Californians, you can no longer survive by your insistent love of surf rock. We, the citizens of the world, a good majority of which do not have readily accessible beaches for most of the year, are hereby calling you to just stop. This lackadaisical, dismissive indifference to the world at large, codified by the slacker rock that Burger Records has taken as their cultural duty to commit to physical media, will not fly. I’m being a bit of a dick here, I’ve just heard too many of these surf-rock-by-way-of-dream-pop albums and none of them stick at all. There are moments where this record breaks through the dreamy gaze and ferociously states its intentions, but those moments are few. Perhaps it is my inner old man speaking, but if you use “Sk8” in a song title and it doesn’t seem like an obvious joke, just don’t. I can’t handle that kind of stress in my life anymore. Grade: C+.
–Bryan Static (Burger, burgerrecords.org)