Every couple of years, people grow tired of the sluggish parade of morose rock bands and NME drivel, and harken nostalgically back to the days before "pop" was a four-letter word, seeking rock music that's unselfconscious, simple, and punchy. At least, that's what Everybody Else, a shaggy-haired trio of LA transplants, is banking on. In order to stake the odds on their side, however, they've named their band after a Kinks B-Side, slammed some "doo-doops" and bouncy, stuttering percussion over the framework of their economical, sixties-spirited pop songs, and devoted the entire lyrical content of their self-titled debut record to the essential nuances of getting girls. It’s a pretty classic formula, but with Everybody Else -- although their three-part harmonies are impeccable, the production bubblegum-crisp, and the occasional moments of acoustic balladry sure to set modern bobby-soxers aflame -- the music, overall, lacks imagination, veering much closer to Phantom Planet territory than the Cars and Cheap Trick radio gems that Everybody Else so clearly grew up on.
~ Claire L. Evans
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