An unusual signing for Jump Up, not least of all because the Peacocks hail from Switzerland, while the Chicago indie label's stable is stuffed with Midwestern acts. The trio's moniker may suggest new romantic revivalists or glammy wannabes, but their sharp suits and carefully coiffed hair indicate a more mod-ish approach. In fact, the band are none the above, preferring a flamboyant blend of rockabilly, pop-punk, and a generous splash of upbeat ska. That mixture in itself is fairly unique, but what really sets the Peacocks apart is the upright bass exuberantly played with panache by Simon Langhard. This instrument not only gives the band an authentic rockabilly sound, it also adds a fabulous sonic twist to their punk and ska numbers.
Langhard's singing guitar-slinging brother, Hasu, is the group's songwriter, composing melody laced, anthemic numbers with powerful hooks, that the trio then arrange with eclectic delight.
From the guitar and vocals only "Let's Rock," which Hasu describes as Eddie Cochran meets Jonathan Richman, to the band's Motörhead-ish cover of la Mano Negra's "Letter to the Censors," the Peacocks display a breathtaking spectrum of styles. Purists, however, will adore the straight-up rockabilly of "You're Not Better," the insistent reggae with obligatory organ of "Untitled," the slamming punk rock of "Don't Ask the Kids," and the steaming melodic hardcore of "It's Your Fault." Still, it's the way their sound swaggers between genres, like the surf-tossed guitar that splashes into the glorious pop-punk "Goodbye," or the rockabilly rhythm that storms across the equally ebullient "First," that really makes the fans shout out for more. All in all a sensational album from a rabble-rousing, crowd-pleasing trio whose take on new-school punk and the third wave is quite unlike anything else out there.