Growing up’s a bitch, ain’t it? As you ascend into your twenties and thirties and beyond, you take on new sets of responsibilities and your mindset matures, at least you hope. You stop thinking so much about potential sexual partners and begin thinking more about your career or starting a family. The same can be said with music. As a group progresses, we assume its music will, too. And as the musicians mature, it would be safe to say their musical content follows suit.

Well, to hell with assumptions.  The Sheffield-based indie-pop power trio Standard Fare’s sophomore release, Out of Sight, Out of Town, is just as spunky and twee as its debut, and that’s just fine. In fact, it’s what makes this girl/boy three-piece so appealing.

The album comprises 12 straightforward pop tracks, most clocking in at three minutes or less. This combined with the fast-paced nature of the songs creates a fabulous momentum that keeps the listener eager to hear what’s next. As the record trudges along, its DIY nature shines through. These gems have not been polished, and it’s almost as if you’re listening to a compilation of demos. The instrumentation is raw and harsh at points, and singer/bassist Emma Cooper’s vocals are crackled and wailing, without a tinge of production. This realness is intriguing in a world full of overly produced music.

 

Although the trio stuck with its standard drums/guitar/bass arrangement, it did incorporate the help of Brad San Martin (One Happy Island) on trumpet and Emily Gunny (Nat Johnson and The Figureheads) on violin to add another dimension to the band’s unadulterated sound on tracks like “05 11 07.”

As far as subject matter is concerned, it’s all over the place, jumping from the Holocaust on the album’s first single, “Suitcase,” to bitterness (“Kicking Puddles”), frustration (“Deade Future”), divided families (“Half Sister”) and infidelity (“Early That Night”). The way Cooper delivers her lyrics is as if she is reciting material straight from her diary, and when she vocally duels with singer/guitarist Danny How, the pair’s voices complement each other’s to a tee.

The best thing about this album, and this band, is that the music comes from the heart. This is apparent after its first spin. Could Standard Fare benefit from maturing its sound a bit? Absolutely, but there’s something comforting about its current state, delaying the sense of growing up.