The Ocean Blue are another one of those bands that got lost in the shuffle somewhere along the way, slipping through the cracks at a major label that never tried hard enough for them. There are so many of these anecdotes out there that it's hard not to become deeply cynical about the whole music industry, but this band's story is one of those inspiring tales of a group carrying on despite it all, and coming up largely on top in the end.

After getting dumped from the Mercury Records roster in 1996 shortly after the release of their fourth album, See, the Ocean Blue picked up and recorded Davy Jones' Locker on their own, releasing it through their website in 1999. Two years on, March Records has picked them up and made the record more readily available, which begs the usual lost album question: was it worth the wait? For the most part, I'm pleased to report, the answer is yes.

The Ocean Blue are still making the same type of vaguely British-sounding American pop they've been churning out since they formed way back in 1987. Mind you, there's no prefix to throw on the pop these guys make-- it's pure and unpretentious, like freebasing an oldies station. If you're the kind of person who digs lightweight, breezy pop, you'll likely be hooked by the first few bars of opener, "Ayn," a lilting slab of jangle and melody with a bounce in its step and a smile on its face. In fact, just about the only place where the sun doesn't shine on this album is in the lyrics, which often allude to loneliness, romantic rejection and other traditional pop afflictions.

Though there's nothing truly objectionable here, the Ocean Blue hit a peak with the fourth song, "My Best Friend." The uncertain lyrics never culminate in a vocal hook, instead giving way to a ravishing descending guitar figure. The laid-back verses contrast sharply with the bridge, which is essentially lifted as closely as legally possible from "You Never Give Me Your Money." This gives way to the Ventures-lite surf interlude "Cukaloris," a minor distraction that nonetheless segues nicely into bassist Rob Minnig's "Been Down a Lot Lately," full of arpeggiated guitars to complement the engaging melody.

Guitarist/keyboardist Oed Ronne contributes the album's best track, though. The outstanding "Consolation Prize" is possessed of the kind of classic melody that would suit a jazz standard rather nicely. David Schelzel pushes his voice a lot further on this song than on any of his own compositions, and it unfortunately serves to highlight how uninteresting some of the album's other melodies are. One exception is "So Many Reasons," which laps up on the shores of the Left Banke, nicking its lead guitar part from the melody of that band's "And Suddenly."

The rest of Davy Jones' Locker is simply pleasant listening, though moments like the chorus modulation and clever harmonic shifts in "Do You Still Remember Me?" shine through rather brightly. Part of the problem is the production, which the band executed themselves. The heavy reverb and preponderance of space can drown otherwise passable melodies, and it usually leaves the basslines lacking in some necessary punch. What you end up with is a sound that, while often engaging, is completely toothless. As a result, very little of what you hear hangs on to you after the disc stops spinning.

For their next effort (and it's reasonable to assume that there will be one), the Ocean Blue need to shop around for a producer who understands their sound and knows how to imbue it with some needed grit without compromising it completely. That's a delicate balance to maintain for sure, but right now the scale is tipped so far toward light and carefree that injecting a little muscle and density could only help. While expanding their voice could make them great, there's no denying that the Ocean Blue are good right now, and that's what makes Davy Jones' Locker worthwhile for pop fans everywhere.

-Joe Tangari