If I was going to try and think of a spooky, backward-looking, nostaligia-infected patch of land - maybe with a half-broken jacuzzi - where I wanted to encourage all the echoey youth of Brooklyn and thereabouts to stay and play, I think I'd call it Youth Lagoon. All warm and wet and safe and hidden from the world, but with a tendency for stagnation and the occasional scary Creature.
I do love this stuff, this slippery Zeitgeist. Even the cover's all vintage photograph and rainbows. Stick in a unicorn and it's a psychedelic hipster paradise. (These are tired, tired words - I apologise.) Headphones are my friends.
The escapist titles are there too: "Posters", "17", "July" and "Daydream". I suppose there is no real urge to grow up and go to war and raise kids and shit out a mortgage these days. I'd look for lyrical insights to guide my thoughts. But as per usual, I can't keep my mind on the words - the trembly falsetto of the vocals makes it even harder. Not that there are a lot of words; it's mostly about the glow.
Anthems and biscuits.
Rating: Rainbow out of Adolescence