There is something so refreshing, so fucking bold, about the title The Sound of Young Louisville. It’s not the pull of the word “young” or even the arrogance of assuming a uniform sound to such youth. What I find so compelling, and what Legs Akimbo dive into headlong, is how daring it is to find joy in playing in your own sandbox. This isn’t the sound of young America or any other broader setting, but a specific nod to a particular geographical area, that from a marketing perspective should goddamn well only appeal to the towns million or so population, specifically the young folks, in particular the ones that are into jangly indie rock by way of Sonic Youth or Yo La Tengo. Interestingly enough, I identify our city as comparable to either, although there is a certain melancholy, a dark malaise that runs through both, despite an obvious pop structure. This is more often than not pleasant music, even when it jabs, there is not a fist, but always an open hand to hold guiding you through the rough patches.
As such, this has all the candor of youth, fun and punchy, pithy in spite of itself. This is that eagerness that everyone has felt at one point or another to let it all hang out, finally free to pursue your own interests, the world your oyster, if you can afford it. Listen below and see what Old Grandad here is rambling about, lost in his nostalgic youth, flipping off yuppies at fancy restaurants and riling up the squares like a good punk rocker ought to.