Believe it or not, there was a time when a screen-printed Fruit of the Loom t-shirt was all you could hope for from an artist's merchandise stall. Now we have Grimes' pussy rings, a Wavves' weed grinder, and a Dent May's SPF lip balm. Dent May's choice of totem feels particularly apt when listening to his latest record. If you're young and carefree then Do Things is the kind of record you want constantly at your side as a crowd-pleasing soundtrack to the summer. Its 10 songs make for an instantly welcoming, easy spin, with each hook borrowing deeply into you head thanks more to persistence than any particular potency.
The chorus of "Fun" feels like the record's quick-beating heart: "I don't know what's in store for me, but I think it's gonna be fun." That youthful sentiment is a long way from the angst of getting older, or worrying about the economy; instead Dent May just wants to kick back with major chords and party. He's even ditched his magnificent ukelele. In its place are spritely synths, airy acoustic guitars, and hints of psychedelia.
May's croon is still his best weapon and his well-laced harmonies help elevate much of the material here. At times he sounds uncannily like Brian Wilson, and the music of the Beach Boys looms large over the record. On "Tell Her", May seems to be sight-reading an only partially scrambled Wilson chord sequence. Alongside swooning, lilting harmonies, May's light smattering of electronics and synthesizers do just enough work to update the scene. That combination of sounds makes for a formula that May mines carefully on each track: "Best Friend" and "Don't Wait Too Long" both boast a little funk, but for much of Do Things May finds his range and sticks with it.
The one overcast moment comes via the title track. As if it weren't obvious enough, the sound of rain and thunder ushers the song in as May croons, "There was a time when I never thought that I'd feel good again." His usually positive outlook is darkened here for just a moment, but still never feels heavy; more Hollywood rainclouds than anything particularly malign. Despite being slightly unconvincing, the song offers a welcome contrast to the saccharine taste of the rest of the LP.
For all the good-natured vibes this record gives off, it's hard to ignore that Do Things is also a limited collection. It's easy to suspect Dent May's ambitions are as simple as to craft a record that finds itself endlessly stuffed into car stereos this summer. (There are too many lines like "When the mood's right, do what feels right" to ignore those basic teenage instincts.) But if escapism is what you want, Do Things won't be hard to find: it'll be the CD in a cracked case next to an SPF lip balm, and that's probably what Dent May wants.
