Parquet Courts

With the amount of sub-par music in the world, it’s only proper to give a decent record, even if it isn’t incredibly memorable or groundbreaking, a little love.

New York post-punk outfit Parquet Courts have given us one such respectable album with Light Up Gold, a fun and fuzzy set of songs.

Courts was actually started in Texas, a transplant that “N. Dakota” describes with the band’s excellent, evocative lyricism: “I saw, while squinting/ the hidden layer/ in those lost-era/ grain elevators/ feudal beginnings/ amber wave looseness/ post-Nordic grinning/ tired and toothless.”

Light Up Gold’s songs are about simple things like having the munchies or dealing with arrogant jerks. But unpretentious ideas like “My girl is a beer, freshly poured” are often followed by something strange and clever like “My girl’s a borealis-lit fjord.” The delivery feels a bit less intentional, but in a way that’s satisfying.

Improvised solos and guitars that verge on feedback add a rawness that compliments lead singer A. Savage’s occasionally atonal shouts. Guitar licks are fun, rowdy and hook with surprising effectiveness, yet each song is prudent not to run too long—only a few pass the three-minute mark.

Parquet Courts’ Light Up Gold wanders from CBGB venues to Sonic Youth in a way that might catch the ear of someone particularly attuned to that sound. It’s hard to find shortcomings, but Light Up Gold doesn’t surprise or do any one thing incredibly well. Still, it’s adding to the world’s supply of good music, and that’s fine with me.