Alt. Americana's pockets these days are bulging with leagues upon leagues of college murmurers, clinging onto the backs of freight trains mapped across this watery globe by the likes of MGMT, Vampire Weekend and Passion Pit, and Pomegranates are a welcome weight to the load. More dollar than dime-a-dozen, the Daytrotter revolution has taken up arms, with the likes of Surfer Blood and Local Natives asserting themselves as the ripest crops in fields cultivated on early Weezer records and shiny, summer guitar chimes. Cincinnati's Pomegranates fill their forlornly urgent tracks with the confused emotions of pre-pubescent Valentine's cards, as Beachcomber bounces between hallucinogenic Atlas Sound atmospherics and a bloated bass line that gorges on the clicks of afrobeat guitars, whilst The Southern Ocean sounds like an even wonkier take on Wakefield's The Research, lined with a delightfully wide-eyed naïvety. If you were to teach kindergarten kids through the medium of musical tones, their educational diet would consist primarily of the crimson seeds of Pomegranates' power-pop and were they to provide an oral as well as aural fruitful nutrition, getting those five-a-day down would never have been quite so scrumptious. Pomegranates by indieana john
