From one of the most annoying songs in the history of music to one of its most annoying frontmen – neither are actually contained on this debut album from whopping 11-piece collective Edward Sharpe & The Magnificent Zeroes, but both are relevant. First up, ‘It Ain’t What You Do, It’s The Way That You Do It’; not actually the song itself, but the sentiment inherent in its title. There’s nothing here that is especially remarkable, except for perhaps its spirit. It farms a similar retro line to Devendra Banhart, a 60s commune vibe of strummed guitars and daisy chains, whichever way you choose to interpret that expression. But it does “it”, so to speak, like it is the first time it has been done and that is key to its many successes, its unabashed, undiluted enthusiasm. The trilling ‘Jade’, for instance, sources the mariachi heart of Calexico and marries it to ‘Haiti’ by The Arcade Fire, as seen through Jarvis Cocker’s tinted shades. Normal, well-practised styles, strained and filtered till they feel unusually zesty. The thigh-slapping country hoe-down of ‘Home’, and boogie-woogie sing-along of the insatiable “40 Day Dream” feel instantly familiar, like they’ve been played out a thousand times at hazy, clichéd 1960s dormitory parties, but are played out here like they it is all brand new. You only need look at the cover to think Polyphonic Spree or I’m From Barcelona and it does little over thirteen tracks to try and throw you off that scent (well, once you’ve lit a josstick…), instead using the bodies available to them to build the sense of excitement, and this is especially well utilised on the very-campfire-compatible ‘Om Nashi Me’. Unfortunately, frontman Alex Ebert (Edward Sharpe being the alter ego/band name) is a frequent soundalike of Johnny Borrell. The similarity is unsettling, but it’s not his fault, he can’t help it can he, unfortunate soul. And besides, you actually believe this guy, which has got to be worth something. He has a persuasive way too, “Up From Below” becomes more hypnotic with each listen.