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BANDS: Punk
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Years:
Self-Titled
If Mark Lanegan channeled Thom Yorke fronting Coldplay covering The Grays, you might end up with Years. Such lazy criticism, I know, but Years hits the ground running with their eponymous debut, a surprisingly tuneful collection of prog-rock lullabies and dream pop ditties. Featuring a number of standout tracks, from the rousing Hats Off, to the Bends-ish Man Overboard, to the Yellow-meets-Trouble hybrid Falling Stars, to Lets Go Away, the sincerest plea for sex youll here ever hear this side of Dave Matthews (and a gorgeous tune to boot), this album is the obvious product of years of melodic-rock appreciation. That they employ the hook-and-song approach so well should separate them from their contemporaries all those sensitive rocker-types cashing in on the Coldplay gravy train (or should I say being cashed-in on). Theyre fine musicians as well, featuring an outstanding rhythm section (hey, killer drum tones) and intricate guitar moments that suggest Built to Spill, less the syrupy axe lines. On songs like Day By Day, notes tickle the air bending, climbing and diving to sublime ends. Thats not to draw attention away from singer Ron Louque as a competent lyricist. He may not be Morrissey, but hes no Maroon 5 either. And though theres much left to be desired, he offers enough here for sensitive, male college graduates to get excited about. Speaking of whom, the band does seem to capture that whole quarter-life crisis vibe well you know, the one thats so colored with lust, self-doubt, disillusionment, and lingering mistrust for the Establishment. They do this almost as well as drawing inspiration from their influences (listen to Say Its Alright somewhere a harmony from Because is missing).
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