The Ditty Bops

Moon Over the Freeway (Warner Bros.)
by Tim Den

The Ditty Bops‘ debut was like a palette cleanser to the forced-fed entrée of modern shit music: Breezy, unpretentious, sexy (in an innocent way), charming, cute, and evocative of a glorious era (The Swingin’ ’20s) without being retro/ironic/rip off. Like the film Sweet and Lowdown, the duo’s songs awaken the American heritage in the listener by employing jazz chords and old timey instrumentation, making you feel all warm and fuzz inside, as if you just stepped into a Cary Grant movie. Moon Over the Freeway is much of the same, although the overall mood is less joyous and naïve, as if The Ditty Bops’ experience with 21st century music business has somehow dulled their formerly bright predisposition. But still, the sounds of Prohibition and fedoras fill the album, as Abby DeWald and Amanda Barrett harmonize and waltz their way through slightly odd tales of love and life. The songs are less immediate and catchy than their debut, but don’t veer off the beaten path enough to be called a departure. It’s still impossible to fight against mandolins, washboards, and plucked upright bass when they come together to form a celebratory march worthy of Al Capone. So if time traveling to a better time (at least musically) is your thing, pick up these fine ladies’ debut as well as Moon Over the Freeway.
(www.warnerbrosrecords.com)