Okay, all you Jay Gatsbys and Daisy Buchanans, crank up those Victrolas, call your party- going flapper pals and get weak- legged on illegal bathtub gin and moonshine. It's time for some jumpin' swing- style jazz-- the energetic offshoot of the lousy lounge- music retro craze. Austin's 8½ Souvenirs are close cousins of prominent Sloth City throwback acts Asylum St. Spankers and The Naughty Ones. Yet the Souvenirs set out to perfectly recapture the wing- tip- tappin' essence of the late '20s and early '30s Reinhardt/ Grappelli sound. And they do a fairly commendable job of it. Arguably, they're more technically proficient than the bozos usually credited with engineering this whole movement, the Squirrel Nut Zippers.

Happy Feet is released under the highbrow auspices of RCA Victor, home to Glenn Miller, Duke Ellington, and Andy "Fuck the police, I'm a serious jazz player now" Summers. The hipsters in 8½ Souvenirs thrive on impeccable syncopation, technical skill, and sexy vocals. They're loved by many a slicked-up, upper- crust college- age whippersnapper: the amorously- inclined university co-eds all hot and bothered by their first summer abroad in gay Paree; or the zoot- suited young- urban- professional/ weekend hepcat imitating their favorite Prohibition- era mobster.

The Souvenirs' soppy sweet vocals are handled by handsome French bandleader Oliver Giraud and the lovely Chrysta Bell. Giraud, the suave glamour-puss (oh, and did I mention he was French, ladies?)guitarist delivers expert imitations of Django's deft linear phrasing and graceful trilling. Add a dash of Chrysta Bell's white-girl soul and screwball romanticism, and you've got somethin' hot here, boyo. The Souvenirs are simply ga-ga over Django Reinhardt, Serge Gainsbourg, Favino guitars, and all things cute, vintage and fabulously foreign. Their multi- lingual penchant for nonsense lyricism is obviated on the barrel o'fun butt- bumper, "No Lo Visto," with Giraud and Bell trading vocals in Italian, Spanish, English and French. And Gainsbourg's equally absurdist "Black Trombone" is given a little pep in its step from the Souvenirs' rhythm section of Glover Gill and Adam Berlin.

Of course, there's nothing strikingly original about 8½ Souvenirs. Even their "original" instrumentals like "Kazango" are familiar- sounding musical composites of popular Jazz Age styles. Happy Feet is nothing more than an enjoyable, escapist traipse through the daisies of music's distant past. It's perfectly delightful stuff, dah-ling, but probably won't survive the inevitable passing of the big band/ swing fad. So until these guys get bumped off the musical map, kitty kat, cut the rug till ya drop. It's hap- hap- happy swing- style jazz from the land of easy living.

-Michael Sandlin