in a bottle” (that’ll be her then), the jealous power play of ‘The Girl Who Was Too Beautiful’ and the self-explanatory ‘Heartbreak Soup’. It all culminates with ‘How Come You Don’t Love Me No More’, which sets the crushing realisation felt of a fading relationship to an escalating mantra of keyboards and feedback.

But just when the listener is threatening to spend the rest of their life in solitude, the ninety-second redemption that is ‘Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall’ appears and after thirty minutes of unhappy tales, it ensures that The Hot Puppies leave us on a triumphant note. “Into each life some rain must fall / But too much is falling in mine” is arguably the album’s key lyric. It’s like Mike Skinner finding his money at the back of the sofa; a sweet ending to a fantastic album.

Though here’s hoping that optimism, and mainstream ubiquity, doesn’t dim their spark. The Hot Puppies: long may their heartache continue.