Sound — 9
This is one band and one album that, like an elegant 17th century-era handlebar moustache, will take a while to grow on you, but the end result is a warm feeling of satisfaction. This is New Found Glory's (NFG) fourth studio album, and it has even become a gold-selling record. It was my first experience of NFG, and initally I was underwhelmed and, I hate to say it, quite repulsed by it. As with pretty much any review of NFG since the dawn of time, I'm going to say that I thought Jordan Pundik's voice sounded grotesque at the outset, but as you gradually become accustomed to it, it dawns on you that it is actually fantabulous, and that no one else could sing these songs better. Speaking of the vocals, they just seem to melt deliciously together with the other instruments. Although there aren't really any complicated solos to speak of other than guitar that simply follows the melody of the vocals, the fantastic bridges/breaks or whatever they're perfrom a nice job building nicely back up to the insanely catchy choruses.
Lyrics — 9
Yes, NFG aren't going to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, but honestly who cares? I know I don't. The various ditties featured on this album predominantly focus on relationships, friends and the like, with a couple of exceptions such as "I'd Kill to Fall Asleep", where Pundik voices his concerns over insomnia, and "No News is Good News", which discusses the thoroughly overused topic of commercialisation and anti-individuality setting up camp in this world. Despite the somewhat generic lyrics as long as they follow the flow of the music, can get girls to like you when they hear you play them, and simply sound snazzalicious, (and they do), then get out the crayolas and colour me tickled pink!
Overall Impression — 10
If I decided to step out for a brisk morning walk with a copy of my precious Catalyst and a low flying, CD-stealing eagle happened to wrestle it from my pathetic Kung Fu grip, you bet your sweet bippy I will be on my bike doing my darndest to chase down that NFG, hijacking terrorist with feathers. After realising that I'm not that good at climbing tress, I will be down at the Pines Music Store like grease-flavoured lightning, buying another copy or two (or seven, just to give them some money). No pussyfooting around on iTunes or anything, CDs will always be the mutts nuts for me. Oh, and I couldn't possibly pick my favourite song(s) on the album. What I will say is that it's the hottest slice of punk rock pie I've tasted for a long time (well, since their previous album hit the shops). Buy it or die.