Philly post-punks The Sixties have got their name right—their debut album, There It Isn’t sounds like our time machine has finally worked, and we’ve jumped back in time to the glory days of rock and roll. With the sounds of a cassette tape,“Remote Control” kicks off the album to a bass-led start. The chant of “We don't even want our freedom / We just want remote control” is an accurate critique of today’s media-obsessed society, so we can only hope you put down your remote control, because this is a song you don’t want to skip. Neither is the next track, “Jean Jacket”. Picking up the pace, you’ll be bouncing off the walls in no time, air guitaring to those spiralling riffs.
With a rather cynical twist, “Illuminati Biscotti” hits, with alternating riffs that are enough to give you motion sickness, but in the best way possible. You can hear echoes of Queens Of The Stone Age running through their music, especially in the following track, “Philadelphia Calm” in its endless solo-esque riffs a constant factor in its melody. This is a band that is bringing in the new age of old school rock, where the guitars take the lead—a refreshing change.
“Cocaine Steering Wheel” starts off with a dial tone—bet you haven’t heard one of those in ages! The vocals are a bit more forceful here, setting us up for “The Context”, which is much more vocal-orientated—but the use of a wah-wah pedal lets you know what this band are really about. And just to hammer that point home, the solo in “The Line We Were Sold” is locked and loaded to blow your mind.
“Misery” has a rather military feel, with staccato riffs you can march along to, and “Forgetting Yesterday” continues in this vein, but at the same time it pulls in sunny melodies that will make you want to march right on out to your car and go on a road trip to nowhere in particular. “What if we’re already there?” is a question asked in “No Route (At All)”, showing that The Sixties don’t care where you’re headed, just that you have an awesome soundtrack to your journey.
Closing the album is “Warning Label”, with the chant, “let’s start a fire now”—maybe not something we should all take literally, but metaphorically. This is a band who will reignite that love of good old fashioned rock and roll, and make you want to start a band just so you can act like your inner rockstar.