The Mayflies USA “Kickless Kids” –...

Comeback LP takes power-pop vets down short country detour.

Somewhere in the multiverse, there is a maths teacher introducing the concept of Venn diagrams to a bunch of bored North Carolina teenagers. The professor is trying a little too hard to be ‘down with the kids’ by using the time-worn technique of the fully interactive power-pop Venn diagram analysis. In their example, they have three power-pop ‘sets’ combining the crunchy guitars of Matthew Sweet and Superdrag, the rootsier stylings of The Orange Humble Band and Golden Smog and the edgier psych-tinged take of Jellyfish and The Posies.

In the sweetly melodic, harmony-filled intersection between these sets, the tutor locates the new Mayflies LP “Kickless Kids“. A tune packed 37 minutes of urgent, tension-filled three-chord trinkets, dispensing moderated thrills and reflective, slightly downbeat insights into the transitions and emotions of the enveloping mid-life years. In truth, if you’re reading this review as a way to find out what this record sounds like and whether you might enjoy it, then that’s probably all you need to know.

Sure, there’s a mildly absorbing / context-defining backstory, a bunch of people who have various levels of cultural (and financial) capital invested in the record and one or two points of interest that push at the boundaries of the tightly defined intersection that the record finds itself in. Essentially, though, “Kickless Kids” is a supremely competent, professionally produced genre record. It delivers all the power-pop tropes anyone could want in a proficient and engaging way. There are instantly memorable melodies and hooks galore, muscular yet brittle guitar that stops the record from ever becoming too contented and intuitive and satisfying vocal harmonies from the three vocalists – guitarist Matts – McMichaels and Long together with bassist Adam Price.

It’s almost impossible to operate in this artistic space and make a unique sounding record, or for anything so genre-specific to be much more than the sum of its influences, in this case, the intersection between the sets already mentioned. And to give the Mayflies their due, there’s no attempt to be anything other than power-pop here, making “Kickless Kids” a genuinely authentic and honest record. It knows the (t)ropes and delivers exactly what is expected of it in a competent and perfectly functional way. It would be unfair (if not entirely inaccurate) to label the LP predictable or comfortable, as it still manages to fizz with energy and happily stands comparison to the vast majority of those operating in this overcrowded arena.

In fact, “Kickless Kids” actually launches magnificently with the 3 minutes 53 seconds of banging power pop perfection that is ‘Thought the Rain was Gone’. Drums attacked with abandon, squalling riffs amassing at the border waiting to invade and vocals barely managing to keep up. It’s powerful and poppy, quintessential and essential power-pop. It sounds instant and fresh, demanding we sing along before having even got through the song once, which is some going for a ditty about ‘alienation and disconnection’.

Sadly, the rest of the LP never quite lives up to this scene-stealing opener. It is chock-full of really solid, polished and professional songs delivered artfully and with genuine resonance. However, the emphatic yet empathic muscle of the opening salvo remains out of reach, and at times, the record can begin to drag as a sense of weariness, even lethargy, seems to invade proceedings. There are some diverting forays into rootsier, country shaded avenues with the Pernice Brothers cloned ‘Come on Down’ and the out and out country ballad ‘Summer Kept Slippin’ with added pedal steel and a tender lyric concerned with loss and the fragility of life.

Ultimately, though, “Kickless Kids” has a compelling soul, enhanced with hope, positivity and resilience. It won’t change your life or thrill you with exciting new possibilities for musical experience, but it will entertain you and leave you with a gentle (knowing) smile on your face.