Antisocialites

Antisocialites manages the rare feat of a band topping their brilliant debut with a sophomore effort that's even more brilliant. Alvvays make it looks easy, and by the time the album is done spinning, it's hard not to start thinking about how great their next record could be.

Alvvays' music might not be particularly timely, but great songwriting never goes out of style.

For all its darker and uneasy lyrical content, this is still a record that begs to be blasted on road trips and at rooftop parties.

Too little is far better than too much as dozens of overstuffed double albums have taught fans of each decade. Every song here is a hit and Antisocialites is brilliant.

Rather than clashing, those two halves--one romantic and aspirational, one blunt and realistic--sharpen each other and create an album that delivers, and then some, on the promise of the band’s self-titled debut.

An exuberant, ebullient revelation, awash in the cascading guitar work of Alec O'Hanley and Rankin's sunshiney, slapback-treated vocals, for a full power-pop effect that falls somewhere between vintage Tourists and recent Camera Obscura. [No. 146, p.53]

Antisocialites feels like rebellion but it does end up conforming to the heart, which will become more weathered as Rankin moves along.

This is an album that confirms Alvvays’ massive potential and makes the perfect soundtrack for those nights indoors as the summer begins to fade.

Antisocialites doubles down on Alvvays’s strengths while also helping the band carve out a stronger identity within their well-established sound. By highlighting the band itself, Alvvays one-up their exciting debut.

Antisocialites is a much more rugged and varied listen. This is Alvvays pushing the jangle pop envelope, and the perfect album for when sunny summer turns to antisocial autumn.

It’s soppy in the right amount, but it captures the humour and truth in trying to make it through that quarter-life crisis. While it might never really reach the dizzying heights of Alvvays, it still shows the band head and shoulders above the rest.

It’s interesting to hear how Alvvays nod to their vaunted indie forebears while also stretching against the limitations of being too closely associated with the past.

Molly Rankin’s vocals throughout the record compliment the soundscapes perfectly, fanning disappointment with hope whilst exercising a great deal of control--and an admirable lack of bias--over her ponderings.

Antisocialites may not be a manifest step forward for Alvvays. Quieter than its predecessor on many of the songs, the album sacrifices immediacy for Rankin’s occasionally mawkish but otherwise astute poetics. But the tradeoff is worth it.

Even the weakest moments here have redeeming qualities, and Antisocialites as a whole remains a satisfying sophomore effort.

Alvvays gave us the greatest indie-rock wedding proposal ever with their 2014 classic "Archie, Marry Me," and Antisocialites is similarly full of fuzzy-guitar beauty and shoegazing romanticism.

An album that’s fundamentally modest, even as it stretches to be both looser and more technically ambitious.

Some songs do pack a bigger punch than others, but at a brisk 33 minutes, the album never once outstays its welcome and even throws in a few surprises along the way.

On her band's follow-up to its 2014 self-titled debut, Rankin returns to that comfort zone with largely engaging results. [Oct 2017, p.24]

Fans of the debut will still find plenty to like here, even as the group's sound has lifted further from the ground toward more ethereal planes familiar to Beach House or even Chromatics. [Jul - Sep 2017, p.54]

At its best, Antisocialites is a raw effort from a band who swears they've been around longer than they have, composing a handful of very good songs, with a majority of flukey, bored-out-of-my-fucking-mind songs that seem to drag one after the other. Alvvays' main flaw remains their lack of authenticity, a tragedy for a band with this much potential.

Molly Rankin’s pipes are pure 60s pop on Not My Baby, and her songwriting wit sparkles throughout this nuanced break-up album.

Just occasionally the jangles get repetitive; sometimes, good things do go on too long. [Oct 2017, p.96]

It's not a wildly eclectic trip, but for dependable hooks and relatable emotion, Alvvays are spot on. [Oct 2017, p.100]