Sleeping in the Aviary, Oh, This Old Thing?

You can’t compare Sleeping in the Aviary to anyone, really. You could try, but by the time you explain yourself, a new song has started, and SitA sounds like something else. Oh, This Old Thing? is primarily a punk rock album, given to us in short bursts of uneven tempos and spastic vocals. The band changes the format here and there, however, with the occasional slurred ballad.

The album stands on the fringe of brilliance at some points. At other points, it comes across as typical post-hardcore meddling. Part of Sleeping in the Aviary’s brilliance lies in the shortness of said songs. If you don’t like a song, simply wait a minute or two, and it’s finished. The two longest songs last a staggering three minutes. The album races by at about half an hour, give or take a song. And there are thirteen tracks, so you do the algebra.

“Love Song” and “Sign My Cast” are nearly identical in their executions. Both are sing-along drunk songs with drawn-out vocals and slower tempos. “Pop Song” says, “On the floor in Tennessee / You married me / I can’t hate you but I can hate myself / How did I change you and your mind? / You were bored in New Orleans / You married me / If I saw you ‘d walk you home / How did I change you and your mind?” and that’s it, that’s the song. The lyrics to “Maureen” are as follows: “Maureen doesn’t like me anymore,” repeated until the 33-second song is finished. “Another Girl” and “Gloworm” are the best songs on Oh, This Old Thing? by far. Then there’s the Nivrana-esque “Getting Thin,” the best-written song with the most lyrics of all the songs.

Some may find Elliott Kozel’s vocals a bit grating and I don’t blame them. They shine in “Only Son” and “Lanugo,” however. It seems like he’s taking what bands like the Hives and Jet are trying to do, only he does it much better. Elliott and the band know how to draw from their influences without mimicking them. Sometimes they sound like Nirvana, sometimes like the Buzzcocks, sometimes like something else. And that something else is pretty interesting and sublime. (No, not the band Sublime, the adjective sublime.)

Sometimes it’s bitter, sometimes it’s smarmy, but at the end of the album, who really cares? Might as well listen to it again; you’ll have the time, I’m sure.