In the spirit of classifying any remotely poppy album released between May and August as a "summer album," Old Home Movies really hits a sweet spot right about now. There's surfer reverb, slouching croons, and sunny melodies all over the Botticellis' debut album, and, to top it off, the band hails from San Francisco. Written over the last four years in between day jobs, Movies proves an airtight first effort, the band's deliberation is apparent in every shrewdly placed nook and cranny.
Frontman Alexi Glickman possesses a fitting nursery rhyme cadence for the band's nostalgic surf pop. Named after a barrel-shaped wave the band finds particularly gnarly, the Botticellis wouldn't know stormy weather if it rained on their bonfire. The opening title track bounces along like a Walkmen track fresh out of rehab, Glickman's rosy reminiscing unaffected by lyrics about Alaska and snow. "New Room" shows off saccharine hooks on par with the Shins yet sharing the lethargic quality of Papercuts' Jason Quever, who coincidentally provides some spot drumming and engineered the album with Scott Solter.
At its strongest, the band manages to inject its happy-go-lucky sound with at least a few pangs of sadness and/or mystery. "When I Call" crawls through spikey guitar arpeggios and a haunting vocal from Glickman, so sedated it could pass for a Yo La Tengo track. Glickman pulls off some great British Invasion-like gems, too, aided by the fact that his voice eerily resembles George Harrison's or, one of the most Beatles-esque non-Beatles, Jeff Lynne. "Flashlight" and "Who Are You Now" share ELO's grandiose interpretation of the fab four's pop sensibilities, though it's considerably tempered by the Botticellis' laid-back vibe.
The main beef here, if you want to call it that, is the tendency to sometimes lapse into nondescript MOR. "Stay With My Brother" and "Tongue Is Blue" match the album's lax pulse, but wander aimlessly in a comfort pop zone. Glickman's charisma also hasn't quite caught up yet with his songwriting, either, making for lots of memorable hooks couched in a limited range of expression. There's basically soothing and slightly louder soothing, which is fine if you don't mind investing next to nothing in lyrics or dramatic climaxes. Despite these setbacks, there's nothing to despise about these fresh-faced upstarts-- and really not much to gush over, either-- but Old Home Movies meets its sun-soaked influences with a firm high-five. Hot dogs on the grill, anyone?
