There's something about the fresh-faced, upbeat kind of guitar pop that L.A.'s Army Navy traffics in that seems to attract weekend warriors. This music causes otherwise-mild, thirtysomething white men to abandon more practical pursuits in order to sing open-hearted songs of sexless yearning brimming with sha-la-las, handclaps, and chiming 12-string guitar. Robert Pollard-- schoolteacher turned indie rock star-- is the drunken patron saint of this set, and every year brings a new batch of hopefuls in the "perfect three-minute Merseybeat-era pop tune" sweepstakes, the Kinks, Hollies and Dave Clark Five records of their (or their father's) youth ringing in their ears.
Keeping with the trend, all members of Army Navy were otherwise engaged when lead singer and songwriter Justin Kennedy, then working as a wardrobe stylist, assembled them. With the assistance of one disproportionately famous member-- Pete Thomas, former drummer for the Attractions (Doug Randall and Josh Zetumer also play here, and Randall is the band's current drummer)-- they have crafted a bubbly, effervescent valentine to obscure power pop bands of the late 1970s and early 80s. Their self-titled debut combines the perky bounce of the original bands with the beefed-up sonics of the 90s revivalists like the Posies and Teenage Fanclub, and the results are infectious enough to inspire a whole new batch of misbegotten hopefuls.
Kennedy's songwriting references so many sources that trying to figure out exactly which three or four guitar bands he's channeling should provoke heated discussion. For a rock critic, tracking all the echoes quickly becomes madman's work: the soft bed of guitars that opens "Saints" is pure Teenage Fanclub, for instance, while Kennedy's bright, nasal tenor is a dead ringer for Apples in Stereo's Robert Schneider at some points and eerily reminiscent of the dB's' Chris Stamey at others. In any case, the constant low-grade déjà vu is a boon in an intentionally derivative subgenre like power pop, where being a well-studied song encyclopedia is half the point.
The other half, of course, is to write songs that are great by themselves, and Army Navy is a blast even if you've never heard of Bomp! Records. The melodies expertly blend heartache and insouciance, so even when Kennedy offers something as pointed as "Believe me when I call and I say/ The next girl that I love won't be a saint/ Now go away," it sighs rather than sneers. Contemplative midtempo numbers like "Slight of Hand", "In the Lime", and the achingly pretty "Golden Pony" split time with upbeat rockers like "My Thin Sides", where the hyperactive drumming buoys a jigging little guitar figure. Nearly every track boasts a breakdown or a bridge as fully realized and catchy as the enormous choruses: Kennedy is the kind of guy who believes firmly in the power of the middle eight.
But the classic moment, the three minutes of pure alchemy that capture the swagger, vulnerability, and goofy joy that defines the best of power pop, comes from the single cover-- Maxine Nightingale's 1975 smash "Right Back Where We Started From". It's a head-smackingly perfect song choice: a time-warp and a gender-warp, a boy singing a girl's song that was written during the disco era to remind people of the Motown era. The guitars shimmer, groove, and swing; pianos pound while handclaps ricochet off the downbeat; and Pete Thomas does the big-beat Dave Clark Five caveman pound on the chorus, which comes back again and again, never losing an ounce of joyousness. It's exactly this sort of effortless charm that causes accountant dads to start eyeing their long-dormant six-strings.
