I’m sure I’ve been accused of being “the girl who cried Leatherface” before, but, really, this time I mean it. Take a bit of the gravel and rasp out of Frankie Stubb’s voice and you’d have Penn’s Woods. And not at all in a bad way; it’s not like they’re totally biting their sound. The melodies, lyrics, and cadence are all their own—but you can tell that these guys grew up with what is my favorite British band, right behind The Smiths. As soon as I put this on, I got those heartstring tugs and swelling of emotions, just as if I ran into an old friend or an unrequited love. These are my preferred bristles of the wide brush of pop punk that we paint on countless bands. And Penn’s Woods makes me want to blast What Good We Do just as much as Mush—falling in step with every beat and belting out every word until I’m as hoarse and raspy as Stubbs. Flowery language and poetic waxing aside, this album very well will make my Best of 2015 list.
–Kayla Greet (Secret Pennies)