Cape Fear

OK, so Germans sound a lot like Weezer. But say what you will, there's something really likable — comforting, even — about a band that harks back to the kind of soaring, half-serious, adolescent rock that would have made Rivers Cuomo proud. It's the kind of sound that makes you feel at home. This is the kind of rock you'd expect to hear from the band next door — you know, the first band you fell in love with long, long ago, before Weezer broke your heart. What's important, though, is that Germans have really done this style of rock justice. Cape Fear is bouncy, wry, and most importantly avoids pretension even as it strives to move beyond the mores of punk-pop. "Nature's Mouth" takes a dip into angular prog rock guitar techniques reminiscent of Yes (maybe Rush would be more accurate — Germans are Canadian, after all), but for all its dissonance this song is pure, delectable pop. Germans seem to draw from their peers as well — there's a good deal of maxed-out, sunshiny synth work on Cape Fear ("Pogos Abenteur," "M. Bison"), bringing to mind fellow Canadians the Golden Dogs. But the synths never get out of hand, the singsongy, somewhat cryptic lyrics never grow wearisome, the liberal swaths of distortion never lose their fizz (except maybe for the dentist's drill guitar whine on the last track), and Germans' stubborn insistence on playing college rock in a world gone post-punk revival never — not even once — strikes one as foolish. Even if it borrows heavily from the bespectacled indie rockers of yesteryear, Cape Fear is a solid debut, and what's more, it's fun. And at the end of the day, that's all that really matters.