Rationally happy and not at all sappy

The Kooks come back strong with the fifteen-track effort Let’s Go Sunshine. A rational representation of positivity, it balances messages of love, uncertainty and thoughtfulness together in a rather cohesive way. Some albums make a lot more sense the second time through, but this one actually opens with the chorus of the final song, an easter egg that, understandably, doesn’t get noticed until the whole album has been heard. None of the tunes are particularly harmonically daring, but they reveal a rather strong set of feelings that one of the band members has about a girl—songs that lack love-specific titles that are built upon an undying crush.

The first actual song, “Kids,” lyrically samples the title of The Offspring’s “The Kids Aren’t Alright” and rests easily atop minimal chordal movements. It has nuggets of the same rebellious nature that many Offspring songs have, noticed in the chorus lyrics “When I don’t have a choice / Is when I find my voice,” yet, despite that tinge of dissatisfaction, this could be right at home in a soundtrack for a movie set in the suburbs, say, Cheaper by the Dozen or Hot Rod. The pair of “Intro” and “Kids” sets the tone of the album quite well.

When “Believe” hits and is followed up by “Fractured and Dazed,” the high-quality recording is very clear. It’s almost better than it needs to be, but hey, who’s to complain about good production? Less-produced is the spine-tingling sweetness at the start of “All the Time”—it’s the kind of acoustic guitar strumming that calms the soul instantly. “Four Leaf Clover” gives off Counting Crows vibes, and it’s not the only song that does, it’s just the most obvious example of it. Also at this point in the album, their use of chant-like hooks has become a trend and an effective one at that.

Three songs stick out as odd, or at least the meaning is difficult to understand. “Chicken Bone” might be a stab at how skinny or cowardly the singer is, but it’s a little hard to tell. “Initials for Gainsbourg” is a reference to the musician Serge Gainsbourg but the title’s link to the message of the song and the album overall are puzzling; it’s mostly memorable for its odd lyrics. Third is “Pamela,” a hooky song that is either about the girl who is also the subject of so many of these other tunes or she’s some distraction that was distracting enough to earn her own song. This one and “Chicken Bone” both ride a weird line of humor and truth that will surely turn heads.

While much of the lyrical content is devoted to this somewhat vague love interest, each song is unique enough to make this whole album a worthwhile listen several times over. Let’s Go Sunshine is a case of “simple and simply good.” Give it a listen if you please.