Nice, as always, is the word. And listeners with a quirky-college-rock allergy, as always, may wish to look away now.
Five years on from the suburban rap whimsy (and UK chart high-water mark) of "One Week", Toronto's Ladies return flying the nice-young-man, folky college-rock-with-quirks banner. Charming lads all; politically lefty-laudable; fond of japes and an accordion or two; twinkling pop tunes firmly in place; bouncing good fun in concert. But there's nothing here to suggest that "Everything To Everyone" - their first since 2000’s "Maroon" - is more than business as usual, and, in the event, somewhat less so.
The fact that they're firmly beyond college age is the least of their impediments: like those famously superannuated "Friends", wholesome tenors Steven Page and Ed Robertson and their cohorts can still pull off the self-deprecating geeky charm. But this may be the point at which even those well-disposed to the nice and the quirky start to note diminishing returns.
Partly, it's the production. Corporate safe-pair-of-hands Ron Aniello, the knob-twiddler behind grim AOR-vendors Jars Of Clay and Lifehouse, consistently opts for bland, sheen-some, unhip sonic padding. Which, frankly, does a nimble, acoustic-leaning band no favours, as evidenced by the ponderous, radio-smoothed "Testing 1-2-3" and over-polished "Have You Seen My Love?", which could be a slightly cleverer John Mayer, and the forced-sounding upbeat chug of "Take It Outside".
Partly, of course, it's that first UK single "Another Postcard" runs right off the college-whimsy scale with its dunningly relentless rhymes, perky white-guy toasting and more references to chimpanzees than necessary, ever, for any reason. And partly, it's the disappointment that a band with no shortage of brainy songwriting skills should opt for such safe, over-familiar, don't-frighten-the-sponsors satirical targets, if that's not too strong a term: celebrity, in "Celebrity", shopping, in an otherwise pleasingly XTC-esque "Shopping", and general, like, fakeness, in "Aluminum". They may share a city and political leanings with No Logo’s Naomi Klein, but you'd be hard-pressed to spot it here.
Which isn't to say that this album is without its pleasures: the rootsy banjos and sweet harmonies of "For You", the new wave frolic of "Maybe Katie"; the heart-on-sleeve sympathies of a downbeat, elegiac "War On Drugs". And there's probably a whole raft of ex-college boys' toddlers who will demand repeat plays of "Another Postcard", chimpanzees and all, from here straight through to bedtime.
