With Love and Squalor is the debut LP from We Are Scientists, and while they've been self-releasing material since 2000, the album shows the exuberance of youth on every seam: lyrics about girls and drinking and little else, rhythms rushed just past danceability, guitar-heavy verses with even heavier guitars in the chorus, more hooks, more riffs, more syllables than needed in the word "explode"-- about 11 instead of two-- on opener "Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt".
Singer Keith Murray is the ringer of this scrappy crew. His calm, romantic delivery takes these constantly shifting tracks, with guitars filling every corner of the compositions, and makes them a little more palatable. For a band that's going to incur some Hot Hot Heat references for their spastic but accessible take on indie rock, his professional croon is a pleasant counterpoint to Steve Bays' yelp.
The band attempts to deliver a perfect single on every track, and expectedly, only a few deliver that rush. While "Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt" comes on a little too strong, the following "This Scene Is Dead" and "Inaction" quickly find their groove. "This Scene Is Dead" plays like a cuddlier version of Les Savy Fav's "The Sweat Descends", a few notes of guitar reverberating over the verses before a churning chorus, and "Inaction" loses no momentum through its rhythmic twists and turns.
The band does their best to change the beat and keep it fresh between the three of them (bass, guitar, and drums) while straddling the line between indie and pop-punk. But somewhere around "Cash Cow", a pattern starts to emerge: a herky-jerk indie-safe verse meets with soaring stretched vowels and downstrokes on the chorus. It's an effective formula, provided it isn't used on 12 consecutive tracks.
There are a few songs that transcend the cut-and-paste approach, like the punk-inflected "Callbacks", Murray's Devo-like inflection on the giddy repetition of "The Great Escape", and the slower "Can't Lose". On "Can't Lose", the rhythm section stutters like an engine with one piston, and while the chorus pulls the same trick as all the others, the band comes up with a brief bridge that's so unassuming and tender it contrasts with the entire album. Most of these tracks have hooks aimed straight for your jugular, but "Can't Lose" shows the band could go even farther with a little restraint.
