Surefire Solution EP (This is Music) by v.d. cummings In 1988, a UVA rock radio DJ named Steve Malkmus returned home to his native Stockton, California, and mentioned to his childhood friend & bandmate Scott that it’s really easy to put out vinyl singles, & “Hey, why don’t we make up these songs & just put them out?” Three years later, Pavement had a catalogue of short EPs that were glorious collections of feedback, thick, bright guitars and strangely consonant songs - each was a frenzied harbinger of the sounds that would influence independent music for the next decade and beyond.

Lots of bands over the past two decades have made such artistic jumpstarts with exciting debut EPs - groups like Belle & Sebastian, Mudhoney and The Beta Band packed some of their best material on early, harder-to-find EPs, to the masochistic whimper of dark-rimmed vinyl geeks worldwide. And the tradition of low-budget, sweaty, late night recording sessions is still in high season; some of the more prominent examples as of late include the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and The Strokes.

There are also, however, the bands who, right out of the gate, take a fixed aim upon commercial stardom—their demos are polished & tempo-mapped, and they use the words “really professional sounding” when describing them. And this is about where we find New York City’s Surefire.

Surefire’s Solution EP most clearly recalls the Shins, Brighten the Corners-era Pavement, early Big Star’s sensitive side, and a dash of Coldplay. In layman’s terms, Surefire has put out a bright, mellow rock record which features earnest, hearts-on-their-sleeves lyrics, meandering guitar solos, well-placed background vocal harmonies and generally solid songwriting.

And the results are pleasant enough. If I had to pick a favorite, it would be either the opener, “Seems to Me,” or the third track, “Wonderful Life;” the latter sounds a lot like vintage Fountains of Wayne (er, 1996…), with an almost dreamy Beatles feel. The former features a great, catchy little chorus with a non-verbal vocal hook (“Oh”s, to be exact).

If I had to pick a least favorite track, though, it would without a doubt be the closer, “The Day Breaks;” this track is an inexplicable departure into the realm of down-tempo white blues, complete with a synth organ and an extended bass solo. It ends on a cymbal trill. It’s really just horrible—honestly, it sounds like watered-down moe., and its presence on the EP potentially undermines the band’s credibility.

Still, I suppose the group does deserve some credit for getting by with only one truly shitty track, seeing as how the record was engineered and co-produced by 90’s Top 40/R&B veteran Ed Rak—whose credits include Peabo Bryson, Ashford & Simpson, and other stuff that your boss probably fucks his wife to. Despite this, songwriter/frontman Ben Stapleman conveys a sincerity in his music that I think would be apparent to most listeners.

Ultimately, though, Surefire lacks some of the qualities that make a rock group, particularly a young rock group, great; while their music is definitely better than the average NYC fare, there’s really nothing terribly exciting about it, either. There’s none of the urgency, or perhaps novelty, that all of the aforementioned groups have managed to evoke when at their best—maybe not Peabo, but you get the idea.