These blimmin' indie scenesters, eh? A paradoxical bunch if ever there was one. I mean, The Young Knives are about as sharp as a baby's arse, Metric are perhaps more imperial than even they themselves would admit, and as for The Ordinary Boys.. actually, let's not go there. It stands to reason, then, that I'm From Barcelona are actually from Jonkoping in Sweden; yet they apparently have such an affection for Fawlty Towers' Catalan waiter, Manuel, that they named their band after one of his oft-spoken phrases. That's 'band' in the loosest sense of the word, by the way - altogether, the collective number twenty-nine when none of them have a dentist's appointment or a holiday booked. Theirs is a similar set-up to both perpetually-happy Texan loons The Polyphonic Spree and Canadian darlings Broken Social Scene, with songwriting and leadership duties falling upon a sole pair of shoulders - in this case, Emanuel Lundgren's. Musically, I'm From Barcelona are interestingly similar to both groups, too; Let Me Introduce My Friends is a bouncy trip of an album that bumbles merrily along, soundtracked by a multitude of instruments, including the trumpet, sax, kazoo, flute, banjo and clarinet. There are some classy songs to boot: We're From Barcelona is a festival-goer's delight, an effervescent, sun-kissed treasure; Treehouse is an effortlessly catchy group effort with possibly the most annoyingly memorable chorus of the year; Chicken Pox's bluesy vibe swings along at just the right pace, while the unnamed hidden track is probably the best on the album - a jitteringly taut wonder that uncoils firmly and deliciously. Lundgren's lyrics tread a fine line between ridiculously puerile and disarmingly charming at times, and his Americanised drawl can grate after a few tracks; but ultimately, Let Me Introduce My Friends is a good-natured, if decidedly nonessential addition to the Swedish pop canon.