Mexico with Love. While the writing was a solo act, the band agrees that it's the final touches that are so important to the sound. That's where the collaboration with Sean, lead guitarist, and Sloane, on bass comes in. The melodies are funky and upbeat. Electric guitar riffs paired with smooth vocals, feel simple and happy: the kind of music you want to roller skate under a disco ball to. But the lyrics are anything but simple. The result is an electric testimony to the DIY tradition that investigates the places we go not just externally but internally. Inside that, landscapes spanning gratitude within the exhaustion of touring in the first track, "Hanson's Ghost," to the feeling of leaving behind a familiar life in "Look Back." He speaks of taking risks for love in "Put Up with the Weather!" With "Collect Call," Lachlan muses on forgotten dreams and letting go against an impossibly catchy melody. Thankfully for us, Mexico was more than just a place to quarantine. It was an inspiration as complex as the album itself, a fact that's honoured in the album title and the song "CDMX." "In Mexico, I had a lot of time to think about life, to face the demons and just figure s out. But there were also rapturous moments where I felt so free," says Lachlan of the writing process. Considering this, it's not surprising that woven into the flowing and sunny songs are real messages about self-work and growth. Songs like "Auto-Sabotage" and "Note to Self" deal with the reality that sometimes we're the ones getting in our own way. In "Can't Afford Psychoanalysis," Lachlan ironically sings 'I think I might require psychoanalysis.' (Something that he would probably recommend to the posers he sings about in "The Hating.") In "When Pigs Fly," the ending track, deep feelings of doubt and pessimism float over a bright and airy melody. While it may seem counterintuitive to pair such intense sentiments to upbeat "Japanese city pop" inspired melodies, that paradoxical nature is part of their musical DNA. Half Japanese, the Caskey brothers attribute it to their upbringing watching Studio Ghibli films. "They border on heart-breaking but the music is sweet," says Sean," That's where I got my melodic sense. I think melancholy is a big part of Japanese culture." To Lachlan, it's the hidden nature of these messages that make them even more powerful: "Melancholy