The Little Ones review
The Little Ones
Morning Tide
(Chop Shop/Atlantic)
On a 2006 EP, Los Angeles-based quintet The Little Ones reminisced “Way back when, we were the latest around.” Through protracted label twists and turns their sell-by date drew ever near, and finally here’s the happiest of happy debuts.
Appearing: Tuesday, October 21st at Schubas in Chicago.
When they were still signed to Astralwerks, The Little Ones were misfits in the most literal sense. On a roster full of moody British bands and electronic studs (Air, Chemical Brothers, Beth Orton), they were a cruise-ship port — smiley natives betting you’d clap your hands when they asked. With their maiden full-length, their helio power pop is easy to listen to — maybe too easy. On the title track, “Ordinary Song,” and “Rise And Shine,” Morning Tide‘s impossibly sustained glee goes cannibal and lunches on so many sugary hooks it has to vomit. Vocalist Edward Reyes has the fate of these songs resting on his glowing alto, and hits enough of the right blue notes on “All Your Modern Boxes,” “Tangerine Visions,” and “Like A Spoke On A Wheel” to turn the album around. Maybe these tracks would have piggybacked nicely on the Sing Songs EP, like a late-afternoon caffeine rush, before Astralwerks/EMI/Capitol reshuffled. But now it’s time for a new drug.
— Steve Forstneger
