There Stands the Glass

I’m the same age, race and gender of the majority of music enthusiasts raving about Strum & Thrum: The American Jangle Underground 1983-1987. Thirty-five years ago, we tuned into college radio stations with playlists liberally peppered with melodic bands inspired by The Byrds. I vaguely remember a quarter of the 28 songs on the new compilation and have vivid recollections of attending mid-’80s club shows by Great Plains, Salem 66 and the Windbreakers, three of the better-known groups represented on the set. Naturally, I anticipated thoroughly enjoying Strum & Thrum. My immediate revulsion surprised me. The songs are embarrassingly wimpy, exasperatingly twee and glaringly devoid of soul. I’m horrified by my one-time affection for these middling trifles. To be fair, elite bands of the genre like Let’s Active, the Long Ryders and R.E.M. aren’t included on the compilation. While I’d still like to peruse the 80-page booklet that comes with the vinyl edition, I hope to never hear any of these characterless songs again.