Well this is basically just indie rock.  There you go, genre and style defined, and pigeonhole allocated.  There’s a touch of Ryan Adamsy Americana in there from time to time and the sound can be just a little old-fashioned at times, like it had been hatched in the late 90s, but basically this is a straight down the line indie rock album.  I have to thank Tart for introducing me to this.  She’s a regular reader, middle-aged carpet muncher and writer of I Correct Myself, I Mean All the Time and sent a link to this through a good few weeks ago.

You know when you listen to an album and instead of either jumping for joy or puffing out your cheeks in disappointment you just think ‘yes, that’s good, that’s one for the collection’?  Well that’s how I reacted to this.  I listened to it through, liked it, and that was that.  I didn’t need to think about it or to mull, or even to hear it through a hundred times, although I have since played it rather a lot.   It just sits neatly in its little Arizona box and, without doing anything too dramatic, is simply a much appreciated addition to the canon of good solid indie records.

Songs like Don’t Have the Body or Balloon crop up here and there which are genuinely a cut above, and it seems that the more downbeat songs are where Arizona really excel.  Some of the rockier numbers can be a little stodgy at times, but their slower songs are uniformly excellent.

For the most part this is simply a good straightforward album of enjoyable tunes, some nice riffs and plenty to hum along to.

Arizona – Don’t Have the Body
Arizona – Colors

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