The Prettiots have mastered the art of the band name. This Brooklyn three-piece's self-deprecating portmanteau sums up their mix of simple beauty and anti-intellectualism with unprecedented clarity.
In a world filled with art-pop, internet activism and more think pieces than you can fill one Twitter feed with, the sheer colloquialism of this debut album is exceedingly refreshing. Happily dropping suicidal Plath references on top of dreamy lullabies, the playfulness of the ukulele-driven pop throws off the sometimes jaded and morbid lyrics.
With their first full-length, The Prettiots only have one lesson to teach — that we all need to get our heads out of our asses and embrace that fun really is cool.
