polaroids of androids

I am a sucker for a strange voice. On eleven different occasions over the past 2 years I have claimed the sun shines brightly from the rectum of Spencer Krug, and on more times than I count I have claimed my hate for those bands 'where the singer sounds has a nice voice'.

With not as much anticipation as the other indie releases it is sandwiched between, this album could get easily overlooked until the middle of the year, when people come down from their first quarter indie high. I was probably more excited about this album and many others that were scheduled for 'early oh seven', with Clap Your Hands' fantastic debut flooring me with it's great , unique pop sound.

I had originally planned to harsly review this album. Upon first listens it's a weaker a version of their first album, lacking the punch and 'oh my god that songs was incredible' reaction that their first romp had. Upon further listens I have decided that it's not that at all.

It's less poppy, there is no doubt about that. The 3 minute 30 indie-pop masterpieces from their debut have vanished, replaced instead with songs that delve into a more emotional, and fuller sound. Music with more substance and feeling. Music which will demand a reaction from the listener.

Give this album a little bit of time and I am sure you will find it is a step forward in regards to the Brooklyn group creating a richer and essentially more rewarding sound.