Flee the Scene

If you're a teenager rocking out to Mest or A New Found Glory's back catalog in between nights out supporting your favorite band on the local scene, a Southcott T-shirt is the next purchase for you when the guys hit your area VFW hall. Sonically a lot closer to melodic emo-rock than the pop-punk of many of the bands thanked in the liner notes, Flee the Scene is a rather catchy album of self-described "happy music" that combines driving guitars, up-and-down rhythms, and singalong choruses. Lyrics, delivered as though singer Chris Pennings had a permanent cold throughout the recording process, cover requisite topics of friendship, love, and the bitter end of relationships gone sour. Songs like the acoustic "Friendly Fire" highlight this overall tone with lines like "I don't need a dictionary for the names you call me/You're not as clever as you think you are," but really the band spends most of its breath dealing with being someone's "greatest mistake" — over and over again. The album falls easily into the ranks of releases from bands like Junction 18 (see: "The October Tradition") or early Rufio. Most of the songs are midtempo numbers with sporadic squalls of energy, and highlights appear in the punchy "Where the Tabloids Won't Find Us" and the surging chorus of "Post March Third." Southcott brings the rock as many bands like those aforementioned, but in a much more affable way than most like them. Flee the Scene isn't breaking down any walls, but it's a competent, unpretentious debut sure to resonate in high-school corridors and after-school hangouts alike. Just give in to the music and singalong.