Ah, Canada. She has bestowed upon us such grand gifts through the ages. Where would contemporary culture be without such media icons as Michael J. Fox and John Candy? What well-balanced child could blossom without heavy doses of "You Can't Do That On Television?" Could the words "Eh?" and "Hoser" have become so ingrained in colloquial speech without such a monolith of filmmaking as "Strange Brew?" I don't think so. Would we have mounties and Dudley Do-Right to mock? Certainly not. Could malicious assault have become legitimate in society without hockey? Let's not be ridiculous.

Thus, in the great tradition of Canadian musical imports, we are given the Flashing Lights, a retro-tinged power-pop outfit headed by former Super Friendz frontman Matt Murphy. Murphy is one hell of an emaciated-looking guy, but he can still masterfully create the kind of pop song you form a strong attachment to immediately. Personally, I've grown quite fond of "Highschool," not only because it's the musical equivalent to heroin, but also because I'll forever associate it with a certain person with whom I shared a very memorable Spring Break. Of course, I'd be the last one to say that catchiness is any indicator of musical merit, but the songwriting is really quite proficient on Where the Change Is. It's that breed of album which strikes you initially as pretty good, then improves with repeated listening.

The album's centerpiece, "The Unattached," contains a fantastic chord progression whose intriguing distortion and intensity are kept varied and fresh, rather than beaten into the ground with monotonous repetition. And while all of the record's songs are not necessarily wonderful throughout, almost all have that one moment of greatness that you listen for expectantly, making the whole experience worthwhile.

The major shortcoming of Where the Change Is is its unabashed kitschiness. How many truly brilliant bands can you name who actually chant their own name during one of their songs? The Flashing Lights have their own distinctive sound, but their retro edge initially makes them sound just as derivative as lesser bands who take the same approach. Also, they actually play a song called "Talk to the Hand" on the album, which would have been inexcusable had the song itself not been executed with dignity. And hey, maybe it's cool to say that in Canada. Regardless, Where the Change Is rocks hard enough to warrant both headbobbing and frequent listening. Let's encourage those Canucks to send us less maple syrup and more stuff like this.

-Taylor M. Clark