This is the way indie-rock is supposed to sound: a jumbled-up rollercoaster of sonic arguments that manage to agree just long enough to remember the chorus.  Full text...

Their album Boyhood totally has a corn-fed vibe that jacks up the aforementioned carny shack visuals—they could be happily knocking away at their accordions and banjos on a flatbed truck that moseys thru the dirty hills or better still opening for a flock of bearded ladies and nobody would be the wiser. Play the title track right on through the first 18 seconds of the next song "Appalachia" if you don't believe me.   Full text...

Boyhood is Paper Airplanes' attempt to situate themselves in this canon, and it both succeeds and fails on the strength of its attempted scope. It's a busy, often confusing record made by a young band intent on proving its maturity, which in the end, feels very appropriate.  Full text...

Paper Airplanes’ Boyhood is ridiculously operatic for an album — nay, a band — with such an adolescence-conjuring moniker. After a haughty intro track pregnant with plumes of just about every instrument you could imagine in the More Is Better era, Boyhood segues into a steady-weaving piano solo that unfolds and fastens its subsequent parlor comps to steadfast, crash-heavy drum racket.  Full text...