It's funny. Garage indie rock, once a symbol of rebellion and burning adolescence, now feels like a rthrowback to a more carefree time (read: pre-2000). With the recent rise of artists like Baths and oOoOO rmaking music that's almost painfully intimate, the sheer extroversion of bands like Teenage Fanclub or even rthe Strokes practically feels like a relic. So at this point, Yuck, a young four-piece (and sometimes five-rpiece) outfit with members from London, New Jersey, and Hiroshima, sound positively retro. Their debut is rfairly straightforward, often repetitive, and brutally effective, striking an uncanny balance between uplift and rfrustration. Yuck is inviting, immediately accessible, and flat-out rocks.
