The Evening Sons


Far too many albums bombarded the desk last year, and try as I might, I just couldn’t get them all in under the wire before the ball dropped on ’23. There’s been plenty of love around here for Curation Records, the West Coast outpost that’s responsible for more than a few year-end favorites (Hollow Hand, Eric Silverman, Uni Boys) but there was far more pop fodder in their catalog that fueled the year. The label splits their allegiances pretty evenly between the Cosmic American corral and a new wave of power pop that feels familiar without recycling every well-worn riff out of the Yellow Pills pouch. Where Uni Boys fall pretty firmly into the ’70//80 axis, labelmates The Evening Sons scrounge up a more ‘90s approach. The Brighton band may have Big Star and Cheap Trick in their veins, but when they spill the blood it pools right around the ranks of Matthew Sweet, Sloan, and Velvet Crush.

Adorned with a fuzztone halo, the songs on Tracks delight in a more muscular tone, swatting away any ‘90s pop punk accusations as they chew on alt-rock gristle while lounging in the starry-eyed harmonies handed down from Badfinger to The Blondes. As might be expected from the genre, the band’s songs are rooted in pining for love gone wrong and palpitating for love’s next wave. Broken hearts, pedestal paramours, summer rain, and lost weekends wrap their fingers around the works on Tracks. There’s always a few waves of ‘90s nostalgia coming for the culture these days, but The Evening Sons make it feel enjoyable to rip through the ringer tee riffs of the past once more.

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