Sleeping Policemen’s gentle, elegant indie-pop comes tumbling out of your speakers, lands in a crumpled heap on your floor, and after a quick glance around, opens the curtains to let a bit of sun in. As home invasions go, it’s a pretty welcome one.

Alex, Hennie, Jil, Jonas and Sonja hail from Hamburg, love roast chicken and Fanta, and have made (with the help of Tocotronic’s Rick McPhail) what was only intended originally to be a single: ‚Bonnie‘, which trips along as gracefully as its airheaded art-school protagonist (though it’s a little smarter), and ‚High Skies‘, a paean to the vagaries of career choice (and transcending it) featuring a 17-piece choir recruited from among their friends.

Deciding what to put on track three proved an impossible task for the label however: it just seemed impossible to leave any of the other 10 songs the band had sent off the record. A twelve-track single though is stretching the format a little, and so was born an album which deals in short order with all of life’s most pressing topics: the moderation of language, sensible motoring,the serendipity of serendipity…. oh yeah, and love and all that.

Like their traffic safety namesake, they’d like you to perhaps slow down a little bit. That they manage this with silvery guitars, a wry turn of phrase and a wistful melodic twist instead of by wrecking your suspension is something to be thankful for.

Neil Wells