Four out of Five stars

The first thing you should probably know about GRMLN is its band name is a gross misrepresentation of its music. GRMLN isn’t mischievous like a gremlin, nor is it remotely electronic, as its capitalization and lack of vowels might imply. It is indie surf rock that floats somewhere between Weezer and Wavves, and I’d only be kidding myself to say I don’t love it. 

Empire—the first full-length album by GRMLN, headed by Japanese-born, California-raised Yoodoo Park—is an angsty summer soundtrack I can’t get enough of.  

The album isn’t profound, or even that original, but that’s okay. I don’t want to listen to some screwball from Williamsburg rehash the Beach Boys—I want Yoodoo Park to do it.  I want surf rock from a guy who is as naïve and angsty as Brian Wilson, and Park might just be that guy.  

Park sings “I see your smile in the summer/ And I’m waiting for you baby” in “Summer Days.” The chorus follows with, “Say what you want/It doesn’t mean a thing to me.” It is simplistic, longing and as Park insists, the songs revolve around naivety.  

In an interview with DIY Magazine, Park said “Summer Days” was written in high school and “Implanted from the countless hours of watching ‘The Notebook’ and ‘A Walk To Remember.’” 

In that interview he went through each track of Empire and explained how pretty much every song is about young, naïve love. 

What else would a millenial want to listen to during his or her last summer break? 

While nearly every track deals with the idea of love and naivety, the songs aren’t repetitive. Park has definitely created an album, not a motley crew of singles and fillers.

Empire begins with three-chords, a bass and drums beneath “I’ve given up, when I don’t even know your name/Time’s running out, when I don’t even know your name.” The vocals are whiney and muffled, and they remind me of how surf rock nearly always boils down to upbeat emo music. 

Short and fast three-instrument surf tracks with long reverberating vocals make up 75 percent of the album. They flow well into “Cheer Up,” a gorgeous 60s-sounding ballad that really should have ended the album but was instead the second-to-last. 

“Cheer Up” places scaling bass and guitar lines against soft vocals that make one last push for Park’s nostalgic angst.  He sings, “You’re so naïve to think that everything’s alright to me/You know that everything’s alright to me.” These words either mean nothing or represent the bewilderment of summer love. 

The last track, titled, “Dear Fear” seems like more of a “whoops, this ‘album’ only has eight tracks” moment than anything else. It’s an acoustic track that Park claims to be “One of [his] most sentimental tracks,” and sure, it’s sentimental, but it doesn’t fit on the album, especially as the ninth and final track. Basically, this is an EP sold as an LP, with a bonus acoustic track on the end.

The largest faults of GRMLN’s Empire seem to come from poor marketing more than anything else (thanks, Carpark Records). Beyond a band name and album cover that misrepresent Park, there is no logical explanation for the album title, Empire.

Either way, the album rocks and rolls. It’s as naïve as young love or anything else having to do with teenagers and nothing better represents summer.