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II
II in Bloomington, MN
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From the trippy neo-garage of
Ty Segall
to the urgent buzz of
the Men
and the anarchic punk of
Iceage
, the late aughts and early 2010s re-energized rock in many flavors, and with the addition of
Nude Beach
, the genre gets an expertly executed and irrepressibly fun infusion of feel-good, timeless American guitar pop. The Brooklyn-based trio debuted in 2010 but reached a bigger stage in 2012 with the
Other Music Recording Company
re-release of sophomore album
II
-- and given its infectious blend of classic rock scruff, power pop bounce, and punk pace it's no surprise the record quickly exhausted its original limited run on the
Mandible
label. This isn't a new approach, to be sure;
the Hold Steady
and
the Gaslight Anthem
served
Springsteen
-styled Rust Belt rock for a new generation in the mid-aughts, but where they sometimes fell more on the dad-ready side of the equation,
takes a cue from like-minded predecessors
the Exploding Hearts
the Reigning Sound
, consistently capturing a youthful exuberance that transcends the generation gap. Opener "Radio" makes the band's intentions crystal clear, a jangling, guitar riff-led reflection of returning to one's roots that evokes the simultaneous comfort of the familiar and the yearning for the new, begging to be played at a sticky-floored bar or on a long drive through the Midwest. And sure enough,
has the makings of a great rock & roll jukebox, the kind that folks used to thoughtfully fill by hand but which has since been phased out in most places by a digital version that favors more options over a personal touch. There's melodic, rough 'n' tumble rock ("Walkin' Down My Street"), carefree
Tom Petty
-style swagger ("Love Can't Wait"), and soulful,
Strange Boys
-esque blue-eyed R&B revival ("Loser in the Game"), balanced with the crooning "Don't Have to Try," pairing stirring organ undertones and sunrise-conjuring reverb in a slow dance. No,
aren't starting a revolution with
, but its well-crafted songs and raw-edged execution are just too damn joy-inspiring to deny. ~ Chrysta Cherrie
Ty Segall
to the urgent buzz of
the Men
and the anarchic punk of
Iceage
, the late aughts and early 2010s re-energized rock in many flavors, and with the addition of
Nude Beach
, the genre gets an expertly executed and irrepressibly fun infusion of feel-good, timeless American guitar pop. The Brooklyn-based trio debuted in 2010 but reached a bigger stage in 2012 with the
Other Music Recording Company
re-release of sophomore album
II
-- and given its infectious blend of classic rock scruff, power pop bounce, and punk pace it's no surprise the record quickly exhausted its original limited run on the
Mandible
label. This isn't a new approach, to be sure;
the Hold Steady
and
the Gaslight Anthem
served
Springsteen
-styled Rust Belt rock for a new generation in the mid-aughts, but where they sometimes fell more on the dad-ready side of the equation,
takes a cue from like-minded predecessors
the Exploding Hearts
the Reigning Sound
, consistently capturing a youthful exuberance that transcends the generation gap. Opener "Radio" makes the band's intentions crystal clear, a jangling, guitar riff-led reflection of returning to one's roots that evokes the simultaneous comfort of the familiar and the yearning for the new, begging to be played at a sticky-floored bar or on a long drive through the Midwest. And sure enough,
has the makings of a great rock & roll jukebox, the kind that folks used to thoughtfully fill by hand but which has since been phased out in most places by a digital version that favors more options over a personal touch. There's melodic, rough 'n' tumble rock ("Walkin' Down My Street"), carefree
Tom Petty
-style swagger ("Love Can't Wait"), and soulful,
Strange Boys
-esque blue-eyed R&B revival ("Loser in the Game"), balanced with the crooning "Don't Have to Try," pairing stirring organ undertones and sunrise-conjuring reverb in a slow dance. No,
aren't starting a revolution with
, but its well-crafted songs and raw-edged execution are just too damn joy-inspiring to deny. ~ Chrysta Cherrie
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