Alvvays - Antisocialites (LP) - Clear w/ Yellow Splatter Vinyl

Alvvays sharpened their focus on Antisocialites, the Toronto band’s second album, which arrived on September 8, 2017 on Polyvinyl in the United States, Royal Mountain in Canada, and Transgressive in the UK. It is a tight, 30-something-minute run of hook-drunk indie pop that trims any extra fat from their self-titled debut and leans into a brighter, glossier melancholy. Molly Rankin’s voice sits clear at the center, cool and plaintive, while Alec O’Hanley’s guitars chime and bend around synths that glow rather than glare. The songs feel effortless, but you can hear the craft in the corners.

“In Undertow” sets the tone right away. It is the kind of opener that ends up stapled to your memory, the chorus lapping like a tide you keep walking back to even when you swear you are done with it. Then comes “Dreams Tonite,” a swoon of a track that has quietly become one of the decade’s indie-pop standards. The video sealed its place in the band’s story, using archival footage from Montreal’s Expo 67 and compositing the group into the crowds, which turned a shimmering love song into a time capsule. It is a neat trick that suits Alvvays well. Their songs often feel like postcards from a slightly faded summer that somehow feels better in your head.

Antisocialites never stays put, though. “Plimsoll Punks” jolts the record with a bratty grin and tangled guitars, a nod to post-punk pep without losing the band’s melodic streak. “Not My Baby” drifts in on keyboards and patience, a breakup song that sounds like sunrise after a long, restless night. “Saved By A Waif” pushes the tempo again. “Lollipop (Ode to Jim)” folds a sly Velvet Underground wink into Alvvays’ own sugar rush. There is a subtle push and pull across the sequence, so the record breathes like a live set rather than a playlist.

What sticks is how specific it all feels. Rankin’s delivery can come off airy at first listen, but she plants little stingers in the phrasing. The guitars are bright enough to bounce off a festival tent yet carry a seaside salt that traces back to the band’s Maritime roots. The rhythm section plays for the song, not the spotlight, which keeps the choruses popping without overcomplicating anything. By the time “Forget About Life” closes things, the album has built a small world that you want to step back into right away.

The record landed with critics and fans. It won the Juno Award for Alternative Album of the Year in 2018, and it made the Polaris Music Prize shortlist that same year. Those nods matched the general consensus around release week, where outlets singled out the band’s leap in songwriting and the near-perfect economy of the tracklist. Few indie albums in 2017 were as replayable, which is why these songs kept echoing from clubs, college radio, and late-night drives for years after.

Antisocialites also happens to be a great listen on wax. The arrangements have wide stereo shoulders, the vocals ride high without harshness, and the bass tucks in neatly under the sparkle. If you are crate-digging for Alvvays vinyl, this is the one that turns casual fans into lifers. Antisocialites vinyl tends to fly from the racks of any well-stocked shop, and you can buy Alvvays records online through the band’s labels and trusted retailers. If you are building a shelf of Alvvays albums on vinyl, put this next to the debut and their later triumph Blue Rev, then watch how often you reach for it. Even readers hunting around a Melbourne record store or browsing vinyl records Australia sites will know why this title sits in the front bins.

Seven years on, the album still feels fresh. Antisocialites is concise, emotionally direct, and built to last, the kind of indie pop that favors melody and feeling over clever studio tricks. It rewards a good pair of headphones and an open window, but it shines brightest when a needle hits the outer groove and that first guitar figure jumps into the room. Play it once and it is a visit. Play it twice and it is a habit.