the automatic combine elements of three of the bigger british press darlings of this young century--the white stripes, the vines, the rapture--and, on paper, it's easy to see how these three could have combined into a perfect storm of bad.
but it doesn't! it's groovy, driven, and massive; a seven nation army would be too small too unleash such an attack : you'd need, like, a coalition, a coalition of the THRILLING, led by the dance commander-in-chief. the chorus goes, "GET! UP! RECOVER! CUZ YOU'LL NEVER DANCE AGAIN!" you'll find that it's the kind of song that you'll have played ten times in a row w/o having noticed. what you will notice, though, is how easily thing might have gone awry. it's like how if the rate of expansion one second after the big bang had been smaller by one part in one-hundred billion, the universe would have collapsed by now. the margin for error is just about that slim, which should demonstrate the kind of skill involved here.