the fast computers

Crossing pub rock with synth-driven, early ‘80s rock this male-female duo knows how to hit listeners squarely in the earhole with plenty of solid, sonic magic. Peter Dean wouldn’t have been entirely out of place in Brit bands such as ABC or Spandau Ballet, his blue-eyed soul stylings transforming what would otherwise be mundane lyrics (“Magic in the Air” and “December, 1999” won’t easily be confused for literature) into some of the most meaningful and earnest stuff on the soundtrack to your life. His partner, Jennifer Fox, seems equal to the task, as when she takes the mic (as she does for parts of “Don’t Talk”) she charms our ears with an off-kilter warmth that could only be found lurking in the deep forests of the indie underground. Full of music for lovers, music for adults, music for kids, SP is decidedly gemlike and true. – Jedd Beaudoin (2005, The Daily Copper) - the copper press

... and at 4 songs and 15 minutes the Fast Computers and I are off to a good start. 'Magic In The Air' is an uplifting 80's throwback nugget awash with synth/piano and Peter Dean's swaggerin' sexy-cool delivery. I'm gonna hold tight to this one and insert it into next year's summer jams mix. It doesn't feature phat beats nor is it the latest hot remix that everyone's abuzz about it but it sure as hell makes me smile. 'December, 1999' strays not too far from the opener and at this point I'm inclined to drop references to the Shins and...George Michael, the latter moreso in production, so fear not you snobby indie types. Jennifer Fox, the XX half of the duo, adds a pleasant, indie-dream-pop flava' to the casiobeat-driven 'Don't Talk'. There's nothing pretentious or overbearing here, just great pop fun that can elicit a few smiles in times of need. - beat the indie drum

Based on the evidence presented by SP, The Fast Computers are riding a can't-stop-the-music organ line and some tasty, tasty synthesized sounds on a bullet-train to the top-most of the pop-most. Yeah, they're a duo, and yeah, that duo includes one representative of each gender, and yeah, that sort of thing is just so trendy nowadays. Yeah, they're kind of retro. Yeah, it sounds as if they actually curl up and sleep in a nest of vintage synths each night. You got a fucking problem with that?
Of course, this is self-consciously nostalgic music of the most blatant and least apologetic sort, so if you're not down with that kind of thing, you should probably step out of the line before you're strapped in. The rest of you, though, are in for a visit to... well, call it a nostalgic vision of the future. Most of SP could easily serve as the soundtrack for a tour of Disneyworld's Tomorrowland, as it shares with that great monument to hopeful kitsch a feeling of boundless assurance and optimism about a state of affairs that will probably never come to pass.
The entirety of SP whips by in the space of four songs, but there's not a wasted moment. "Magic Is In The Air"'s faux-Billy Joel-isms (which can be differentiated from genuine Joel-isms in that they don't make you want to poke out your eardrums with an icepick) are enough to sell the thing to you: it's poppy, it's unrestrained, and it desperately wants to take you along for the ride. "December, 1999" rides an altogether cooler, groovier organ line (think the title track of Belle and Sebatian's Boy With The Arab Strap) to a sing-along power-pop chorus: "Everyone is sleeping on the floor / and everyone is waiting on the door." "Don't Talk" adopts a vaguely icy, disaffected stance, and stands out nicely as a result. Closer "The Robot's Escape" lays on some nicely edgy guitar, drops it out for a laid-back middle-section, then kicks back in to wrap everything up in a bow.
t's less than fifteen minutes of music, but that near-quarter-hour is full of sugary bliss.
- Splendid e-Zine