After a shaky start, this album from a bunch of Noo Yawkers (Brooklyn, apparently) rapidly gains some rather affecting focus; a little bit indie, a little bit glam, a little bit torch-song, all covered in a manner evoking the very best of pop.
They also sound more UK than USA, especially in the vocal department. I sense a plethora of snorters waiting to damn them with faint comparisons but Black Gold should have the last laugh, if there’s any justice in this world. Forget your Coldplays and your Athletes and, yes, even your Franz Ferdinands. The Klondike’s moving.