It's not that The Rapture are a particularly difficult band to pin to one genre; and they're not so substantially unique as to warrant the invention of a brand-new sub-category; it's just that their propulsive dance-funk is so bloody good, that whatever label you slap upon them just never quite seems to cover it. Since 2003's DFA-produced debut, Echoes (which contained the most irritating/infectious anthem of the year, House of Jealous Lovers), the innovative New York quartet have cultivated quite a reputation for their incendiary live performances. The absence of James 'genius' Murphy behind the sound desk for this album, however, pushed panic buttons for some who doubted that the follow-up would have any of Echoes' combustive zeal. Thankfully, they couldn't be more wrong; Pieces of the People We Love maintains both the incisiveness and frazzle that its too-cool-for-school precursor embraced, with some bonus introspection for good measure. The first four tracks are among the best you'll hear on any album this year; Don Gon Do It slides and shifts niftily between Space Invader-chic, Daft Punk-esque electro-solos and the disco-funk that Jamiroquai would be capable of if he wasn't such a knob; the title track finds vocalist Luke Jenner's trademark yelp surprisingly soulful over a crackling synth backing; single Get Myself Into It's tight groove almost atones for M People's crimes against saxophone usage, and First Gear's self-assured grimy glitz is reminiscent of Tom Vek covering Michael Jackson. Sure, there are a couple of blips - Down for So Long is shockingly evocative of Kasabian, and Live in Sunshine's dreamy inconsistency sounds slightly out-of-place amongst the supple dance-oriented tracks; but they're minor gripes, and easily rectified by the overwhelmingly superior core. They may complain that 'People don't dance no more', but Pieces of the People We Love is a disco in a forty-five minute disc. Turn it on, crank it up, and dance your little arses off.