Did you ever wonder how the whole nostalgia thing played out 30 years ago? Which bands in the late '60s were like, "Fuck this acid rock shit, the '50s had the best music!" There was Sha Na Na, I guess. Were they a real band? I know they played Woodstock, somewhere between the Who and the Dead with their slicked-back hair, sunglasses, and that guy Bowser flexing his muscles and sneering. For Sha Na Na, good music stopped being made when Elvis went to the Army and Jerry Lee married an 8th grader. They weren't having none of that late-'60s mess.

And now, as the 20th century fades into the distance, more than a few bands feel the same disdain for the '90s. The best example in indie circles are inarguably the bands that make up the Elephant 6 collective, a paisley constellation that seems to orbit around Robert Schneider and his Apples in Stereo. To take these groups seriously, we have to ask: Is it possible that the best rock music of all time was made in the '60s? Beatles, Beach Boys, Kinks, Who, Stones, Zombies, Turtles... an impressive list, considering they all hit the charts within a four-year period. But the best? Well...

Of the aforementioned '60s bands, the Beach Boys are the one that comes up most when people talk about the Apples in Stereo. This comes from the fact that, like the Beach Boys, the Apples display little Black American influence in their music. The Beatles, after all, knew their way around blues changes, and their knowledge of artists on the Chess label went deeper than Chuck Berry. The Beach Boys, on the other hand, copped Berry's licks without every wondering where they came from. And Robert Schneider's gaze gets a little blurry somewhere right around Carl Wilson.

If The Discovery of a World Inside the Moone fails to find the Apples branching into James Brown territory, it's still the band's most diverse outing, and debatably their finest. Wisely jettisoning the noodly experiments that made Her Wallpaper Reverie seem much longer than it actually was, the Apples turn their focus squarely back on the catchy song, with a more pronounced feel for instrumental variety. "Go" kicks off with rollicking horns and corny background vocals that give the flavor of a lost Mutantes song. "The Rainbow" is far too sunny and upbeat for all die-hard power-pop fans, but there's no denying the strength of the tune. "Stream Running Over" is the best track here and, for my money, the most irresistible thing the band has done, with a simple and profound melody drawn from the finest pop archetypes.

There's a slight dip in quality on the rest of the record, but it still ranks as smart, workmanlike pop for those who like their pop music poppier than necessary. "20 Cases Suggestive of..." is fuzzy, '80s-style pop-punk, with pregnant drummer Hilarie Sidney offering her Go-Go's- inspired vocals. "The Bird That You Can't See" finds the band struggling to get on the good foot, as it alternates between funk and rock beats, but in the end, the awkwardness makes it a charmer. And "Allright/Not Quite" changes the pitch up with some screaming from Schneider on some of the verses, a technique he should attempt more often. Most of the ballads are pretty ineffective, though-- they're just a little too slapped-together to sound sincere. But the folky, acoustic "The Afternoon" ends the record on a pleasingly wistful note. Yes, we've heard it all before, but it's still pretty good for what it is.

-Mark Richard-San