Baroque west-coast folk pop with a lyrical ear for the concerns of the present day.
From the sunny reaches of Northern California hail The Corner Laughers. This is their first album in five years, it seems, after 2020’s lockdown affected Temescal Telegraph.
Coming from the land of sunshine, sea, sand and surf, it’s perhaps not surprising to find that this album is drenched in melody and musical catchiness, albeit tempered with and juxtaposed by some swatches of lyrical darkness.
Bravely, the opening track, Terra Mia, starts with a strummed ukulele riff before a Latin-flavoured, catchy sway-along chorus. Vocally, singer Karla Kane is reminiscent of a 1970s Playschool presenter; that’s not a bad thing, there’s vibrancy and innocent joy in that comparison.
There’s no escape from the melodic hooks with Dusking, which seems to come down in a sort of wavy line from the likes of Spanky and Our Gang. The word “crepuscular” is used effectively, too, amidst the twang and harmonies on display. Rainbow Cardigan is again ukulele anchored and sounds like the musical comedians Garfunkel and Oates might have done if they’d gone down a more serious route: lyrics tumble along at a breathless pace with structured philosophical musings on age.
Crumb Clean hits immediately with its “Doo doo da doo” opening and apes the style of a cheery early 70s household advert. If they made a video for this, there would be so much smiling. This wasn’t one of the previously released singles, but it’s so catchy that it must have been tough to choose one over this.
The Harvestman is a slower-paced 60s girl-group type singalong that explores similar territory to recent releases from The Lostines, with its oohs and ahhhs and light double-tracking harmony on the lead vocal. Dark Matter, one of the two singles that were released prior to the album, juxtaposes, as its title suggests, more serious concerns like the uniting and organising of outsiders, with an insistent melody and bubbling synths.
Red Yarrow, Yellow Yarrow, try saying that even before you’ve had a drink, is another dose of 60s easy listening that would crop up from the United Artists label roster at that time. Not content with the tongue-twisting title, there’s more fricative and sibilant games going on in the lyrical choices, too.
Universe Point leaps forward a decade into Cheap Trick territory before Victoria Sponge moves into view. It’s lyrically an odd one, mixing ecological matters, Victorian ghosts, and the cake recipe. Quirky is the best word for this one. It goes without saying that it’s catchy, but with more minor chord darkness than elsewhere on the album.
Larkspur Landing, which closes things out again, raises ecological matters, set against a tick-tock rhythm, carries echoes of the likes of The Cowsills, Harper’s Bazaar, and The Association. In doing that, it’s a good summation of the sound of this album: baroque West Coast folk-pop with a lyrical ear for the concerns of the present day. Fabulous melodies are everywhere on this album; that amount of bubble-gum goodness might be a bit much to take in one go, but taken in small doses, there’s a lot to like here for fans of pure classic pop.
