Alberta Cross - 'The Thief And The Heartbreaker' (Fiction) Released 14/05/07

Alberta Cross have a sound that would have been dismissed as retro in any year since 1975. It’s a sound nobody has wanted to touch since Proud Mary sunk without a trace despite the patronage of a none-more-retro Noel Gallagher several years ago. There isn’t one synth on the album, it isn’t produced by James Ford and they haven’t been remixed by Van She. It couldn’t be less 2007 if it was wearing corduroy flares and paisley shirts (which it probably is). Thank **** for that then.

The weird thing is, if it had been released five years ago, 'The Thief and The Heartbreaker' would have stood less chance of survival than a kebab on The Magic Number’s tourbus. In today’s climate of post-Libertines shaggy-haired urchin-rock and bacofoil-jacketed nu-rave poseurs though, it’s almost a breath of fresh air.

From the moment the guitars first ring over the lazy shuffle of the title track, we know we’ve been transported back to an era when the likes of Steppenwolf, Free and The Band were enjoying their peak. As we then roll into the Neil Young-like 'Lucy Rider', the characteristics of Alberta Cross becomes more defined – a sparse, echoing chime bounces of the uncluttered arrangements, while Swedish vocalist Petter Eriscson Stakee’s high-pitched howl is as distinctive and plaintive as that of many of his influences.

The mini-album pitches itself between loose yet electrifying rock ‘n’ roll (the Kings of Leon-style rock-out of closer 'The Devil’s All You Ever Had') and countrified folk (the ghost of Van Morrison is all over 'Old Man Chicago'), and while it’s undoubtedly trad, there’s a certain Sunday morning freshness to it, clearing the senses of the weekend’s abuses and embracing the optimism of the day ahead. Alberta Cross may find they will meet enemies along the way, but its only the most blinkered of cynics who’ll deny the beauty present on this brief collection.