It's unfortunate that Bonny Doon didn't capitalize on a big opportunity. Following a decent buzz for their self-titled debut, the jangle-pop charlatans restlessly channeled a sound that incorporated Real Estate, Silver Jews, and early aughts Smog. These comparisons have comfortably stuck. Much like Real Estate, the jangly chord progressions and twinkling leads pave the way for Longwave, while Lennox and Colombo's stray observations of both city life and the nature that exists outside of it share some incredibly noticeable similarities to the lyrical style of both David Berman and Bill Callahan. It's never a bad thing to try and embody your idols, but when you're literally drowning in your influences, it's hard to tell what is truly authentic. Longwave seems to be full of these false pretensions.

When singer/guitarist Bill Lenox takes ahold of vocals, though, Bonny Doon sound like their old selves: young, anxious, and lost. But, when Bobby Colombo's voice takes charge, his inconsistencies show, often disturbing the healing process that Bonny Doon's songs usually emulate so well. Colombo brings the band's spirit down more than once, but particularly on 'Try to Be'.

Bonny Doon's quirky amalgamation of modern indie-pop and careless 90s' slacker rock is charming, but they seem to act like revivalists when a revival really isn't necessary. The title Longwave is pretty self-descriptive in itself: an endless wave of half-stoned, cheap wine-drunk melodies supported by an otherwise solid backing band. The album's biggest flaw, though? That would be the lack of contradictions. On Bonny Doon, you had the occasional midway jam, particularly on one of Bonny Doon's greatest accomplishments, 'Lost My Way'. It was a refreshing turning point for an otherwise mellow record, a necessity for an album that really wasn't demanding much from the listener.

Each song on Longwave feels like a sappy continuation of its predecessor, the self-titled Bonny Doon. The Detroit quartet's debut album for Woodsist is at times striking and catchy, but also finds itself digging up the same nostalgia-seeking melodies that showed some promise from Bonny Doon to begin with. These acts can grow old and stale, and, unfortunately for Bonny Doon, that time may have come a whole lot sooner than expected.

But perhaps one of Longwave's most redeeming moments is 'Part of Me', with Lennox taking the lead vocals, respectively, it's a down tempo Side Two closer, eerily reminiscent of the Velvet Underground at their most relaxed and smacked out. Lennox's will to carry the torch for Bonny Doon is clearer than daylight, building some promise for a record that is absurdly "hit or miss."

When it's all said and done, though, Bonny Doon have indeed grown up. They've grown out of their ambitious shells in attempts to comfortably rest with indie-starlets and label mates Woods and Simon Joyner. But, the fact of the matter is that they still have plenty of room to grow up. They're a young band, touring like crazy, recording as much as possible, and they really do have the capacity to make another great record. Lets just hope that time comes sooner than later, or before it's too late at all.