All Time Low - Wake Up Sunshine (LP) - Custard & White Splatter Vinyl

Wake Up, Sunshine landed on April 3, 2020, right as the world shut down, and it felt like a small lifeline from a band that knows their way around a hook. All Time Low took a back-to-basics approach for this one, holing up together in a house in Palm Springs to write and record as a unit, then finishing the album with producers Zakk Cervini and Andrew Goldstein. You can hear the benefit of that shared headspace. The performances feel lived-in and tight, the melodies snap into place, and the whole thing has that bright, band-in-a-room energy that made so many of us fall for them in the first place.

It opens with Some Kind of Disaster, which reintroduces All Time Low with big drums, chiming guitars, and a chorus that sticks. There’s a confidence to Alex Gaskarth’s vocal that sets the tone for the record. Sleeping In keeps that spark going with a breezy tempo and sly, conversational lyrics. Then Getaway Green hits and you remember they were already road-testing this one at Slam Dunk Festival back in 2019. On the album, it’s tighter and shinier, but it still feels like something you want to shout along with in a sweaty club.

The collaborations are smart and well placed. Monsters, with blackbear, became a genuine crossover moment for the band, topping Billboard’s Alternative Airplay chart in 2020 and later getting a remix with Demi Lovato. It’s moody without sinking into sludge, and the call-and-response between Gaskarth and blackbear plays like a late-night conversation with the radio up. Favorite Place brings in The Band CAMINO, and that pairing makes perfect sense. Their melodic instincts slot right into All Time Low’s world, sharpening the edges of a song that already has a rocket of a chorus.

There’s a thread of seasonal gloom running through the record that’s handled with surprising lightness. January Gloom (Seasonal Depression) winks at the title while bouncing along on a rubbery bass line from Zack Merrick. Melancholy Kaleidoscope does a similar trick, pairing anxious lyrics with sunny guitars. That contrast is a long-standing pop-punk move, but the band has grown into it. Rian Dawson’s drums keep everything grounded and crisp, while Jack Barakat’s guitar lines are all tasteful sparkle and punch rather than sugar overload.

Midway through, the title track arrives with warm, late-afternoon light. It’s not a grand statement so much as a reminder to look up and take a breath, which suited April 2020 more than anyone could have planned. Clumsy is another highlight, a mid-tempo sway that lets the vocals breathe. Pretty Venom (Interlude) strips things back, setting up the slow-burn drama of Glitter & Crimson, a song that proves they can stretch beyond the three-minute sugar rush when they want to.

Basement Noise closes the record with nostalgia and a grin. It’s written like a postcard to teenage years spent in garages and rec rooms, and it lands with real feeling. That sense of history matters here. Wake Up, Sunshine isn’t a retread of Nothing Personal or So Wrong, It’s Right, but it taps into the camaraderie and immediacy of those eras. Critics picked up on that too, with positive nods from outlets like Kerrang! and AllMusic for the band’s renewed focus and melodic punch.

If you’re crate-digging and you spot Wake Up, Sunshine vinyl, don’t sleep on it. The sequencing works nicely on wax, and the production has just enough grit to make the guitars breathe through a good system. Collectors who chase All Time Low vinyl already know how satisfying their albums are on a turntable, and this one sits well next to the classics. If you prefer to buy All Time Low records online, most reputable shops have kept it in print thanks to steady demand. I’ve even seen copies pop up in a Melbourne record store or two, a nice find if you’re browsing for vinyl records Australia side on a Saturday afternoon.

Released through Fueled By Ramen, the album marked a bright chapter for a band well into its second decade, still hungry, still writing hooks that feel like shared secrets. All Time Low albums on vinyl tend to become little time capsules for fans, and this one captures that strange, hopeful spring of 2020. Put it on, let the room fill with sunshine, and remember why guitar-pop like this still hits so hard.