The Crabs

Having holed up and hidden away for the most part since their 1999 album Sand and Sea, Oregon duo The Crabs kept a quieter vision of the band in the context of forming a family. Over the last decade, give or take a few years, the band had begun to work on a series of singles that kept their Northwest pop flame lit. Recorded at The Unknown in Anacortes, WA, with Phil Elverum (The Microphones, Mount Eerie), the band brought their children into the fold from early on, adding drums and keys with steadily increasing skill as they grew from 7 and 12 on. While the collection traces the family’s close knit collaborations, it also swings the spotlight back to John Lunsford and Lisa Jackson’s songwriting, something that is imbued with the kind of loose and limber harmonies that bring to mind The Vaselines, Beat Happening, They Might Be Giants.

Hung on hummable hooks and ramshackle harmonies, the songs on Years at the Unknown weave together like a long loved afghan slung over the couch. There’s a sing-a-long charm to songs like “Let’s Hope It Comes Later,” and the handclap-clad “The World Explodes,” but the band leaves room for some smoother edges on “Something Wicked” marking the progression of the players over the years. In an age when many contemporaries are cranking out albums at a furious pace, it’s nice to find an album that ferments a bit. That the band makes it feel completely congruous is the biggest testament to John and Lisa’s works. There’s little of the patchwork feeling that went into the record, making even the kid-centric instrumental “No Strings Attached” feel like a natural breathing point. As charming a record as you’re likely to stumble upon in 2025, and well worth the wait.

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