. . . if I’m going to be sick of it in

. . . if I’m going to be sick of it in six weeks. I’ve been devouring Tripper, which Sub Pop released on Aug. 2, all summer. It’s sparkly and restrained, but brings the hedonism of arena rock to the indie set. The songs are uncompromisingly poppy, and instantly pleasurable. And that’s why I’m starting to check myself.It’s rarely the saccharine-sweet records that make for long-term relationships. And I’m bracing myself for the moment the feeling fades. But there’s something about the nuance of the record–the sparse falsetto, patient melodic build-up, tasteful instrumental tinkering, and impeccable sequencing–that gives me the impression that this one could be a real keeper.To be continued.Follow us on Facebook and Twitter.