The Leftovers
quick google on the name throws up many bands called The Leftovers but this is the three piece from Portland, Maine that we're dealing with here. Imagine The Smithereens wearing jetpacks and harbouring some Tommy James and The Shondells intent. 13 songs clocking in at just below 29 minutes, looking at them on the cover, you'd never think that three youngsters could kick up such a full–blooded racket. They've been abetted in their mission by the aforementioned Mr Weasel and his sequencing has been carried out with precision rock'n'roll action in mind. This is what I expected The Fratellis to sound like according to their press. Superior pop hammered out with a gusto that's rare in these processed pre–packed, pigeon–holed times. I'm sure that yours truly is well outside their demographic but they're bloody stuck with me. The sound is as clean as a whistle and that drum propulsion really carries the epic proportions of the "teenage excitement, romance and mystery". The Leftovers are anything but.
Borderlines

Borderlines