Everyone sounds like the Beatles; that's the whole point. The reason the Beatles are so universally popular is because they undressed pop music to its fundamental hooks, excising the fatty matter that distracts or bores listeners. Thus, to draw comparisons to the Beatles is to say a band writes catchy, agreeable pop music—which means close to nothing.
But something about the Smith Westerns' 2009 self-titled debut invoked more substance from that comparison. Back then the Smith Westerns were just a group of four high schoolers, all cute cuts and wide-eyed ignorance. Each song was a crafty exercise in teenage innocence and distorted ambivalence. There was little more to them than infectious hooks and boyish grins, and it was as if the songs happened by happenstance more than actual practice.
The same was true of Smith Westerns' tourmates and fellow youthful poppers MGMT and their inescapable debut record. But the sizable flop of MGMT's sophomore album last summer revealed the one big difference between the two: MGMT stumbled upon a few gigantic hits with studied pop hooks and surrounded them with unfiltered ideas that often missed the mark, whereas Smith Westerns' pop hooks are too instinctive to fall flat. Smith Westerns had no pageantry, just pop born of innate cues. It requires a natural understanding of melody that can't really be taught, but it's perpetually replicable. The Beatles made 12 hit records based on this simple quality. With the Smith Westerns' latest LP, Dye It Blonde, they have two.
As expected on a sophomore release as revered as this one, the production quality is vastly improved. The guitars are distinct, the drums are crisp, the bass is audible; but most surprising is how much more mature these guys sound. Lead singer Cullen Omori's vocals are more pronounced, and his lyrics are more involved.
But that's not to say they're not still lovelorn. The reprise on album opener ""Weekend"" confesses that ""Weekends are never fun / Unless you're around here too;"" and on ""Only One"" Omori confesses that he makes a point to ""Spend my time wondering if you're falling in love with me."" Omori's always vulnerable, but he stays composed.
They show a rare lack of restraint on the sped-up interpretation of last year's ""Imagine, Pt. 3."" Instead of ushering in the bursting chorus like on last year's split 7"" with the Magic Kids, the trotting verse gallops right through the song's sweltering drags.
But they follow that with a slow-burning organ that swells to a lighter-waving sing-along on ""All Die Young."" It's a massive landscape, but it still sounds natural, bred from an instinctive grasp on the forms of pop music.
Dye It Blonde hits hardest nine songs in. A hastened guitar throws ""Dance Away"" into a flurry of activity, teetering on recklessness. But just when it seems like they're going to lose their grip, they swirl it into a knot and deliver a compelling and complex arrangement for the chorus.
Although they do well to vary the finer points, a lot of Dye It Blonde's larger format is fairly formulaic. They lay down a soft palate in the opening verse before stretching out to a grand chorus. It's a loud/soft dynamic that also stretches scope and depth.
Yet if anything, that only goes to show how masterful Smith Westerns are with their hooks. They might have re-written the same song six or seven different times, but not a single one of them sounds the same. They're getting more adventurous with their ingredients, and slowly teaching themselves how to be master chefs—and given their age it's easy to salivate over what else they're capable of doing.
Still, it's hard to talk about Smith Westerns in terms of potential. Dye It Blonde is a casual triumph—the kind of thing that sounds so effortless that it's basically teasing us for what's to come. But the effortlessness is exactly what gives Smith Westerns their appeal, and to exert effort would be to diminish their natural gifts. Dye It Blonde shows a band learning to exploit their strengths in challenging and fun ways. It's the kind of tirelessly engaging album that makes potential seem irrelevant.
