Half Sour are a faux-naive indie-pop outfit, straight outta Boston and from the sound of it. They are more North end rather than Southies it seems. When the opening blast of What Your Waiting jumps out of the speakers at you, it suggests this album is full of rather urgent sounding songs. Grump, the second track, even manages to sound like the guitars are mimicking a siren at the end of the song which is pretty neat
Chartreuse Rec Room almost sounds like they want to walk over Boston Common on the wrong day as instead of the normal assorted drug dealers and hippes etc they find some real straight folks to have a go at them. But then this real fuzzy guitar comes in to take my mind off imagined scenarios for the song.
i.k. is probably the song that most hints at the band’s roots, starting out sounding like a Guided By Voices covers band as it’s a cool indie power-pop, catchy as all hell song with a great guitar bit that twists at the right parts of your brain in time for everyone to scream “Whoa Oh!” a few times. Sensitive Rugby? They must be mistaken as I never played in a sensitive rugby match growing up and this song isn’t that sensitive either with its clattering guitars and almost J Mascis-style lazy vocals in places.
Pleasantly Whelmed has some great backing vocals to lift the song from being another indie blank and reminds me a bit of being a bit slanted but not too enchanted. Porch Sittin’ does remind me a bit of sitting in Newton Highlands on a porch reading Nietszche back in 1986. I’m back wondering what I’m doing in this big old house as the singer goes on about a supernova that I could have seen at night from the window.
Employees Must Wash Hands is the sort of song that might make you reach for the hibi scrub and get clean in a hail of guitars. Pop Art Pop Tart is a great song title and the poppy indie that goes with it is almost like Lush. It’s a cool song for sure. Topsider thankfully has nothing to do with the band of that name but instead sound like, well, Girls Against Boys.
Adult Friday just seemed to breeze past a bit too easily. Mood Monster, meanwhile, seems to be a rant at someone’s parents for not letting them wear black. Ha, as if any of us have ever had that argument! The album then closes with Fake Sandwich which is a noisy rant about a sandwich that lacks enough filling to be a real sandwich, if y’follow my drift.
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