The So So Glos

By any objective descriptor, the So So Glos self-titled debut doesn't go anywhere that a generation of California punk-poppers didn't pogo previously. But what it lacks in newness, it makes up for by never being anything less than a total blast of teen power. The mercilessly uptempo tunes the Brooklyn quartet lay out are almost across-the-board fantastic, finding fresh combinations of surprising choruses, gleeful crescendos, gang vocals, and several dozen other tricks. Even when they make a jump into a glistening, acoustic power pop strum such as "Irish Rose," their cascading, brotherly harmonies are effortless and enjoyable, even if mercilessly uptempo punk-pop isn't necessarily the freshest new sound one is looking for. While the disc might be the Brooklyn quartet's proper debut, brothers Ryan and Alex Levine and half-sibling Zach Staggers had been playing music together for at least a decade-and-a-half previous prior to this incarnation and one can hear all kinds of different ideas packed into the constantly changing songs: bouncing reggae organ ("Junkie Story"), grunge howls ("Ruskie Kills Femme"), and a collective, life-long pull to music they're making, adolescent and before. It rocks naturally and convincingly, even when the occasional boogie-woogie piano ("Broken Mirror") seems an odd appendage. They're also self-referential, dropping references to their own name throughout ("From Her Beacon Hand, Glos"). It's more than a promising start and a less than full realization for a band that seems destined to be happily and never fully realized. ~ Jesse Jarnow|