"Welcome to Koop Islands. A place where music and life swing to a slightly different drum."
Whoo. Let's vacate down to the beaches then, where you can hear, err, Portishead on Prozac. 'Come to Me' is (armed with only my imagination here. Honest.) Latvian porn music played on a Caribbean beach, and it's hipswingingly wonderful, especially after a few jazz fags (imagination again, folks).
You see, after visiting the Marsden Jazz Festival which I can only describe as, umm, "fucking terrible", Koop have restored my faith in said genre with a sweetheart melody that bears resemblance to sod all else. It could go on for years and not bother me, but it intelligently opts out on three minutes, like so many other songs around the world should. Apart from Meat Loaf of course, who could kindly disappear from any track on 0:00 for all I care.
This encapsulates all the brilliance of typical bass lead waltz. While at the same time, trumpets and saxophones go off on tangents, arsing about and basically saying sod it to the rule book. If you don't find yourself smiling along then you've probably been exposed to too much of that Philip Collins (ahem) nonsense.
Koop are on their third album. The fact that I've never heard of them tells me that I've spent too many years sat in dark rooms listening to Oasis, growing my hair and filing my nails.