The portent of expectation. I hold my breath and can hardly bear to play this new record - "Let This Be The Last Night We Care" by Alcoholic Faith Mission. You know what that's like, to have high hopes. I dip my toe in the water a bit a time, an opening snatch here, half a chorus there. I try not to build it up, but can't help it. I play it all the way through and try to hear it as though I had no reference from what had gone before. First time out, cautiously I approved. I played it over just the once more and it had me. Praise be.

The cause of this present angst was the previous Alcoholic Faith Mission album, "421 Wythe Avenue". I loved that with a passion, still do. But this isn't about comparisons, "Let This Be The Last Night We Care" has to stand on its own two feet. Thankfully it does and more.
It's no Lady Gaga feast of the obvious. That's not to say it's obscure, but it takes a moment to set into your synapses in the way that the best music always used to, the stuff that you were going to love for life, before we became such attention deficit drones. And when it curls around your brain tendrils, you're stuck with it.

Alcoholic Faith Mission are Danish, from Copenhagen, but have an Americana fixation. This manifests everywhere from a love of road tripping out west to feeling the need to record in New York. Despite this, they just sound so - what's the word? - nordic. They just can't shake it off. Kristine's voice, in one line, captures that keening that is endemic in Sigur Ros' emotive outpourings. The band have gradually grown from a folky male duo to the current five piece, Kristine, Gustav, Sune, Laurids and Thorben. Vocals are shared between original mainstay Thorben and relative newcomer Kristine, who joined them part way through their last album - according to Thorben, a musical match made in heaven. Different their voices certainly are - Thorben gruff and warm, Kris all girly, wispy and ethereal. Individually they stand up, but it's when you put them together, either in duet or intertwined call and response that the full effect hits.

The album sound veers from simple echoing arrangement to overlays of scratching, almost semi-industrial noises. Evocative and layered even when stirring, shaken percussion jumps up to help things along. It sounds celebratory, despite singing of matters less than wholesome. Speaking of which leads us to the opening track - 'Put The Virus In You'. With sparse piano, this is chilling and gorgeous. So soon in the album, it comes together, brass sad enough to make you weep, but adding things to the mix in such a way that 2 plus 3 equals clouds. 'My Eyes To See' has got more of that something galloping and scratching in the background. It hides behind a church organ until the wave strikes, yowling guitar fireworks, double tracked voices, ending with Kris intoning the title lyric. Her voice on this one song encapsulates most of what I love about Scandinavian music.

There is some hankering for their love of the States on 'Closer To Dallas', even if once there they do their resolutely northern European thing there. This is perfect for road tripping the Interstate 80 from Utah to California. Hypnotic, almost entirely instrumental, rolling in its own slow sweet time. Possibly the leading contender as a single, despite the slightly preposterous title, 'Got Love? Got Shellfish!' sounds most like a shouted primary school choir, till they sing "You shock me, you fuck me" over a jaunty bubbling keyboard. "I get love from everyone but you" - frustration or just disappointment? It matters little, you're still not getting that which you crave. Lose yourself, ride this one to the top and enjoy the view when you get there.

Alcoholic Faith Mission have a relationship with booze. Even aside from their name, their last album was carefully recorded at a certain index point of inebriation, I don't know if they've stayed with that rule here. On 'Sobriety Up And Left', cracked and wheezing brass presages the chorus. Sober is the word, sobering is the effect. It's not too late - isn't that what drunks always think, but then it inevitably is, the chances slip away over and again, defeat snatched from success. The song ends up drowned in its own drunken sound. So sad and so true. 'Season Me Right' comes at you gently, a simple guitar line till a shuffling skiffling drum joins along. Thorben starts the story, Kris takes it up. "I placed you on a fruit stand" - that and serving you for entrees. Intriguing, some might say strange lyrics over quite straightforward Moog sounding scales. Down to nothing, Kris singing whilst Thorben mumbles over drums and tambourine.

An acoustic guitar with belly ache, on 'Education'. Kris's voice is clearer now, less buried, and that elated build up of the ensemble band. Thorben joins in the duet, the two of them climbing a hill of words with steady rhythm till it all slows like a machine coming to a stop - a last plaintive breathed out sigh about broken wings and meaningless words. 'Snuck In To Ride It' - single guitar string over slight reverb, echo in the machine. At this point, I truly have little idea what they are saying but it is beautiful and serious. A growing beat behind the guitar. Talk of a scary one indeed, glimpses of a rollercoaster, till it plays out choir-like once more. 'The You, That You Could Use' brings with it more guitar jangle, just until that corrupted brass slides out sideways. No-one's coming out alive. Kris's voice at once girly and serious. Hammond like buzz and drone till it jumps back into an electro-folk groove, diving down a hillside to the sound of bells and organ.

"Woke up right beside her, almost out of breath" we hear on 'Should've Left Before She Woke'. Percussive but with that choral feeling once more, becoming something of a signature for Alcoholic Faith Mission, bringing those sounds together in a mewling ensemble. More brass adds breadth and width in here, evocative of Sufjan Stevens in touring band mode. A slight bleep then an explosion in 'Honeydrip' - joyful choir soaring, climbing melody, chanted shouts - "your mouth is dripping honey now ..." This is a beauteous song, back and forth between male and female, belying the actual message. I'm still not quite sure whether that's a compliment or a curse to have Kristine accusing you - "caught you in the act, you're so devious" - we should all be so lucky, the sin sounds delicious whatever it is. This vies as an obvious accessible lead track. The album plays out with a short and slight untitled track, clicking, whirring, acoustic hearkening to their earlier days, a folk song with trumpet echoes.

"Let This Be The Last Night We Care" is less obvious than its predecessor, though more consistent. I loved that last album and yet I can see the progression, this new one fits together like a mosaic. The overall impression is one of definite joy, despite the sometimes dark underlying tones. I just know I'll be listening to this one for a long time to come. It's quietly glorious.

I haven't seen the band live. Until now they have barely made it beyond mainland Europe, but thankfully that's about to change with a handful of UK dates.

5 Mar 2010 Album release party @ Huset ved Kongens Have Copenhagen (DK)
25 Mar 2010 Zentrale Hamburg (D)
26 Mar 2010 Hafen 2 Offenbach (D)
27 Mar 2010 Barfly London (UK)
29 Mar 2010 The Dulcimer Manchester (UK)
30 Mar 2010 Wilmington Arms London (UK)
1 Apr 2010 La Cantine Paris (F)
2 Apr 2010 La Malterie Lille (F)
15 Apr 2010 Studenterhuset Århus (DK)
16 Apr 2010 1000 Fryd Aalborg (DK)
17 Apr 2010 Loppen Copenhagen (DK)

"Let This Be The Last Night We Care" is released on 5 March. If I didn't already have a copy, I'd be down the record shop.