Let’s get it out of the way: So much of today’s so-called indie pop is identical and unoriginal. Hardly anyone is making an effort to divert from the same stock sound that The Shins popularized with Oh, Inverted World more than 10 years ago.
Tennis, a Denver-based husband-and-wife duo (plus a drummer), seemed destined to be plagued by such unbearable triteness. Its debut record, Cape Dory, was solid background music, featuring a generally unmemorable sound (think Dum Dum Girls but with less feedback) dispersed over a few standout tracks and many other forgettable ones. Besides those few standout songs and one excellent cover of The Zombies’ “Tell Her No,” there was not much to suggest a long-lasting career for the band.
But Tennis has kicked that presumption to the curb with its new album. Young & Old, its wonderful new record produced by Patrick Carney of The Black Keys, is a muscled-up, infectious record of 10 near-flawless songs. Its fully revved engine of catchy brilliance is insanely likable and undeniably euphoric, announcing its presence with a stampede of warm, wistful melodies before banging on the door of perfection with a surfboard in one hand and a broken heart in the other.
The sprawling opening track “It All Feels the Same” starts the album right with a breezy guitar riff before tumbling toward a climax that never comes. It symbolizes the intense longing that permeates this entire record, like waiting for a love that will never come. “We could be good,” moans singer Alaina Moore. “But we don’t live the way that we should.”
The album is peppered with breathless attention to detail (kudos to Carney). Listen to the piano touches on the bridge of “High Road,” or the maracas that round out the strutting beat on “Dreaming.” You’ll have to listen again and again to catch every little nuance.
In the end, Young & Old may earn its share of favorable reviews because it showcases a band fully and stagnantly comfortable in its own skin. In fact, it doesn’t divert much from its early Beach Boys-indebted sound. In terms of writing individual songs, however, Tennis earns an ace — both for unexpected hooks and melodies and for its ability to produce a great record even while adhering to recent indie pop’s grating formula.
VERDICT: At only 33 minutes, Young & Old is a lean but outstandingly crafted rock record.
diversions@umdbk.com
