Japandroids
Celebration Rock

The Genius. Saying this, in Naples, broadly and generally means the desire for anything. And the Japandroids, a Canadian duo (tortured guitar/drums), with "Post Nothing" first, and now with "Celebration Rock," are the best example of a band that can't help but make you feel that desire, o' ggenio.

But desire for what, then?

From the very first listen of "Nights of Wine and Roses," one inevitably feels the need to indulge in a natural, spontaneous, off-key and completely out of place sing-along. There is a desire to celebrate one's youth, which becomes, for the entire duration of the album, a value to be reproduced and adored fully and without reservation, because, as it seems "Younger Us" almost tells us, time passes and it's better to accumulate as many memories as possible before the urge to shout is gone. So, for thirty-five minutes, amidst easily hummable street chants and fearsome surges that border, on one side, with noise, and on the other, with punkgaze (what the heck is this punkgaze, anyway?) à-la No Age, one is involved in a noisy party, full of sweat, above-average alcohol levels, and, well, let's be a bit pathetic, emotions and memories that need to be preserved from the passage of time.

And the merit of the Japandroids is precisely this: naturally and sincerely referencing an imaginary that is difficult to be part of without a minimum of shame, and in doing so, avoiding every stereotype; and although the eight tracks all sound similar and lack some inventiveness, they make you feel young and beautiful. And, for once, there's nothing wrong with that.