The Soft Pack

Eighties punk enthusiasts with a taste for hip modern bands like Japandroids, Tapes 'n Tapes and (the late) Jay Reatard, or hell, anyone who can appreciate spirited rock music delivered with verve, should find The Soft Pack to be a delightful and exciting listen.

Granted, The Soft Pack has knife-edged pop riffs and crooned vocals galore. But a closer probe reveals a knack for punky songcraft and caffeinated oomph that could have easily been inherited from fellow San Diego group Hot Snakes.

It’s done brilliantly, with no frills, no ego, no sense of homage (just some damn fine influences), no fat, no bullshit, nothing bar hooks, energy and a certain air of ineffable sadness for good measure. Sometimes you need to believe a scene or movement will save your life. Other times, there’s nothing wrong being casually blown away by a record like The Soft Pack.

The Soft Pack never sound cliche, but excitingly new, even if their influences can be clearly identified.

Mr. Lamkin’s foul moods are a source of vitality on this gritty and amiable album, his songwriting accomplishing loads in compressed, tightly shelved spaces.

The Soft Pack allows this band an almost completely clean break with their past while showing they’re dynamic no matter what they’re called.

Its first side pelts past in 12 minutes, melding the brittle charms of Modern Lovers and Wire with a muscular garage rock dynamism: the joyous hurtle of Down On Loving makes like a more savage Strokes, while the caustic Answer To Yourself draws the fuzzy '60s classicism of the The Black Lips into tighter focus, a Nuggets-worthy anthem. [Feb 2010, p. 95]

Short, but extremely sharp. [Feb 2010, p.104]

Like meeting an old friend after years apart, The Soft Pack is surprisingly, comfortably familiar.

Though Lamkin's monotone voice is not the most expressive instrument--it barely wavers whether the occasion calls for a Monks-style organ vamp ("Move Along") or a prom-night embrace ("Mexico")--each album side gradually ratchets up the tension and releases it through a raucous rave-up ("Pull Out" on side A, "Parasites" on side B) that successfully bridges the Soft Pack's Nuggets-schooled ethos with the modern-day discord of San Diegan patron saints Hot Snakes.

Instead of pushing any boundaries The Soft Pack have made a vigorous, enjoyable and high-energy record with a bundle of opportunities for jerky dancefloor foot stomping.

Original it isn’t, but it trades innovation for let-loose fun, and wears its influences proudly.

They may be strutting right down the middle of the road, but they look pretty damn cool doing it. The Soft Pack make being A-OK into something to be proud of.

That it's derivative isn't that much of a stick to beat them with, though--they've produced 30 minutes of glossy, singalong, preppy pop-punk.

The Soft Pack are revivalists who keep it interesting by messing around in the margins.

Snotty wit can be heard on the droll "Down On Loving" or the splenetic "Parasites," probably the best examples of the Ramones-via-Replacements sound that defines the album. [Apr 2010, p.90]

It's not a bad album, it's not a good album, it's merely an alright album and that's the real problem.

Nothing about The Soft Pack makes you wanna know who these guys are or what they have to say about the world outside their practice space.

Taken as a whole, The Soft Pack isn’t exceptionally challenging or memorable, though it does leave space to appreciate a few of its singles.