3 out of 5

Label: Biotope Records

Produced by: 池田洋 (recorded by, mixed by)

A 90s alt-rock time capsule, mixing Breeders’ noisy melodies with That Dog. sing-song harmonies and hooks, and elevated further by リーガルリリー’s charmingly loose and shambling passion, The Radio succinctly moves through six pieces of guitar-centric pop, though only solves its own equation to perfection about half the time. This seems somewhat intrinsic to their sound, though: the group is trawling through riffage that will feel familiar to 90s grunge fans, but it’s not bound to the same kind of off-hand sarcasm or snide that characterized much of that era’s tone; instead, リーガルリリー sound earnest; and confident in that. That’s what allows for its greatest moments of frayed edges, typified in the warbling howls that conclude the opener, or the wall of sound toward which the closer builds and builds. Balancing that, then, is the stuff with those edges sanded down, where harmonies and bop-bop melodies take the lead. This stuff is instantly appealing – it’s weighty, or prettily melancholy – but also rather fleeting, straying just to the left of landing an all-time hook or big-ass chorus in favor of a pretty good one, and a pretty emotional moment. Again, though, that feels bound up in the group’s sound, which can’t veer too far one way or the other for too long without changing their balance of meekness – an accessibility in the heavy rock sound – and boldness – the shockingly off-key moments, and blasts of aggression. Rewardingly, though, buried within even these less direct tunes there’s quite a bit: the three piece make full use of their interplay, as does the production, creating a lot of space for guitar, bass and drums to add some flair to our verse-chorus-verse.

Still, I can’t deny I’d enjoy hearing the band reach for the skies on one or two more songs, and look forward to hearing how such a balance might work when they get past the mini-album stage of their career.