Take a step back from the current oversaturation of the “emo revival” and listen to a band that did it better back in 1996. Of course they weren’t trying to revive anything because they were already there. Instead of pandering, they were original. Also they were one of the many who helped bring that twinkly earworm Midwestern style to the reaches of today’s blogs and review sites.

Bells on Trike had only one release that we know of and it’s a self-titled ep. It’s seven songs and it doesn’t overstay it’s welcome, it’s not a slave to its style, it’s not glamorous, it’s not well produced, but darn if it isn’t a charming listen.

What’s remarkable about sorta obscure pieces of music such as this is how they are distinct snapshots of the past. It’s like finding an old polaroid hidden in a shoebox in your grandparent’s attic. There’s something unique about it, and you can’t really overdue it on a review for an album that’s over 20 years old and turn it into a god tier piece like how people treat bands such as American Football and Cap’n Jazz.

The songs themselves are very personal, which one can relate to of course. There’s a youthfulness to these recordings and that’s where the snapshot comes in. Harken back to a perhaps simpler time of being in a band and just freakin’ going for it; making music and telling stories, or even breaking free from whatever bonds you might be chained to.

The only minimal complaint against this album is how low the vocals are in the mix, but that’s nothing really. Lo-fi sounds in indie/punk rock were common back then and still are. That’s all a matter of taste.

If you are into this type of music and want to go back to the well from whence it came and get that pure, honest energy and passion, check out Bells on Trike and tell others about them. Don’t over-analyze, just listen. Dig it…