The lead guitars belong on the beach with Chris Izaak, the acoustic is probably in the hotel room, the backing woo-oohs might as well be waves crashing in against a rhythm section so perfectly crisp I can barely contain myself by the time they saunter hand in hand up to the microphone. Enter stage Einar, exuding that febrishly louche Scandavian vocal style that makes me want to renounce my own country, a feverish less all-knowing Erlend. The counterplay with Rosa is to die for, her vocals vary from cattish to downright foxy, coming across as innocent but not. In pure pop cases such as these, the lyrics barely merit any consideration mainly because there are very few. If you take a look all you'll find is a giddy, excitable mess of tender first steps into love's overloaded expectations, showy superstar brags of sports cars and I can't stay tonight cos my kitty will starve whilst in reality I'm deciding to give you everything.
The chorus line gets repeated not once, not twice, but fourteen times.
Feldberg - Dreamin'