I fell in love with power pop as a teenager, in part because power pop is music for teenagers. It’s a genre built on youthful yearning, largely from youthful artists. The declarative hooks, the soaring harmonies, and the sweet yet strong guitars all express a teenage sense of wanting without waiting. Yet lyrically, there’s a revealing contrast of vulnerability, sharing the desires—even the uncomfortable ones—that made you panic-sweat in real life. That’s why power pop resonated with teen-me in the ’90s, even when some of the songs had been written 10, 20, sometimes 30 years earlier.
So how does power pop work when you get older?
Obviously, there are older fans (see: me and most other bespectacled music critics) and older artists (may Cheap Trick never retire), but at its best, power pop tends to be fueled by young passion. Are those of us who are still chasing that sugary sonic high into our 40s and 50s just out for nostalgia?
Not always, as Gary Klebe shows on his new album Out Loud. With his highly influential band Shoes, Klebe’s been a veteran of the power pop scene since the 1970s. But now, in his 60s, he’s putting out his debut solo record. And it is truly solo: Klebe performs all the vocals, plays most of the instruments, and produced and mixed the album, largely in his basement.
The result is a refreshingly mature take on the genre. Klebe’s hooks and melodies are as bright as ever, but that contrast between music and lyrics is more pronounced and complicated. Gone is idealism; in its place, lived experience. Klebe’s distinct tenor remains robust, but now there’s also a soulful weariness to it on songs like “Invading My Space,” akin to how Brian Wilson sounded on his later solo work. It adds a gravitas to his lyrics, too. You can write off the wants of a lot of power pop songs to youthful impatience, but here, Klebe sounds like he genuinely needs a fresh start on opener “Room to Breathe,” or the promise of a new romantic partner on album standout “Love Beyond.”
Also, it’s worth acknowledging that the male narrators’ honesty in classic power pop songs can come off as possessive at best, toxic at worst. Here, though, Klebe remains open-hearted while also showing self-awareness. “Wrong All Along” is a touching ownership of a failed relationship on lines like, “You were just wishing for more, and only got more of the same.” And a younger artist couldn’t write “Bridges Are Burned,” a sweetly sad ode to accepting you’ll never again be with, or maybe even see, someone who once meant the world to you.
While being heavier thematically, the record never becomes a bummer because, hey, it is still power pop. Klebe is fantastic in DIY mode, as the production is top-notch, sounding as crisp and full as a ’90s Matthew Sweet album. It’s the first album in some time that left me thinking, “I need to hear this on CD.”
The only times Out Loud falters is when it tries to come off as something other than reflective power pop. Mid-album pair “Shake Me” and “No Afterglow” feel like conscious attempts to deliver some harder rock, but as a result lack the charm of the rest of the album. And the album’s cover of a gray metal skull with incredibly detailed gray metal teeth singing into gray metal mics against a gray metal wall is… a lot. Far more aggressive and ugly than any note within.
Fortunately, it shouldn’t deter the people who’ll most enjoy this album. Hell, you probably know just from reading this review if you’ll like the album. This is power pop music for power pop adults. Gary Klebe is still pulling from sonic and emotional references you know and love, but in a way that feels less like nostalgia and more like “Where are we now?”
