The eponymous debut album from
the Sails is so thoroughly drizzled with gooey power pop confection that your teeth may ache by the end of it. But everyone loves a good sugar buzz, and this U.K. quintet delivers the glucose-laden goods. Lead singer/songwriter
Michael Gagliano is clearly enamored with all things
Beatles and
Byrds, circa 1965 and 1966, and if the end results are highly derivative (and they are), he at least has the good sense to imitate some of the most glorious pop music ever recorded. "Chocolate" and "Peter Shilton" feature letter-perfect "Ticket to Ride" jangly guitar lines and harmony-drenched singalong choruses, while "Can You Hear Me" recaptures the magic of "Rain," backwards tape loops and all. Even the band's lightweight lyrics encapsulate the era in microcosm, and hark back to a time when countless British Invasion groups could ride their chiming guitars and "stay" and "away" rhymes right to the top of the charts. It's a classic sound, but one that could easily grow stale. Fortunately,
Gagliano's strong melodic gifts transform one of the hoariest of all rock & roll templates into something fresh and memorable. "Make My Day" and "Firebell Alley" update the template slightly, honing in on the late
Beatles psychedelia of
Magical Mystery Tour. Although songs such as "See Myself" and "Wonderland" venture dangerously close to
Herman's Hermits territory, and all its attendant sickening sweetness, for the most part
Gagliano manages to stay just this side of the bubblegum machine.
The Fab Four have been inspiring new music almost from their inception, and every decade sees the rise of new acolytes, from
the Raspberries and
Badfinger through
the Smithereens and
Crowded House through
Oasis and
Franz Ferdinand. The Sails follow in that grand tradition of doing little new, and doing it gloriously. They've produced a delectable homage to
the Beatles, and have emerged with yet another fine variation on a seemingly inexhaustible sound.