MOG

On "Proof of Youth," The Go! Team's a mish-mash fever dream of summer. It's 100 degrees outside, that supernatural heat that burns pavement & skin and causes illusions, delusions. Causes you to recall summers you've never had, that no one's ever had, that we all construct from pop culture and accidentally remember fondly.

The Go! Team is colorful short shorts & hipster knee socks. "Proof of Youth" is me with a pistol, you with roller skates, and together? Well, we're on the run.

They're still from Brighton, still a (base) six-piece - the blueprint & the raw material's the same as it ever was. 2004's "Thunder, Lightning, Strike" pulled together retro chase-scene music, cheerleaders, hip hop (old school), twee pop (new school) & funk, and pushed out wall-to-wall party music. There was novelty in the parts but budding sophistication in the whole: each collection of sounds became a solo instrument in an overstuffed, overjoyous soundtrack.

I enjoyed it the first time around, but I was prepared to be over this band, over this sound on the second outing. I wanted it to be beyond anything resembling novelty (a charming quality not known for its endurance), but the beginning snagged me, and right away. "Proof" opens with a distant siren and races, really races, into “Grip Like a Vice,” building an early hip-hop party anthem (hey girls, are ya with us?) on top of the 70s action themes that star-wiped across the debut. The signature chanting cheerleaders & horns show back up in "Doing it Right," and then, surprisingly, drop into a sweet instrumental intermission ("My World.") The just-right switch in album energy applies as a larger statement about the band's awareness of (the limits of) their quirk; each song pushes the nostalgic, noisy sampling to the very limits of tolerance, and then builds and deepens - just moments before you write it off.

This deepening gathers momentum from its wide-ranging guest list. Public Enemy's Chuck D ("Flashlight Fight") and Marina Ribatski of Bonde du Role participate in the collage-building, alongside the Rapper's Delight Club and the Double Dutch Divas. The tracks follow their respective leaders into new sonic corners (never far from the main noise-hall) in earnest, either building up or stripping down to find new growing space, however awkward ("I Never Needed It Now So Much" does its best Belle & Sebastian, it's not quite what we came for.) The exploration takes the occasional wrong turn, but the maturity of the mash-craft makes the fumbles worth it.

So appreciate the growth, but enjoy that it isn't the point. The hyper-kinetic 36 minutes ultimately desires little else than to make you fucking happy on a hot day. Just shut up, put on your skates and get in the car.