Life has ways of letting you temporarily forget that it’s one big shit show, ultimately balancing things out to a bearable normality. The sophomore album from New Zealand outfit Salad Boys cushions the blow of front man Joe Sampson’s less-than-cheery observations within fuzzed-out, lo-fi garage guitars, the sounds of jangling indie-pop circa 1987 and Sampson’s own calm-cool-collected vocals. The lo-fi production suits the mood, recalling the melancholy charm of indie acts like The Chills and The Bats.
“Blown Up” kicks things off with Krautrock rhythm and an aggressive flurry of guitars, as Sampson laments the pressure to constantly “concentrate and utilize our time.” “I’m useless to to myself and doomed to follow/Someone else,” he sings on “Psych Slasher,” the punk energy and triumphant vocals turning all that angst into a good time. “Scenic Route To Nowhere” takes things in a Parquet Courts direction, the angular guitar lines emphasizing Sampson’s mention of “anxiety,” “choking” and “stumbling.”
The Fat Angel Sings 