In early 2010 Tennis tiptoed into the blogosphere with ‘Marathon’, a hymn to the bubblegum era of high-school innocent romance, and since then Alania Moore’s sweetly monotone ooh-oohs and Patrick Riley’s jangly guitar became a trademark of their understated lo-fi sugarpop.

Perhaps hubby ‘n wife duo wanted to conquer the world as pirates used to do back in the days, when they bought a sailboat, Cape Dory, to travel the east coast for eight months. They failed in that mission. Instead they conquered the indie-scene with the songs born out of that voyage, and Cape Dory became the name of their debut album - which is not such a bad achievement, if you ask me.

I had seen Tennis already play a mesmerizing gig at Primavera Sound 2011 and I was utmost excited at the idea of seeing them at Cargo on 6th July. Their summery, simple, sticky-sweet pop melodies best suit this time of the year, when you wake up, kiss the sun and go to bed with the first pink rays wishing you a good sleep. Ok, this would happen in an ideal world - we all know what the deal is with the weather in London. Truth is, ear-candies like ‘Marathon’, ‘Baltimore’, ‘Bimini Bay’ are the perfect soundtrack to daydreams of carefree haze of the mind and bike rides in the sun.

Not surprisingly, at Cargo, the atmosphere was pretty different from the ATP stage at Primavera Sound. Though packed, the vibe was more the one of a examination, everybody staring at the band, without moving a toe, and not even nodding to the rhythms. Those among you that have seen Tennis live would agree that they are much better in studio, or drowned in sun on some festival stage, where the surroundings (and a really good soundsystem - which was missing at Cargo) could amplify those hints of loveliness and candor - for each other and for the world - that sometimes get lost among the gaps between the voice and the guitar.

However, seeing them in a relatively intimate venue like Cargo turned out to be an epiphanic experience as well. Even though the PA was not amazing, you could almost touch all the love vibes that shone through each riff and hazy piano sequence, to the point that by the end of the gig I was in a sugar high.

Maybe this is a girl thing (we all melt in front of adventurous romances and happy endings, no matter how punk we can be), so even though the gig in itself was nothing mind-bogging, I can’t help but grant all my (biased) appreciation for Tennis. Because with their rickety pop and genuine enthusiasm they are a vitaminic shot of pure positiveness, the highly contagious type that only people that sail on life can be.