These Flowers Of Ours channels an array of 60s subgenres, from folk and psych to jangle-pop and British Invasion. Layered under these vintage sounds, The Asteroid No. 4 combines elements of each sub-genre in a modern blender, portioning all the right amounts to create a concoction they can easily call their own. The result is a cohesive album, both fun and dreamy.

Thanks to clever mixing and post-production, changes between sub-genres are subtle, despite great potential for the opposite. Most songs feature a hefty reverb in the harmony vocals, and a similar space-y element can also be found selectively in various guitar riffs throughout the album. These commonalities dampen the transitions and keep These Flowers feeling consistent and well put-together.

Melodic and fun, songs like “Let It Go”, “Flowers Of Ours”, and “She Touched The Sky” tint These Flowers with a lighthearted feel that’s perfect accompaniment for sipping margaritas on a hot summer day by the pool with a group of friends. But it’s not all fun and games—the annoying neighbor shows up in “Hold On”, but he leaves quickly and the party resumes in “I Look Around”.

The keyboard melodies throughout the album, added to several harmony vocals, give The Asteroid No. 4 some similarities to groups like The Zombies, though the music here is a bit heftier and filled with noisier and more psychedelic guitars. Overall, These Flowers Of Ours sums up to be one of the better pop releases so far this year. It’s one any pop fan definitely should check out.

The title of the new release by Philadelphia-based Asteroid No. 4 should be the first inclination that, if nothing else, you’re in for an unusual ride. For the most part, the ride is one part psychedelia, one-part folk-rock, and one-part acid trip down a river of reverb. There are a few detours, but they’re not recommended. Instead, it’s best to just turn on, tune in, and drop out for the fifty four minutes it takes to make it through These Flowers of Ours. And by the time the bong-haze clears and the album reaches its final note, you should be feeling pretty good. Maybe even ready for a snack before diving back in once more.

There’s so much to dig about Flowers that it’s impossible to process it all in just two or three listens. (I’ve been spinning it every day for about a week now and I keep coming back to it just to hear how different parts of the album sound at different times of the day and night.) Flowers is a good trip: a mental and aural one, mind you, but a trip nonetheless. The trip starts with the acoustic number “My Love,” and kicks in when Scott Vitt’s tenor (a mash between Neil Young and Roger McGuinn, only more soothing) trickles down from whatever cloud he’s on: “South of London where the roses seem to grow through the cobblestones/I met my lover at the end of the winding country road.” By the time this line is finished, the acoustic guitars are double and triple stacked to the point where it sounds like an army of brightly lit strings are beckoning you down the same road the narrator followed.

So what else lies down that eerie, yet inviting road? What witchcraft and devilry is there that awaits us? “Let It Go” is a sweet and catchy pop song with chiming electric twelve-string guitar that would fit well on any Teenage Fanclub. “She’s All I Need” sounds like The Guess Who channeling “Boys Don’t Cry”-era The Cure, complete with stupidly-sweet childlike lyrics such as, “there’s this girl/ there’s this girl/ that I’m getting to know” and “She Touched the Sky” is self-explanatory and all you would expect it to be given it’s name.

Regrettably, the journey hits a few minor bumps that are enough to cause a skinned knee or two. The band may be in desperate need of an editor since nearly all the songs that reach the five minute mark are the ones that lose focus after the first chorus. They’re probably great if you’re under the influence, but not so great otherwise. After track seven, the sing-a-along worthy Haight-Ashbury inflected title track, the album degrades into a mixed bag of tricks including far-Eastern chants and an oddly-placed spoken word interlude about conducting an exorcism. Creepy and intriguing, yes; but a bit heavy-handed and unnecessary.

The gentlemen in Asteroid No. 4 need not try so hard to convince us of their psychedelic nature. From the excess reverb all the way down to the paisley typeface on their album cover, the context clues point us in that exact direction. Maybe they felt as though we needed a guide for the first trip or two. Who knows. Maybe next time they could trust us to take their fine journey of an album on our own and enjoy the splendor of their tunes for ourselves.

Fuzzed guitars, harmonies and dreamy pop flashbacks

This is the Asteroid No.4’s fifth full length album and as such it builds on and cements a musical ethos that takes its influences from bands such as Pink Floyd (’69), The Rain Parade, Love, Hawkwind ( a dash only), The Screaming Trees, Spiritualised, The Byrds and even some Beach Boys.

These boys (and girl) love their sixties psychedelia, there are big tunes and bigger choruses all submerged in layered guitars and lashings of reverb. Songs such as ‘Hold On’ are so familiar that the game becomes spot the source ( in this case Sympathy for the Devil).

Repeated listens reward and disappoint in equal measure as harmonies become clearer and tunes more evocative but they also reveal a default setting in the songwriting which draws the songs back to a familiar pattern which eventually leads to sense of repetition rather than cohesion. However this may be nitpicking, there is much to enjoy in this reverb sodden wonderland.

The stately majesty of ‘War’, the title track’s beautiful harmonies and sunny swooning rhyme with its perfect sense of time and place ( 1968 Stonehenge!), ‘She Touched the Sky’ with its fractured noodling and floating vocals.
The next Paisley revolution starts here!