Oranger. Oranges. Mmm... oranges. Oranges are pretty tasty. They have a nice, tangy taste. I like sweet oranges best, though. I don't really like the pulp in orange juice, though. Slimy! They may taste like a lot of other citrus fruits, but there's just something nice about them. I wouldn't say they're a necessity in my diet or anything, but when afforded the opportunity, I could enjoy a nice, sweet, juicy orange.

But I digress. Or do I? Perhaps I've caught you in my trap. Perhaps you're thinking, "He goes off onto a tangent about oranges before he can even get past the band name!" Well, good sire, I now reveal to you my master plan: perhaps I was talking about Oranger the whole time!

Oranger are a San Francisco psychedelic pop group on ex-Pavement member Spiral Stairs' new label, Amazing Grease. Mike Drake is the vocalist, guitarist, and main songwriter; bassist Matt Harris and drummer Jim Lindsay compose the rhythm section. And on The Quiet Vibration Land, their second record, the proficient trio's sound is fleshed out with multi-part harmonies, organ, synthesizers and spacy effects. Aside from these minor modern flourishes, though, and their studio-gloss production sheen, Oranger are strictly '60s.

At least they appear to be. Being an indie pop band these days practically guarantees influence from bands like Pavement or the Flaming Lips-- check the track "Falling Stars" for an nearly immaculate aping of the latter group's sound. The rest of Vibration Land, however, is spent in the arms of baby-booming peace and love. Take "A View of the City from an Airplane," for instance, and its swing at Help!-era outtakes, or "The Mother of All My Pain," which shoots for Brian Wilson on vaudeville and amphetamines. It's all been done before, but what the hell? The Apples in Stereo have, after all, become a household name amongst independent music fans by riding this same one-trick pony.

But despite the blatancy of their influences, Oranger manage to breathe a little life into a genre riddled with sad mimicry. Sure, they're not terribly unique, but they're far from untalented. The Quiet Vibration Land is smartly crafted and active, with only an occasional drone track ("Green Gold Rolling Skull") to weigh it down. Their ultimate salvation lies in their realization that not every track has to be a supercharged pop smash. There's something to be said for toning down the catchiness in search of something greater.

The Quiet Vibration Land has its share of distractions, too-- namely the brief interludes placed sporadically throughout the album. But while these tracks do cover a diverse range of territories outside Brian Wilson's backyard, they fail to sufficiently connect the album to the degree Oranger had obviously planned. They act, instead, as awkward diversions, especially in the case of the final interlude, which steals the glory away from the gorgeous "Straight Love" by incorporating ugly, manipulated breathing noises and dissonant keyboard effects.

Regardless, The Quiet Vibration Land gets a recommendation. They may sound like a lot of other citrus-pop, but there's just something nice about them. I wouldn't say they're a necessity in my diet or anything, but when afforded the opportunity, I could enjoy some nice, sweet, juicy Oranger.

-Spencer Owen