Tony Esposito went to the Kurt Cobain School of Unintelligible Lyrics, but he does it in a pop punk sense. There are real guitars here, like shredding guitars.
The band’s strength lies in majestic melodies and carefully thought-out instrumental passages. Here, both are abandoned to cram in boiling rage, from gorilla stomps to guitar hero shreds that leave no lasting impression.
The Format specialize in ’80s acoustic-y light pop-rock, and songs often include sleigh bells, a banjo, a mellotron, and a wurly (what the hell is a wurly?).
They’re worthy of Cave In’s worship on this stellar debut. Bombastic grooves, arena-shaking tunes, all parading to Andrews’ left-of-center pop sensibility.
Keeping it short, ear to the ground, logical, almost compact and punky, within the golden-handcuffed confines of the tin-foil-on-a-filling Pantera screech.