Release Me

Release Me wipes away any memories of the band's previous work as well as any boring talk of their famous fathers, and re-introduces the band as first-rate purveyors of thrillingly fun rockin' retro pop.

The Result is a monochrome masterclass where khol-eyed '60s pop and British Invasion riffs are given emotional depth. [Sept. 2010, p. 117]

With fuzzed guitar answered by jabs of organ, the songs go hurtling forward, racing through melodic ideas. The tough girl group is hardly a new concept--ask Blondie or the Donnas--but done right, like this, it's irresistible.

While Inspiral Carpet's Clint Boon will surely applaud Monroe's retro organ flair, much of the magic here stems from Like linchpin and Nabokov fan Z Berg, whose literate lyrics and carefully hatched melodies continue to wring intrigue from that hardy perennial, boy trouble. [Sep 2010, p.96]

The result is infinitely more memorable than "Are You Thinking," though it's no less mannered.

The cover of the Isley Brothers, "Why When The Love Is Gone" after "Don't Make A Sound" seems like sloppily tagged on attempt to be shown that the group's influences are genuine. Otherwise, Release Me is a perfectly produced pop gem with all substance and a lot of style.

In short, "Catch Me If You Can" sums up everything sugary power-pop should be, and all that Release Me is trying to achieve. For the Like, it looks like all the pieces are finally falling into place.

They wield their prodigious knowledge in organ-heavy girl-group confections spiked with catty New Wave toughness.

With its Motown feel, the title track finds singer Elizabeth "Z" Berg crooning about love gone wrong ("I wish you knew I'm not the one for you/You're not the one I need/And I can't stand you") over a harmonized chorus of "ooh's" from her female bandmates, but the vocals don't go down as smoothly as the Supremes. Meanwhile, it's on the standout cut "I Can See It in Your Eyes" where Berg settles into her most comfortable range and the group does its most believable impression of the Animals.

At 13 songs Release Me feels overlong, but in short bursts, it's a feisty, cute and ballsy break-up album.

Ultimately it's so much less than it could have been, given the talent involved.