To borrow from a fabulous Fruit Bats lyric, we can merely manage mouthfuls of the musical Niagara Falls that geyser past us these days.  Entire albums spew by un-apprehended.  Only later may we find ourselves (and others) reaching cups way downstream into Lake Ontario and pulling up quenching music that had previously escaped our agape gullets.

Such is the case with Allo Darlin’, the shimmering, London-based, jangle-pop band whose members hail from Australia and England.  A frequent musical co-conspirator (thanks J-Hawkes) kindly tossed Allo Darlin’s new album, Europe, at us and regaled with concert tales of the band (regrets, we’ve had a few more).  We somewhat skeptically listened in (after all, how could WE possibly have missed any good music?).  And now, weeks later, we rank it amongst the most affecting and best albums of the year.  And we’re not alone in this, with the album making many discerning critics’ Best of 2012 So Far lists.

It doesn’t hurt Allo Darlin’s cause that we are hopeless jangle-pop addicts.  Allo Darlin’ have taken a page or two out of the musical playbooks of some of the best purveyors in that genre:  The Church, Heavenly, The Concretes, Belle & Sebastian, The Bangles and The Go-Betweens come to mind (odd that many bloggers cite only Australia’s Go-Betweens and leave it at that—you don’t think they’re just plagiarizing each other do you?).  Though there’s nothing new under the sun, Allo Darlin’ stamp their unique imprimatur on the sound with strong melodies throughout, some added softer and harder musical touches, and especially through the emotive lyrical atmospherics conjured by leader Elizabeth Morris.  Morris, guitarist Paul Rains, drummer Mike Collins and nimble bassist Bill Botting are a tight-knit pop ensemble that have evolved impressively from their first album (which was no slouch in its own right, but featured much more of Morris’ ukelele playing).  In addition to Morris’s uke, guitar and vocals, the lads play and sing with aplomb throughout, whether on the slower numbers or the more uptempo.  While the sound is often summery, the lyrics are frequently wistful and filled with nostalgic melancholy, though leavened with countervailing optimism and encouragement.  You know, like life and living.

The album begins with Neil Armstrong, another song by Morris referencing (loosely) a historical figure (she’s previously done so with Woody Allen, Stephen Hawking, and Henry Rollins, amongst others).  With a proto-jangle musical backdrop, Morris name-checks the astronaut and assesses the heavens while expressing her desire for faith and belief (“Well I am tired of feeling confused, and lest my words be construed, I can’t separate what’s real but I know that I believe in you…And I won’t fly until the day that I die, but we can’t keep out dreams in jars so I’ll keep yours close to mine.”).  Next up is a perfect pop song, Capricornia (the official video for which you can check below).  Despite its upbeat sound and feel, Morris bemoans the loss of friends (“Could you ever understand how you ended up here? Any friend you’ve ever had has disappeared, and the tug of heart string is the line that pulls you home”), but vows to never let them go (“And I will come to you, when you fall down and when the lights go out, and we set the world to rights”).  Another musically upbeat song follows, the title-track Europe, which alludes to the trying economic and political times “on the Continent,” and the tangential effects on the band.  Regardless, Morris vows to soldier on (“But it feels like we’ve made it, and before these memories faded, you will ask again if this is really happening…when i pick you up off the floor, because you’re what i came here for”).  Some People Say slows things down a bit, but Morris nonetheless manages to provide solace (“I’ve got you and a bottle of wine…I have a feeling that this day will be amazing…And when you listen to these songs, if you’re ever lonely, you’re not alone”).

Northern Lights kick-starts matters anew with Paul Rains’ fluid guitar work shining “like a light upon your face.”  Wonderland follows in a similar musical mode, but with a sonorous multi-tracked chorus (“Feels like the world is ending, but I’m with you and I don’t care”).  With a strong sense for the dynamics, the band then steps out of the spotlight to leave mostly Morris and her ukelele on Tallulah, one of  the centerpieces of the album.  Tallulah is the most well-formed song here with its comparatively straightforward, but resonant, nostalgic narrative in which Morris reminisces about Australia and a friend (“As the radio played another terrible song, but lucky for me you found a tape with Tallulah on [TLR—Tallulah Gosh, an earlier Morris band, or the vaunted Go-Betweens’ song?], and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen all my old friends…And I wonder if you would wanna go there with me, when I’m finished over here, if you’re not finished with me”).

The Letter follows at mid-tempo with beautiful melody and pensive penmanship (“And If I told you I was never cool, and all I wanted was just to have you, and when I see you I will put my arms around you, it will be hard to let you go”) and just-so homages (“And I pictured you singing the Silver Jews”).   The band kicks it up again with Still Young, another punchy rocker featuring Rains’ intricately helixing guitar playing, Mike Collins’ driving drums and Bill Botting’s agile bass playing.  Morris sings to her hard-drinking youth, and the band closes with the rousing call-and-response of “We’re still young, we’re still young.”  The album closes with My Sweet Friend, the musically soothing sounds of which belie disquietude (“On the day a famous pop star died…But maybe I’m not right, can I call you up when I cannot get to sleep at night?”).

What is particularly impressive about Europe is while you may be initially thrown off by a couple of cringe-worthy lines (“The way she dances on the stage is so awesome”–can we please have a pact that no songwriter can ever use the word “awesome” in a song?), we still find ourselves repeatedly humming and singing particular lines and stanzas of these songs, as if they were hymns.  In short, Europe is an affecting, near-perfect pop album, and particularly for this summertime season.  Do yourselves a favor, and go pick it up and stream it over at Bandcamp HERE.

Below are the official videos for Capricornia and Tallulah:

And while you’re at it, check out an unplugged version of Europe: