The Red Jumpsuit Apparatusā€™ debut album is screamo at its least threatening and most radio friendly. But although it may be highly diluted, it is also highly contagious.

Lead track In Fateā€™s Hands finds the five-piece blazing their way out of the speakers with a chorus blending screams and clean vocals as singer Ronnie Winter delivers a statement of intent of sorts about the bandā€™s ambitions and their good fortune so far. The following Waiting is another highly polished slice of rock that would sit well in a stadium environment, while the impassioned Face Down is an anti-domestic violence track with strong melodic punk overtones, alongside rippling guitar in the hook-filled chorus that makes it a standout on the album.

At times it feels like theyā€™re trying too hard to cover all the bases: on first listen itā€™s easy to believe youā€™re listening to several different bands as the songs veer from the soppy piano-embellished ballad of Cat And Mouse to Damn Regret, an easily accessible mid-paced anthem with high crossover appeal, to the more powerful Atrophy, to Misery Loves Its Company, which slows the tempo and alternates between delicate melodies and throaty yowls.

Your Guardian Angel is another emotional ballad, featuring strings and acoustic guitar for much of its length. Interestingly, the secret track, often the territory of soft songs, features in this case some of the most intense moments on the CD.

The song False Pretense is memorable primarily for the endearingly unironic way Winter exclaims ā€?guitar!ā€¯ before a brief instrumental break, which emphasises the fact that these guys are really just like any rock band, only dressed up in the latest fashion. If theyā€™d been around in the ā€™80s, they would have been playing hair metal, and the songs would have sounded much the same, with only superficial tweaks to fit the times. But while The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus really have nothing unique to offer ā€“ apart from their bizarre name ā€“ the album is nonetheless likable, even if it is something of a guilty pleasure.

Owen Heitmann

The Formatā€™s second album Dog Problems is a charming indie-pop record. The band consists of the duo of Nate Ruess (vocals and synth) and Sam Means (piano, keyboard, guitars, etc), together with a bunch of session musicians who fill out the sound and complete the pairā€™s vision.

Matches is a subdued introduction with keyboard and Ruessā€™ hushed vocals, but Iā€™m Actual brings the album vibrantly to life, the vocals ringing with clarity and the addition of horns and strings making the track swell fit to burst. Time Bombā€™s smartly brittle guitar pop, uplifted by piano, comes on like Canadaā€™s Sloan circa Between The Bridges ā€“ it might be slightly fey but itā€™s undeniably an effervescent highlight of a very likable album. She Doesnā€™t Get It is of nearly equal calibre, opening with potshots at MySpace tragics and brightened by swirls of synths and ringing notes.

Propelled by a rhythm that nods to disco, Pick Me Up continues the albumā€™s pop-tastic credentials, while the title track is a toe-tapper that could be ripped from a Broadway musical. It begins with just piano but quickly incorporates horns and percussion as well as a downbeat string-laden breakdown.

The grandiloquent Inches And Fallingā€™s opening declaration, ā€?I love love, I love being in loveā€¯, doesnā€™t promise much, but the lyrics do get more interesting and prove to be quite infectious.

Not every track is as jaunty as the synths and soaring vocals of Oceans, or the rhythmic piano-driven Dead End (co-written with Linda Perry). In particular, Snails is gently pastoral and recalls some of XTCā€™s later work. But overall the album does sound disarmingly happy and chirpy (despite the recurring themes of lost love and failed relationships). Itā€™s a winner!

Owen Heitmann