Some years ago, my brother lamented the classic rock formula that dominated the commercial radio in his regional hometown. “And even when they have a "special" program,” he complained, “it’s the same bloody playlist, but in a different order!” As noted elsewhere in recent media reports, the same obsession with classic ’60s and ’70s hits and memories continues to saturate the airwaves. Local content requirements are met via a well-practised formula of somnolent smoke and nostalgic mirrors; classic rock pays the advertising bills better than ever.

Despite this, it’s unlikely you’ll ever turn on a commercial radio station and hear the glistening power pop melodies of Melbourne institution Even. Even has been around a while, with varying degrees of national and occasional international success. Sadly, the band’s stage and studio appearances are relatively infrequent these days: Ash Naylor’s demand as a session musician is so high it’s rumoured he’ll be publicly listed on the local stock exchange in 2012, and the ubiquitous Wally Kempton carries the Melbourne music scene on his shoulders like a modern-day Atlas. Yet, as anyone who’s been lucky enough to see them play live in recent times will attest, Even are as sharp and fresh as ever.

And to prove the point comes Even’s latest release, In Another Time. Two years and eight studios in the making – clearly, the band didn’t take up the gratuitous suggestion made a couple of years ago that it hole up in Melbourne’s Atlantis Studios and smash out a record in 24 hours – In Another Time is proof that a celebration of the glorious riffs, melodies and elegant style of the ’60s and ’70s doesn’t need to be an exercise in turgid nostalgia.

From the psychedelic Sunbury cover design to the faux-’60s back cover layout, Even has located itself in another time where all is good with the world. From the moment ‘Satellite/Sunlight’ struts into aural view with cocksure swagger, Even is onto to a sure-fire winner. On the slick early-’70s pop of ‘No Star’ Naylor offers his wry observations on a music industry that can’t see the beautiful old wood musical forest for the contrived young pop star trees. ‘Temperamental Flower’ captures Alex Chilton on the cusp of his Big Star cult fame, ‘To the Lights’ is Western Australian powerpop of Summer Suns-quality, and the dirty rock riff at the heart of ‘What You Wanna Do’ resolves any outstanding queries left open in the song’s rhetorical title.

The Four Seasons-spiced ‘Overtime’ (featuring backing vocals from Linda and Vika Bull) is the latest installment in pop music’s perennial obsession with the frustrating grind of daily existence. ‘Melody Mae’ is Kinks-whimsy in all its village green glory. ‘There’s No Time’ blends the psychedelic power of Soundtrack of Our Lives with flowering Antipodean pop, while the harmonic talents of Wolfgramm Sisters lift the smoke-filled London blues of ‘The Full English’ into a smouldering world of unbridled wonder. The album concludes with a meandering psych-stained instrumental jam, an ode to an era when indulgence passed the test of artistic brilliance with flying kaleidoscopic colours.

All too often, nostalgia is simply a cheap and nasty means of exploiting the fads of yore. In the hands of Even, the past is merely the perfect inspiration for the present.

by Patrick Emery