Let’s table the discussion of what Thumpers sound like for a second and acknowledge the most important aspect of the UK duo’s debut album Galore: it has been dying to meet you. Could not be more excited. Think of when you’re visiting a friend’s house for the first time and they warmly warn you about how their bull mastiff can be awfully playful around new friends. It could be doing absolutely nothing all day and the moment you step in the door, they spring into action to waylay you with slobbering affection. And if you act surprised, or god forbid, resist it, you’re going to look like kind of an asshole. Sound familiar? Got that? Still in? Cool, because that’s pretty much what happens the moment you press play on Galore.
As far as what it sounds like, well, if the name “Thumpers” brings to mind the adorable rabbit from Bambi doing his thing on giant floor toms, you’re on the right track. The fifth track on Galore is called “Come on Strong”, and it’s the record’s thematic mission statement, filled as it is with extroverted melodies, booming, insistent drums and glimmering production. It’s cute, percussive, motormouthed music that’s particularly prevalent and successful in Thumpers’ neck of the woods. But, god bless Thumpers, they don’t want to alienate a single one of you, so singles like “Unkinder (A Tougher Love)” and “Dancing’s Done” bound forward like Winnie the Pooh and his gang, and for better or worse, they forgo the eccentricities of their peers—they aren’t as glitchy as Alt-J, as annoyingly overstuffed as Everything Everything, or as flaccid as Two Door Cinema Club. By the same token, they aren’t as adventurous as Bombay Bicycle Club or dancefloor-oriented as John Hamson, Jr.’s former gig Friendly Fires.
In fact, Thumpers sound downright American—partly because they draw a lot of their sounds from post-Feels Animal Collective, but also due to their shock and awe policy of performing cannonballs without any concern for the splashback. Though a field recording of London’s idyllic Regent’s Canal graces opener “Marvel”, look at the cover, for crying out loud. These songs take place in swimming pools, but their aw-shucks attitude suggest they’re swimming holes. Likewise, even if the dominant theme in these songs are making your most treasured summer memories right now, they’re so stoked about them that they’re just going to drop Galore right in the middle of February. They just can’t wait three more months.
But the charm offensive can turn flat-out offensive if Galore catches you on the wrong day, and if that’s the case, you can look smack in the middle of the tracklist for the culprit: “Now We Are Sixteen” [ft. Summer Camp]. Not so much the song itself, though its dippy coed balladry does make for the weakest song here. Just read the title. If 2009’s obsession with the rudimentary aspects of nostalgia now triggers a certain kind of PTSD, Galore can be a pretty bad trip. The first words Marcus Pepperell sings are “stay young” and throughout he tries to speak in the language of hormonal teens: “we’re tired but ripe,” “bed jumping, him and her are full of passions tonight,” Or, there’s the irrepressible and extremely grating superball arrangements of “Tame” and “Roller”, which remind you of just how masterfully Merriweather Post Pavilion danced in a hippie-indie drum circle without just bouncing around the room.
No genre or band has ownership of the sound of a wet, hot American summer—you can hear it in any number of rock acts from Japandroids to Mikal Croninspecifically, or most strains of hip-hop, country or pop music. Yes, there’s pretty of sunlight on Galore, but no heat or friction, as everything from the production to Pepperell’s enunciation is so glassy that all of these somersaulting hooks might as well be gibberish. Sometimes, they are—“Tame” literally is built on “hummina, hummina.”
The real issue is more inherent in their accurately and unfortunately named collaborators on “Now We Are Sixteen”: no matter how enthusiastic and endearing Thumpers are on Galore, they’re camp counselors. Sure, they’re invested and they relate and they’ll do everything in their power to facilitate your good time. Problem is, there’s a disconnect: they can’t join you. And they’d prefer it if you kept the fun good and clean, so your parents don’t find out. And then you remember the sage lesson Thumpers’ namesake had imparted by his parents: "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all." Good advice, but not the kind of earnest, rule-following that leads to the sort of adventures Galore so badly wants to be a part of.
