San Francisco has a solid indie pop band in Geographer, but there’s still something disappointing about the group.

 

Vocalist/guitarist/synth player Michael Deni, cellist Nathan Blaz and drummer Brian Osteicher are good musicians, and their new album “Myth” sits comfortably amongst other indie-synth pop releases from the likes of Hot Chip and Phantogram. It would be a lie to call them groundbreaking—but evidently, this is not a problem for either the band or the music world. Ever since Peter Gabriel and Annie Lennox started experimenting with synthesizers, Geographer (or bands just like them) has been churning out rhythmic electronica, inspired and impelled by their musical context. And while it would be wrong to judge bands merely for taking inspiration from obvious musical paragons (despite how tempting it is), is there any value in having three hundred versions of the same song written, recorded and performed by 300 bands with the same musical consciousness?

 

That’s not to say that Geographer has no charm. Nathan Blaz’s cello adds an interesting touch to the synth-infused pop the band delivers in this their sophomore effort. “Life of Crime” would not be the star opener that it is without the twisting cello line in the background. And while Michael Deni’s falsetto sounds at times exactly like Alexis Taylor from Hot Chip, the more original songs have him slurring and hiccupping his way through would-be ‘80s hits.

 

The issue is not that Geographer is unpleasant, but their “charm” is a quality other bands have already capitalized on (Ra Ra Riot anyone?), and it can no longer ascribe individuality on any band.

 

“Myth” is a collection of standard, shimmery indie pop tracks one would expect from its genre, but that’s not to say it is completely devoid of gems. One of Geographer’s strong suits is taking inspiration from the past without translating it too literally: “Kaleidoscope” has an odd, reverberating background vocal line that echoes throughout the song, lending it a brassy ‘80s feel, while “Blinders” has an interesting solo on keyboards that sounds like a Hammond organ, a throwback to ‘70s classic rock. The best one-word description of “Lover’s Game” is retro: incredibly catchy, with a great hook in its staccato chorus and crooning reminiscent of a sixties boy band, the track is all sugar. The only issue is that it lacks soul.

 

I am a big believer in last tracks representing a band’s sound, and “Kites” does credit to my conviction. This is chip music done right. It does not sound like a throwback to another time—it’s current, the synths are tight and controlled and the cello softens the atmosphere while complementing the drawn-out chorus line. It’s a good track, but that’s not to say it isn’t paradigmatic: it is. I’m not saying we should expect every single indie band to reinvent the wheel, because most of the time, the wheel works just fine. The question to ask is: how many “Kites” do we want, and will we ever be satisfied with just one?