A Casanova is defined as “a man with a reputation for having many amorous adventures; rake; Don Juan.” Our Casanova hails from Tramore in Waterford, but his shimmering amorous adventures are documented for all to enjoy on his debut album, Joy of Being. Brian McCartan is our man, releasing his creative urges under the guise of The Casanova Wave. Joy of Being is exactly that—a jubilant gallop through Happy Land, each of nyan cat’s pixels trailing an intricate beat.

How the Beat Was Tempered opens up glittering, if not a little concentrated, like a kid playing keyboard with one finger. The beats go off on a tangent, but interesting additions like a suspect car horn help to keep it bizarrely on track. Heavily vocoded vocals—as if sung by a computer—are upbeat and childlike, like a baby robot floating over an 8-bit rainbow.

McCartan has taken a DIY approach to his collection of jovial electro pop, borrowing instruments, and drawing noise from anything that looks like it omits a sound. That’s not to say he didn’t get a little help from his musical peers.

Vocals are unsurprisingly sparse, but Wayne Fahy and Sorcha Brennan from Sleep Thieves play twee lyrical relay on The Light, amongst melodic whistles, while All of it’s Yours has a deeper presence, heavier and more sincere—courtesy of Rob Grace and Liam Doyle from Neon Wolf.

The Victoria Principle opens with distant hysteria, but what follows is clapping, pulsing looped synths that almost sting you, and stuttering electro beats. The heavier reverb adds a feeling of sadness—blame it on that one nervously shaking riff that overlays the happy dusting underneath.

If you believe in fairies, chances are, A Song for Grace plays every time one is born. A light guitar shakes over firework chimes, shimmering like raining coins. Mix that up with electro strings, and it’s one of the sweeter songs on the album.

The Fox’s Den, on the other hand, plays like a time-lapse of a lonely city at nightfall. At just 54 seconds long, atmospheric pulses and distorted digital beats create a serene tone that disappears just a bit too soon. This signifies something of an intermission to the intense side of elated happiness that might not be happiness at all. Play, For the Night is Coming maintains this ambience, with ‘n-da-dah’ chants over delicate xylophonic sounds, while subtle guitar strums and firm drum beats all build to create a blissful wall of contrasting and uplifting rhythms. So powerful, it’s a score, more than a pop song, it’s an epic at 6.54—but one that keeps you entranced until the very last intricate beat.

Intermission over, back to your seats. But now the arrangements start to mesh, becoming almost familiar from something you heard ten minutes ago—if it’s meant as one continuous stream from here-on-in, then it’s worked. Inoffensive loops of simplistic hooks take 80s disco influences with an atari edge, while The Casanova Wave is a shout of cartoonish glee, despite giving us nothing that wasn’t missing from the tracks that came before it. Only Kimota! saves the day, with the addition of louder and fuzzier loops and the nagging slight of someone messing around on drums in the next room but was caught on the recording.

The hooks here are catchy, repeating themselves enough times for you to catch on and keep up. However, the zombie-like imitation is temporary, with few proving memorable enough to hum un-guided. Saying this, radio-friendly karaoke is not top of the agenda here.

Joy of Being is a warm, happy record, too digitised and busy for an easy listen, but an easy listen never put an enormous smile on anyone’s face.