Gumdrops. Little synthesized electric drops of sweetness. That is the kind of music that Oppenheimer makes. The sentiment sounds corny. It sounds silly. But it is true. Their music isn't gumdrops like you see them now sitting pathetically on the shelf in the drugstore in a plastic bag with lost granules of sugar collecting at the bottom. No, these are the gumdrops of a child, bright and sugary spice drops from heaven. Your biggest problem was choosing which color to eat first. Your biggest problem with this album is which track to listen to first.
The sampler CD I reviewed didn't have the full album's song list but it did contain five songs that would fall into the "playful" category. The closest thing I can compare it to would be the feeling that I got from listening to the Len album all those summers ago. Even "Nine Words", arguably the most sedate song, peppers the mournful falsetto of singer Shaun Robinson with an upbeat, poppy drumbeat. Even when the group is talking down to people like in "My Son The Astronaut", you can't help but tap your foot.
"Only when your heart is, only when your heart is bulletproof, bulletproof / you know you'll be handling the punches, handling the punches quietly, quietly / I know you were influenced by movies, influenced by movies watching this, watching this / is taking you to thinking this is real when, thinking this real when happiness, happiness is all you know. / I - I - I should listen to your broadcast."
Here the group is singing to someone who very much like their music is simple. They take what they see in the media and take it as reality. Oppenheimer's strength comes from their ability to not only sympathize with this sentiment but in wishing they could reclaim it. When it comes to lost innocence, everyone mourns. Oppenheimer just makes you feel good doing it.