The Thrills' debut album, So Much For The City, offered the novelty of an Irish rock band singing lovingly and knowingly about the American West Coast, but the glowing notices it garnered were mostly for the record's sudden rushes of pop pleasure. Songs like "One Horse Town" and "Santa Cruz (You're Not That Far)" rode percussive piano, warm guitar jangle, tingling bells, and boyishly twangy harmonies to an artificially sunny spot, perfect for a quick visit but not a long bask. The band's follow-up, Let's Bottle Bohemia, wastes little time in hitching its wagon to the same shooting star. The album's second track, "Whatever Happened To Corey Haim?," pumps along winningly, letting disco strings and Conor Deasy's asymmetrical melody underline the lightly regretful lyrics. It's the kind of song that freezes casual listeners, then sends them scrambling for the CD case to note the title.
The problem with The Thrills is that its music appeals more to those casual listeners than to those who pay close attention. Let's Bottle Bohemia sounds more reserved than its predecessor, as evidenced by "Tell Me Something I Don't Know," which sounds like an exercise in building tension with minimal release. But the new record is still packed with the same sonic dazzle as So Much For The City, with banjos, background-vocal "ooh"s, and instantly memorable lines goosing every track. Ultimately, the record suffers from the Marah Effect: It's trying so hard to impress that it comes off as pushy.
Both Marah and The Thrills have reasons for overkill. The former wants to evoke the threat and promise of a racially mixed inner city, while the latter wants to recapture the forlorn prettiness of early-'70s California. The Thrills' calling seems comparatively negligible. Let's Bottle Bohemia does what it's supposed to do, serving up a handful of songs that swing in, entertain, and swing back out. At its best, on the punchy "You Can't Fool Old Friends With Limousines," "Found My Rosebud," and "The Irish Keep Gate-Crashing," the record generates a strong emotional surge. But even that surge feels borrowed and tweaked. This band needs to go lo-fi, and fast.