Various Edgy Quirks Bring Character To The Neighbourhood

When you wake from sleep a readjustment process kicks into gear. You're blending back in with the relative safety of your bedroom and its various accessories. Reality's harder edges come back into focus. The common thread throughout California indie-pop's The Neighbourhood's first full length CD "I Love You" is an enticing bank of musical fog draped over globetrotting man of mystery plot devices. Numb is captivating on all songs. That's the polar opposite reaction you'd have to pre-sleep lethargy, the physical stimuli of your day to day as soft and non-confrontational as it's going to get. Vocalist Jesse Rutherford deserves kudos for his uncompromisingly molded windows into numerous prickly sentimental questions. For example "Alley Ways" delivers a hefty hunk of childhood nostalgia that doesn't commit the sin of being ladled on so thick that you can't taste the bare bones of the composition. As for "Everybody's Watching Me (Uh Oh)" the pea soup fog rolls out with undeniable fervor, particularly at the end where Jesse's journey towards an escape valve scales the rungs of precariousness. "How" ponders Supreme Being existence within the parameters of an eerie, ominous playscape. Bryan Sammis is no lightweight on drums. Jesse stumbles after the answer to how he could be labeled "great" if the she in his life spits on him. Jesse's thwarted conversational closure merits repeated listenings. "Afraid" similarly charts a course in which Jesse's lyrical bravado isn't (O, the irony) afraid to violate its adversary's discomfort zone. "You suck anyway" rates as pretty scathing dismissive exchange of idea. "WDYWFM (What Do You Want From Me)" peels back the raw wound incurred by wobbly male-female attempts to break through ice. Jesse's left presuming he's the something wrong in that relationship. Seeds of doubt seldom blossom into a beautiful flower. The wobbly note progression is apt for this arena of war games with one's own psyche. Hip-hop intelligence rears its nappy head during "Staying Up". Not necessarily what you'd expect from a song opening with a retro toy piano pattern. Though The Neighbourhood is tagged as indie-rock "Staying Up" possesses a wordsmith's wizardry with as much business scratch factoring as likes of a Jay-Z or Lil' Wayne. These lyrics hint at wildly misplaced priorities. The man's got no food to eat. He's in his basement crankin' out rap beats. His marquee question is: "If I can't dream how can I sleep?" Ideal graveyard hours poetry. Existentialists rejoice. "Float" has your million dollar pearl of wisdom, namely the statement: "Life only means partly anything." What a magnificent bolt of rock lightning again decorated in voyeurism worthy intrigue. This is one neighborhood you should visit. So much character.