by Zach Zollo (@zach_zollo)
You would think that a genre with a name as ridiculous as “power pop” would have an inclusive, all-for-one-and-one-for-all attitude. But because irony will be shoved down our gullets until the end of days, power pop fans tend to be rather limited in their range of taste and, perhaps more significantly, what they deem to be an acceptable influence on the style. Because of this notoriety, and despite self-identifying as such an act, Baltimore’s Leisure Sport might have some trouble breaking through into the dreaded old-head Facebook groups of this world.
For those of you who love fusions of power pop, 90s indie rock and mid-2010s emo, the band’s debut EP Title Card is essential listening. In regards to power pop, all the hallmarks of the genre are here: Chilton chords, irresistible tones, impassioned vocals, and one hell of a knack for melody. By fusing these characteristics with autumnal country twang, rhythmic interlocking, and a shade of emotional resonance between nostalgia and introspection, the group hits on a sound that falls in line with the likes of Chicago’s Ratboys, Philly’s Hurry, and London’s Post Louis.
Beginning with the bustle of sepia-toned chords, “Tennessee” opens the EP like leaves gusting away in the wind. Dana DiGennaro captivates with her voice as powerfully as with her lyrics, as she asks “Who are you? Tell me what you stand for underneath the alcohol and lies.” The song beckons itself into a group-sung anthemic chorus, a refrain that reappears between tasteful synth touches and frolicking solos indebted to graduates of the School of Mascis. Second track “Zero Sum” brings out the vocals of guitarist Kyle Balkin, whose contrast to DiGennaro displays their chemistry, similar to the dual vocalists of Boston act Future Teens.
“Stones,” perhaps the strongest track here, has a guitar that flutters beautifully - this time, leaves are falling from a tree branch, gently touching the sidewalk. “Do you ever feel like the headaches come after daylight?” opens the song from a place of admission and curiosity, carrying a dejected sense of spirit in the process. DiGennaro’s performance breathes new life into the chorus, carrying the mood to bellowing heights a la Beach Bunny or Adult Mom. There’s a cultivated pattern of songwriting adhered to throughout this release, but not in the way where a bunch of bands are just jammed into each measure. Instead, it feels refreshing, due largely to DiGennaro’s delivery and the interplay of their guitars.
As their first public showcase, Title Card presents itself as both knowledgeable enough to be assured, and ready and willing to learn and improve. It does exactly what a debut release should do to make it exciting and worthy of note: take its influences, wears them proudly, shows what they can do, and what more they will do. It’s almost like every track here pops with a certain level of power, or, you know, something like that….