The Drums

He frets ceaselessly about love and mortality, but the songs' twitchy, hummable effervescence seems to vanquish all the world's problems.

In the end, the endless connotation of yesteryear ultimately elevates the Drums's work beyond its innate simplicity and innocence.

It's an old, limited vocabulary, but the Drums know its every nuance.

The Drums' sound is still distinctive, and even if the album feels a little calculated at times, it's still greater than the sum of its parts.

Nevertheless, their strengths far outweigh any perceived weaknesses, and despite the odd trite lyrical observation, The Drums is undoubtedly the most rejuvenating, sprightliest guitar-based pop record released this year.

Like Vampire Weekend's debut, all the tracks are immediate but they run the risk of running before they can walk, wearing thin and growing tired because there's nothing to unearth on the 100th, or even the 10th listen. But, taken at face value, they're riding well above their own wave of hype - expect to hear this record everywhere this summer.

More than anything, the album's quality is a relief. The Drums have proved that for all the prevalence of glittery synth-carting unicorn-botherers in our times, there's still a hurricane of heartsore life in guitar pop.

Pierce's vulnerability isn't an affectation or a device. It's disarmingly sincere, expressed through poignant lyrics bereft of cheap sentimentality. And it's this inclusive, generous ethos that elevates the band into a rarified echelon, with the potential to achieve even greater things down the road.

Therein lies the sentimenta heart of the indie dream: The Drums provide its steadiest beat in years. [Jul 2010, p.134]

It's a breath of fresh (summer) air. [Jul 2010, p.94]

There is just as much evidence to suggest--particularly in the album's less exuberant but more revelatory second half--that the band this band truly excels in more intimate spaces.

The Drums are no longer teens, admittedly, but their record skilfully conjures a time long before credit crunches, when the most important thing in the world was your current squeeze.

What The Drums lack in originality and authenticity they make up for with some of the purest moments of fun and summertime joy this side of the next Eighties revival.

Being crazily upbeat to the point of irritation (pushing bittersweet too far with a sunny electro tune about the death of a friend), making stupid mistakes ('Skipping' Town' might as well be called 'Let's Go Water Ski-ing'), and generally proving that trying to impose happiness on the Factory sound--being the Joyful Division--doesn't quite work. And still...there's a lot to cherish too.

As a whole, The Drums is a conflicting package. The band has reined in its eccentricities considerably, and when post-punk and C86 remains so prominent, this seems a dangerous thing.

The album is overall fun, though it is at times repetitive and is best enjoyed in small doses.

After years of landfill indie's dispiriting predictability, the Drums' pallid mithering is certainly different, but it feels like a pose, and a limited one at that.

You suspect that The Drums want it a bit too much, making for an album that's not quite as nonchalant and breezy as it ought to be. [Jul 2010, p.110]

Singer Jonathan Pierce moans stuff like "Run till the end of time/Until our hearts are aligned into the sky" over a 1980s pulse, but the forlorn-bubblegum formula feels vapid stretched over an album.

The album's second half suffers from a considerable drop-off in quality after the relatively strong first half.