The Foals Dial Up a Snappy Number

If there was an ideal time frame backdrop to The Foals current single "My Number" it would be just as the sun has set over London. The nightlife buzz is just starting to rise from the streets. The controlled pandemonium of downtown life is gaining some momentum. The various social cliques are reconvening to swap stories, talk trash, or whatever else this batch of locals sees fit to do. "My Number" carries through the noise an electricity, a need to see what kind of legally sanctioned trouble can be gotten into. The song's lyrics deal more with independence from the nonstop drone rather than wishing to fit into the faceless blob. Yannis Philippakis defiantly declares that the streets are dragging him down. He's more alive adopting a loner posture, being of the city but not submissively a product. In most big cities there's maze of buyer/seller activities. We the consumers wander through the seductive maze fending off temptation with one hand, taking a deep sniff of the affluence with another. Jimmy Smith fends off the mass consumption spirit with the cat-like readiness of his guitar.On his toes throughout he conveys the coked up state of mind of someone trying to find his way to a somewhere where the universe's parameters won't chain him beyond the scope of human dignity. Edwin Congreave plinks away at the keyboards, a sort of elfin spirit supplying timely jolts of antsy energy for the escape pilgrimage. Jack Bevan thumps the drums with admirable judicious restraint. His beat closely resembles the whip at one's ear, demanding unyielding focus on moving on. Walter Gervers bass is the mellowed out ticking heart for the song. Time is of the essence for the boys. That urgency translates into all purpose with no wasted movements. The "Holy Fire" project stands a fine chance of taking up residence in the wider popular brain pan on the heels of snappy nuggets like this. You'd be wise to give The Foals the chance to gallop their way to mainstream victory.