The Mary Onettes
Islands
(Labrador, 2009)

With synth-pop still pulsing in clubs and Jesus and Mary Chain clones continuing to draw, um, buzz to their linty bubblegum, it’s only a matter of time before the ’80s revival has officially gone on longer than the ’80s themselves. Even the Mary Onettes—a Swedish four-piece drawing on radio-ready, mega-produced pop songs—are still relatively early in their life cycle, releasing their sophomore album here in the decade’s dying months. Their self-titled debut album, from 2007, boasted at least one crypto-cover of “I Melt with You” (“Lost”), and like their countrymen in the Shout Out Louds, that kind of head-cold-afflicted Scandinavian English inflection makes the Cure comparisons even more inevitable. (Bonuses: A bit of eyeliner goth, the “Be My Baby” drum intro, and some, god help me but the word does apply, angular New Order keyboard lines. It’s a fun record, and you should totally check it out.)

But unlike the first record, there is a crucial difference between Islands and the awesomely ’80s one-hitters whose moves it bites: The choruses. As far as atmosphere goes, Islands has teen-movie drama to spare—but there are precious few of the kinds of hooks that’ll send you leaping over the driver’s shoulder from the back seat to grab the volume knob (after which the driver will join you in singing along too, momentarily forgetting the fact that you almost sent the car off the road).

Which isn’t to say there aren’t standouts—in opener “Puzzles”, a rising and falling string-section line stutter-steps up to the big chorus. “I’m going out to stay up all night” isn’t quite “I want to see people and I want to see light,” despite lead singer Philip Ekström’s efforts to sell it as such, but when he asks “Do you feel strange on the inside?” the appeal to the sensitive adolescent in all of us is affecting and genre-appropriate.

The yearning is present throughout, and if the mopey “Cry for Love” (as in, “don’t, don’t, don’t… cry for love”) is eminently skippable, the plinky, strummy “The Disappearance of My Youth” has a smooth horn section to really emphasize the depth of emotion we’re dealing with here. The coveted “Most Histrionic Song Title” laurels, however, go to the wistful, bass-lined “God Knows I Had Plans” (just edging out “Once I Was Pretty”).

The later cut “Symmetry” thrums and slow-burns in the mode of the Church or Echo and the Bunnymen, giving a bit of urgency to the sometimes wishy-washy emoting, and its follow-up “Century” is probably the closest Islands gets to end-credits material, what with the upbeat drumbeat and jangle paired with wistful wailing from Ekström.

Synths shimmer, guitars chime, and drums echo throughout—the Mary Onettes are earnest students of their own record collection, with all the sincerity that implies. By the time the album ends, with the meek-to-epic “Bricks”, you’ll hear Ekström talking about whether or not the object of his affections is “a brick in the wall”—yeah, these guys probably learned English from the radio. Which is corny, yes, but understandable, no? And if you like the songs they like as much as they like them, you’ll like their songs too (still with me?). Or, at the very least, you’ll be moved by their effort.

Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]

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