Modern Baseball – You’re
Gonna Miss it All
Run For Cover, 2014
At this point, in my curmudgeonly post-college radio days,
I’m mostly OK with limiting my exposure to new bands. The stable of bands I
love release albums in alternating years and I can easily max out at discovering
five or so new bands a year and be wholly satisfied. Such are the laurels of
someone who spent a solid three-and-a-half years trying to listen to every new
band in existence on the hunch that for every hundred shitty bands I listened
to, there were at least ten that I would love and maybe one that would change
my life.
Things are different now. These days, I troll the internet
for bands that look like they might hit that sweet spot on my heart that
vibrates at a frequency equal parts 1990s college rock, early 2000s pop punk,
primordial and heyday 1980s and 90s indie pop, and if I’m lucky, something that
satisfies all three. And a band name that doesn’t make me want to shout “PASS”
from the goddamn mountaintop. Modern Baseball satisfies most of my prerequisites,
and while they’re not going to change my life, I did spend the entire day
greatly enjoying to their two LPs. All because I love baseball and their name
was reminiscent of the band American Football. That’s all it took. Sometimes
I’m easy.
Modern Baseball’s great triumph is their ability to write
totally earnest songs without being self-aware in re their emo leanings. These
guys are too young to be pretentious fucks. Just look at these guys! There’s
just so much joy packed into these songs of youthful heartbreak, buoyed by
pop-punk sensibilities but orchestrated with a surprising amount of
professionalism and innovation. They’re not reinventing the wheel, but these
dudes know how to effortlessly execute hooks, big satisfying guitar blasts, and
a real, honest sense of fun. It’s all thoroughly charming.
On the nuts and bolts side of things, most of the songs
hover around the two-and-a-half minute mark which gets an A+ in my book (note:
my personal opinion on song length is if you go over three minutes, you better
have a good goddamn reason) and feature enough surprise stylistic change ups,
clever and playful lyrics (“Sharp as a tack not in the sense that I’m smart I’m
just a prick” is the line that permanently endeared me to this group) and the
hooks hit the pleasure centers in my brain while simultaneously tugging at my
heartstrings which get set off by the glorious sound of of pop punk being used
for good instead of mainstream evil.
Here's the terrific lead-off track "Fine, Great," but you can stream the full album over at Pitchfork if you want an earful.
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