Sweden's in the middle of a massive pop renaissance, with the likes of Annie, Robyn, The Concretes, Lykke Li et al bringing the combination of decent song-writing and pop back into the mainstream. Club 8 are another name to add to that list, with golden, dreamy melodies that bathe luxuriously in jangly acoustics, flashing synths and even the occasional bongo. And while it never ever stops being so damn lovely, it's just never ever original.
Of course an album doesn't need to be eclectic to be good, but really The Boy Who Couldnt' Stop Dreaming just isn't that interesting. You could easily go on about those melodies, the instruments, the comparisons with the other thousands of Scandinavian groups doing the same thing, Karolina Komstedt's vocals, her lyrics that pine for human contact and an escape from the snowy, empty north ("a land of pines not people") - but none of that matters since none of it will grab you. It's passable pop. Far too content drifting around aimlessly, void of any memorable hooks, and it just sounds lazy. However, there are occasions when they get the lazy melancholy right - 'Leave The North' with its gently rising strings and baritone ho-humming is the clear album highlight.
Really you could do much worse than getting this album, but with the creative splurge that's happening up there, you might want to look elsewhere.
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