Four Stars

[A] slim, but enjoyable album. [Jan 2011, p.88]

**** brings the Greenhornes back to the spotlight, sounding as good as they ever have, and in many respects, better. They're advised not to wait eight years before making another album, but if that's what it takes, the wait seems to be worth it.

Stuck in a time warp they may be, but singer-guitarist Craig Fox, drummer Patrick Keeler and bassist Jack Lawrence (the latter pair better known as the rhythm section in Jack White's Raconteurs – Lawrence also plays with White in The Dead Weather), revel in their chosen genre with such mellifluous joie de vivre that it's hard to deny them their retrospective orientation.

It is an exceedingly agreeable collection of ultra-catchy garage-pop complete with slash-and-burn guitars, wheedling psychedelic organs, gauzy ballads, dollops of Motown stomp, and loads of love laments both despairing and fidgety.

In an age where musicians are constantly looking toward a more futuristic sound to portray their craft, The Greenhornes are living proof that looking back is sometimes the best bet.

A mind-tweaking knees-up in the second-chance saloon for Fox.

Strangely enchanting.

But whereas White relives rock history in fever dreams, Greenhornes singer-guitarist Craig Fox envisions the past through heavy eyelids. His rollicking punk tunes are coolly detached, and his psychedelic mudslides often laze in drooged-out repose.

Apparently, [Craig Fox's] been stockpiling solid songs: From the slinky "Go Tell Henry" to the stinging snarl of "Underestimator," everything here is taut and lively. The lone drawback: It all sounds terribly familiar.

Their derivativeness is fine when the songs are catchy....But when the pace slackens, it's hard to silence the suspicion that this is effectively a pub band that got lucky.