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Jungle are pretty much a testament to the power of the internet and all us savvy lot who scour the depths in search of the Atlantis of proper cracking tunes. They're a band that could only have been created now, oozing whatever it is Generation Y oozes (probably double mocha lattes with two pumps of caramel syrup or something), that managed to utilise social media and the virality of a really well-crafted music video; OK Go but with good songs to accompany the cool videos. Breakdancing kids and rollerskating dancers all played a part in the well-crafted rise of Jungle, who hid behind colourful publicity shots and, when playing live, amongst the shadows of Village Underground until very recently. But all this mystery and hype is not wasted; seemingly following Rhye's lead of managing to create an intriguing mystery while also producing great music.

Their endlessly cool funk tunes, which would all go down superbly at any sort of barbeque, are a far cry from the Britpop band that was compared to Brother (a death knell if ever there was one!) where childhood friends Tom McFarland and Joshua Lloyd-Watson cut their teeth. The singles such as 'The Heat' and 'Time' that sent every blog into a right tizzy were tight, slinky little funk numbers that would, if they were people, be the sexy model that glides through the party leaving everyone in awe. Instantly danceable, but perfect for a chilled-out afternoon in the garden, they were tunes that proved Jungle would talk the talk, and weren't just a load of false promises.

I mentioned earlier that Jungle could be the quintessential Generation Y band, and it's none so more obvious when you take a listen to this self-titled debut. While, on the surface, many of the songs here, including the singles that anyone with their head screwed to the hype machine will know like the back of their hand by now, feel like the soundtrack to a party on Mars, they're all tinged with a little darkness, like they're stuck in a rut with no real way out. 'Busy Earnin' is the perfect example, with its weird fake horn section that wouldn't sound out of place on Todd Terje's latest album and funky, space age bass lines providing the boogie while the falsettos sing of a malaise caused by lack of opportunities and poor wages. It almost feels like these songs are a way to cope with the current situation for anyone in their 20s; the tropical synths, splashes of Caribbean percussion, and funky as hell bass lines making the bitter pill a little bit easier to swallow.

It's not as deep, lyrically, as it might sound; it doesn't quite have the inner-city sharpness that The Streets had, but that feeling of malaise is there. It's just quite easy to turn it off and focus on the addictive rhythms that permeate the album and it's an enjoyable album whichever way you feel like looking at it. The Morricone space-western esque 'Smoking Pixels' sits as a nice interlude and lets you know that this album can be dark, if you want to look at it that way. It's an album that shows that they are capable of making more ridiculously addictive songs; 'Julia' finding itself on permanent rotation in my head since first listen, while also dipping into more relaxed and chilled out areas; 'Lemonade Lake' a beautifully serene closer that feels like a meditative contemplation of the entire album set on a beach during a beautifully orange sunset.

There are times when the album feels like it starts to tread the same ground, but there is also sign that Jungle have it in them to do things that are different. It's difficult to gauge whether they have another album of material in them or if they've used it all up in their debut, but it's still a fantastic record that managed to live up to the hype that's surrounded them since day one. Proof that mystery and hype is not all just smoke and mirrors, and can actually lead to a well-deserved rise courtesy of some funky tunes that ooze sex appeal and some brilliant music videos.

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