Alright, let’s dive into These Are The New Old Times by The Yoko Casionos. Released in 2007, this Canadian gem from Universal Music (Canada) is a mix of Pop/Rock and straight-up Rock vibes with some Alternative/Indie Rock thrown in for good measure. It's the kind of album that sneaks up on you—like, you think it’s just another indie record, but then BAM, it sticks in your head like gum on a shoe.
First off, I gotta shout out “Loose Cannon.” This track? Absolute banger. It’s got this raw energy that grabs you by the collar and doesn’t let go. The guitar riff is punchy, and the vocals have this almost conversational tone, like the singer’s telling you a story over beers at a dingy bar. You know those songs that make you want to drive fast with the windows down? Yeah, this is one of them. Every time it comes on, I find myself air-drumming or mumbling along to lyrics I don’t even fully remember. That’s the magic of it—it’s catchy without trying too hard.
Then there’s “Cigregrettes” (love the play on words, btw). This one hits different. It’s slower, moodier, and feels like staring out a rain-speckled window while thinking about stuff you probably shouldn’t. The melody has this haunting vibe, and the lyrics are kinda poetic in an unpolished way. It’s not overly flashy, but it lingers with you long after the song ends. Like, I’ve caught myself humming it days later, which is wild because I usually forget songs five minutes after hearing them.
The rest of the album keeps things interesting too. Tracks like “The Stars On 11” and “No Regrets” bring back that upbeat, indie-rock charm, while deeper cuts like “My Dreams Sci-Fi” show off the band’s knack for crafting these little sonic worlds you can get lost in. Honestly, it’s impressive how they balance fun, high-energy tunes with moments that feel more introspective and chill.
Thinking about it now, These Are The New Old Times feels like a snapshot of mid-2000s indie rock—raw, heartfelt, and unafraid to wear its influences on its sleeve. But here’s the kicker: listening to it today, it still holds up. Maybe it’s nostalgia kicking in, or maybe The Yoko Casionos were onto something special. Either way, it’s one of those albums that reminds you why music matters—it connects, it resonates, and sometimes, it just plain rocks.
Oh, and random thought: if this album had a smell, I’m pretty sure it’d be coffee mixed with cigarette smoke and a hint of maple syrup. Weird, right? But also kinda perfect.
