Remy Zero: The Golden Hum

The members of Remy Zero are American (Alabaman, no less), but they've created a curiously British-sounding rock record in The Golden Hum. Followers of the group's career shouldn't be shocked, as Remy Zero has never been shy about its love of Brit-rock, from its early days spent at the altar of My Bloody Valentine to its more recent U2-isms. The Golden Hum is a wholly different beast, representing the band's first real success at unashamedly bombastic, anthemic rock. British acts get away with this sound far more often than their American counterparts; maybe the requisite musical cocksureness is a recessive trait over here. Or perhaps Remy Zero is simply reacting to public indifference—manifested in the end of a big label deal after two fine but nearly invisible albums—with more radio-friendly sounds. On The Golden Hum, it seems to have fully embraced modern British rock, sitting firmly in the musical continuum between Coldplay and U2, touring with the likes of Travis and Blur, and even employing English design firm Blue Source to create some of the year's best CD artwork. Like those bands, Remy Zero finds its shining moments by coupling a big rock sound with songwriting subtlety. The album's best song, the guitar- and mandolin-laden "Perfect Memory," is a moody, expansive power ballad that wouldn't sound out of place in a John Hughes movie. That track, along with "Out/In" and especially "Save Me," owe a huge debt to U2, but they're similar in spirit, transcending mere imitations. The album's rockers ("Glorious #1," "Impossibility") provide a nice sense of balance, keeping the album from becoming samey. The Golden Hum sounds like what it is: a group of white-noise-loving indie fans coming to grips with their inner arena-rockers and surprising themselves with how good they sound.