Sometimes I wish I were younger. The time of youth is fleeting, and I don't think the cognizance and lucidity I have as an adult was ever as present in my early years. Luckily, we are blessed with the gift of music and its ability to mentally pull back our focus within our memories, subjecting ourselves to exhumed thoughts and feelings - good or bad. I can safely say my initial musical tastes as a teenager were more aggressive and, in hindsight, at times, makes me cringe. And that's my confession. I wish I subjected myself to the positive and uplifting tunes. Maybe it wasn't as ubiquitous as it is today and maybe it could have unshielded me and my introversion. But then I think... fuck it. If I'm gonna be a moody bitch, I'm gonna be moody bitch, sir.
If my years of youth were transposed a decade or so, and I didn't want to be a moody bitch, I'm sure my playlist would include Spinn and their latest album, Outside Of The Blue. And look, I'm going to be honest here, I wasn't sold on the album on the first go-around. My initial impression was "I've heard this before" and that it sounds like it would get lost in the upbeat-indie-small club-dancey-safe genre we hear plenty of, through popular TV shows and ads. I realized that my adult-ish mind, assaulted with a career, family, a mortgage, brief diets and utility payments, was not the type of mind meant to hear this album. Music is meant for everyone and anyone who wants to hear it. Yet, in this case, this wasn't meant for me because I'm simply not young enough.
With this younger generation, caught under the heavy foot of impending crises, there sits a vast awareness that shit is fucked, but succumbing to tribalism, nihilism, and doomed thinking won't help. It's okay to be positive and catchy. Dreamy, pop-rock has a place here and is culturally appropriate for the youth. The whatever-ennial generation this is, does give hope. So fucking dance, you moody old bitch!
The album opens with 'Hello’, a song that screams "yes, this has to be the opening track" into the ‘80s inspired ‘Daydreaming’. Spinn comes through the speakers invoking that youthful energy and capturing snapshot feels of young love and reminiscent of summer crushes - a perfect lead into ‘I Believe In Love’ and further down the tracklist ‘Sweet Like Honey’. The latter of which, along with the title track and ‘The Things She Said To Me’, harken the jangle of Johnny Marr's Smiths-era guitars. Big props to Johnny Quinn, lead singer and songwriter, for spearheading a very British record, as there's an undeniable charm running through the LP. A uniquely British charm, attractive to that current-ennial generation, ripe for the zeitgeist, indicative of youthful optimism during the overarching stupidity for which we currently operate under.
The kids are alright. And by the end of 37 and a half minutes of listening to Spinn, I kinda wished I was one.
8 / 10