Another Canadian band? It'd be easy to become jaded by a scene if every band it spawned was a carbon copy of the one that preceded it. Thankfully, those crafty Canucks have ensured that there's a healthy mix of styles in their national bag of tricks, and Born Ruffians are the latest hip young things to wriggle free of it.
You may have heard bands like Born Ruffians before, but there's something about the Toronto-based trio that makes them almost completely unique. For starters, there's the fact that their UK label, Warp, is largely known for signing electronic acts - yet there's a distinct lack of gadgetry involved in the Ruffian sound. These are short, sweet ramshackle pop ditties that flit between jagged jangles, scratchy thuds and gentle buzzes like a hyperactive hummingbird.
It's no shock, then, that the most lip-smackingly addictive song on this album is called Hummingbird: a semi-frenetic, rough 'round the edges pop tune that pilfers a bassline straight from The Violent Femmes Songbook, it typifies the excitement and imagination showcased on Red, Yellow and Blue to a T. Add to that the fabulously-titled, loose twang of Badonkadonkey, the layered, organic vocals of Kurt Vonnegut, and the wonderful I Need A Life - a song that sounds like Born Ruffians have just discovered rock 'n' roll and subsequently morphed into a High School dance band from the '50s - and you've got a more-than-decent debut offering on your hands.
Lead singer Luke LaLonde's nasal warble deserves a mention, too; displaying a slack, languid range, it sounds equally at home on the starker tracks (Little Garcon) as it does on the jerky, tempo-shifting numbers (In A Mirror, Red Elephant).
They may be the cool name to drop this summer, but if Red, Yellow and Blue is Born Ruffians' bread and butter, their experiments with secondary colours could well result in a masterpiece. Until then, this is a more than satisfactory provision.