TheDisregarding the fairly terrible album title and cover artwork, The Junction’s Another Link in the Chain is that rare release that seems made up entirely of teases. And that’s not meant as slander – the Brampton group shoots out catchy guitar hooks and unexpected instrumentation like it’s going out of style (which it very well might be).

Another Link, the second full-length by The Junction, succeeds in its own upfront way of making aggressively energetic rock without sacrificing an ounce of personality. By ‘personality,’ I mean in particular frontman Brent Jackson, hammering out fairly generic chord progressions and emoting overtop of it with vocals that actually recall – of all people – Bono.

Here, The Junction seem to owe more to the British pop scene (particularly of the 90s) than they do to the spastic indie rock they’re supposed to be creating. Indeed, when taken as a whole the album is like what Blur and Oasis might have sounded like if they’d made decent music.

And they wear these conventional influences and average musicianship like badges of honor. You can correctly guess that “My Love Was There” is the single just from the first ten seconds, a handclap and speedy beat keeping it grounded while the guitar strums along like a lazy guy who’s just been pulled out of bed and forced to go on a jog. Jangling broken chords prevail in the chorus of that song and many others, usually juxtaposed (as in “Out of Here”) with staccato flicks of trebly guitar.

The aforementioned teases are what pull you through, though. “Level with Me” unexpectedly calls up a trumpet counterpoint to Jackson’s singing, leaving you hanging on to when it will come back, and in what form. “Under the Night Sky” relishes in a playfully nudging bass, while a piano shows up out of nowhere and the tiniest of electric keyboard lines makes a charming transition (briefly).

The album is surely not perfect, though. Sometimes you have to wonder if these little hints of broader scope are just used to hold the listener over to distract from the band’s lack of ambition. Or the way drummer Michael Taylor completely overdoses on the cymbals in many tracks (Maureen Tucker of The Velvet Underground would have his head on a stick). Or the unfortunate lull the album hits at the end of the first half with the useless “Pick Your Battles” and “Miles in Denial”.

But then Jackson’s voice comes in again in the next tracks, along with some shimmering guitar tone, and you suddenly want to get into a car and drive with this stuff playing loud. It’s all easy to forgive.

For more of the Junction,
MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/thejunction