The first couple of times I listened to this, it sounded like pretty generic pop punk somewhere between Screeching Weasel and Lagwagon. I decided I’d give it one more listen, figuring, if I don’t hear something in it this time, I’m gonna send it to someone else who may like it. And, for some reason, it stuck. I heard something. A touch of the Thumbs rawness. A touch of D4 drum beats. I don’t know what it is, but there’s definitely something deeper going on in these songs. It’s growing on me. Then I read the liner notes. The bassist tells the story of how the Fairlanes graduated college and started moving away from the band and into the world of careers and other such nonsense, then realized that their hearts were really in this band and dedicated themselves to it full time. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s that random sense of sincerity that makes this a good album. Maybe I’m starting to sound like a football announcer talking about Warrick Dunn’s “heart.” I’m gonna stop now.
–sean (Suburban Home)