The opening gambit, presumably the title track, establishes the band's M.O. with crystalline precision: chiming guitars that Johnny Marr would approve of, synthesisers that purr rather than roar, and rhythms so crisp you could slice cheese with them. It's the sound of a band that has studied at the altar of New Order and absorbed the lessons of both their Manchester melancholy and their Balearic bliss.

The success of "90" clearly hasn't gone to their heads; if anything, it seems to have sharpened their focus. The tracks here build upon that breakthrough's template—infectious melodies wrapped in sophisticated arrangements—while pushing into more adventurous territory. This is indie pop with genuine ambition, the work of musicians who understand that evolution, not revolution, is the key to longevity.

What's most impressive about "Awesome" is how it functions both as a standalone statement and as the opening chapter of a larger narrative. The band's decision to split their album into two EPs—this April release followed by an August companion piece—demonstrates a confidence in their material that few acts possess. Rather than front-loading all their strongest tracks, Pompeya appears to be constructing a carefully calibrated emotional arc that will only reveal its full scope once both halves are united. The production, presumably handled with the kind of forensic attention to detail that would make Trevor Horn weep, strikes that elusive balance between period authenticity and modern clarity.

"Awesome" succeeds brilliantly as both a calling card for newcomers and a reward for existing devotees. In an era when so much indie pop feels formulaic, there's something genuinely refreshing about Pompeya's commitment to craft and their willingness to think beyond the single-song attention span. This is pop music as serialised fiction—carefully plotted, elegantly executed, and designed to leave you wanting more.