Are you, gentle reader, 15 or 16? Or anything under 20 really? Yes? Our advice to you; revel in it. Loll around in that transitory convergence of your youthful dynamism and gaining life experience while you still can. Crud is not that young you see. We’re not exactly drawing our pension, yet, but we’ve blown out enough birthday cake candles to be green with envy at the wisdom and richness emanating from the mouths and acoustic guitar strings of sisters Johanna and Klara Söderberg, aka Sweden’s brightest new star First Aid Kit. 19 and 16 years old respectively, it’s a fact that’s hard to equate with the deeply woven sense of considered, dreamy consciousness peddled so naturally by the pair. Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes is an obvious reference and he too started young, but without the gentle, imaginative class of these two. His rounded edges came much later. It’s the kind of twinkling, lightweight, literate anti-folk that sits so blissfully well with Emmy The Great, but her age (mid-20s) gives a rationale for the maturity of the narratives and rich textures; Johanna and Klara spin a wider web of creativity too. From the waltzing caterwaul harmonies of ‘Little Moon’, through the Nina Simone-esque soul of ‘Jagadamba, You Might’ to sounding like a perkier Low on the pounding ‘Cross Oceans’ this is a mini album packed like a stuffed suitcase with a buckling clasp, yet it never feels anything less than tender and unhurried. The divinely simple, xylophone sprinkled Americana of ‘Tangerine’ is sung with the hardened twang of a woman let down over and over (“I’m not going to beg, just say please please please, be good to me”), but it’s clear that the crispness of this precious collection of songs is owed to their cotton-fresh optimism and poise. Long may that juxtaposition continue to create gems like this. Wonderful.