Alvvays
Antisocialites

This is an album that has the taste of a seaside journey on a white-tinted day; it has the taste of a love buried in the past, of festive nights that will never return. It is an album for those who admire the sunrise by the ocean or the sunset dreaming by the window, for those who yearn thinking of the distant beloved, for those who seek a hint of bitterness in sweetness.

The Alvvays could only be Canadian, and they are one of the best bands of recent years. Their second work, Antisocialites, offers a dreamy, nostalgic, and melancholic pop, among jangle guitars and 90s reverbs, between up-tempo and oases of placidity, between choruses that make you touch the sky with a finger and an Already Gone where you float on the painful river of mourning. It features exquisite songwriting, finely chiseled, genius in its own way, never falling into the banal, never boring, on which Molly Rankin's warm voice sings of broken hearts and bittersweet regrets, of angry failures and of those who just can't wear the socialite's clothes.

One of the best albums of 2017; I'm done. Blessed are the naïve, tough hearts, blessed are the hearts that fall and rise again...

Until next time.