It’s 7am. Rory Rev is challenging me to a duel. In his right hand is a large wooden stick designed to hold a newspaper. His other clutches a bizarre cocktail of Bacardi, whiskey, gin and God knows what else. Its creator, Anders the bar man (the man with the head as Rory calls him), stumbles around behind the bar trying to wake his co-worker Jorgen. Jorgen is mumbling incoherently to himself. He’s full. Much to the displeasure of the breakfast staff, who swerve in and out of Rory’s swashbuckling, we have been drinking all night.
“Come on Mr Journo,” shouts Rory, nearly hitting a poker faced Swede as he eats his cornflakes. “Come, and I will break you.”
Tonight has been a rare occasion for The Revs front-man to let off some steam. Along with guitarist John McIntyre and drummer Michael Daniel O’Donnell, he’s been in the country’s third largest city on-and-off for the last three months. The Donegal-based trio have been recording their second studio album in a Groundhog Day-like schedule which has taken them from bed to studio, studio to bed. When I ask John if he’s seen much of the city he says, “Yeah, a bit. I mean we had a day off once.” It has been that intense.
As always, hard work pays huge dividends, though few could have expected The Revs to receive such a return on their investment. An hour after arriving in Malmo’s Yellow Studios, I become the first outsider to hear the 95% complete album. It is here where Franz Ferdinand recorded last year’s album of the year; here where Nina from The Cardigans knits in between recording takes; and here where The Revs have been working with producers, and Franz engineers, Stefan Kvarnström and Jens Lindgård.
“What do you think?” asks Rory. "Good," I respond, slightly shocked. I’m lost for words. I don’t know what I was expecting but I wasn’t expecting this. The Revs have recorded their Final Straw, their Parklife, their Different Class. They’ve recorded an album which is going to knock people back. It’ll surprise their critics and fuck with the heads of those who had them pinned as an Irish Busted. Radio stations will field calls to the point where the presenter will be forced to announce that "Yes, that was The Revs. We’ve checked the CD twice and it’s definitely the same group that recorded the awful ‘Turning Japanese’ cover. We are as surprised as you.’"
What’s most unexpected about the forthcoming (as yet untitled) LP is the quality of execution. They’ve taken their standard verse/chorus material, pulled it apart, and began rebuilding by inserting slight breaks and guitar hums at the most unexpected intervals. They’ve given songs like ‘Borderland’, and forthcoming single ‘Time Slipping’, space without letting them feel sparse.
Although this certainly isn’t sonic experimentation on a level akin to Kid A or Revolver, there has been a marked shift in The Revs’ sound. They’ve created a diverse album which bounces from sunshine cider fun (an uproarious punk tune provisionally titled ‘You Shine, Sometimes’), to new wave (‘Independence Day’, ‘Start’), through to the political (‘Borderland’) before closing with a heartfelt piano balled (‘The Conversation’). Here we get The Revs with subtle drumming, vulnerable vocals and red-eyed lyrics.
Rory puts the change in direction down to a natural progression rather then any radical stylistic overhaul.
“This is really the music we made when we first formed five years ago, believe it or not. I think when we split with our management and the record company we were with, we kind of got a chance to go back to our original plan. With the early chart success we had in the past we got pushed in a direction which wasn’t really us and we lost our way a bit.”
“In a lot of ways we were very much a band of our time,” he adds. “Our time being an era when everything gets pushed into the charts quickly and becomes instantly disposable. There’s very little time set aside for development. It got to the stage where we were making music we wouldn’t really listen to, which is horrible. It became work.”
Now, though, things have changed. Work is fun again: it involves collaborating with two outstanding producers who both get the band and push the band; seeing Nina from The Cardigans everyday; using Pete Townsend’s Marshall amp; and pounding the drum kit Franz Ferdinand that recorded ‘Take Me Out’ on. John in particular feels a sense of privilege recording in such an environment.
Rory, meanwhile, wants a sword fight. In the all conquering form he’s in these days I’m not sure I’d be wise to accept. To paraphrase Bono, pop is no longer a dirty word. In the mould of The Killers, Super Furry Animals, Teenage Fanclub, and The La’s, The Revs have made a great pop record. Prepare to be stunned. The secret is out.

The Revs give their 'Time Slipping' single an airing on May 11 in Whelan's. The album its taken from follows in September.