Five lads converge from Memphis, Philadelphia, Portland, Saginaw, and Springfield, Illinoise to plot the doom of Music City, USA. But their particular brand of subterfuge is no blunt instrument - psychedelic kisses of vocal harmony, jangles of Byrdsian strings, and fits of Who knows what else inform an ultimately poppy sensibility, to be sure. Guitars figure, surprises linger, and the songs cut a sonic path to a glassy reservoir that’s warmly familiar, yet refreshingly cool. Get in there, friend.