Personnel: Hutch Harris (vocals, guitar); Kathy Foster (vocals, piano, bass instrument, drums).

Recording information: Supernatural Sound, Oregon City, OR.

This Portland, Oregon, power-punk trio's fourth LP continues their Superchunk-like trajectory. The band has moved away from super-sweet hissy fits, and while fans of their early super-charged anthems might be dismayed, chances are they (like the band) could use a break from all the adrenaline. Along with being less sonically strident, NOW WE CAN SEE also tones down the righteous politics of their previous release, THE BODY, THE BLOOD, THE MACHINE. And like that record, the title track is NOW's anchor, summing up their slightly altered musical direction with lazy doo-wop harmonizing and repetitively minor chords. There are still garage rippers, like the outstanding innocence-regained rager "When We Were Alive," but NOW WE CAN SEE hints at a vision of long-term future rather than power-chord burnout.

The days of the lo-fi, rambunctious Thermals are firmly put to rest on their 2009 album Now We Can See. The almost violent youthful energy of their first records has slowly changed into something more measured musically, more thoughtful lyrically. The duo's (Hutch Harris on guitar, vocals, and words, Kathy Foster on drums and bass) previous album The Body, the Blood, the Machine was a political, passionate album that successfully accounted for the growing maturation of the band's sound with fire and fervor. This album is a different story. It's the first record where the band's conceit sounds like old hat, the first album where it sounds like they are professional musicians and not just a couple of rabble rousers making joyous, tortured noise. To blame are the slick production, the chord progressions on songs like "When I Died" that are pre-fab rock & roll, some radio-friendly guitar solos, and the sometimes pedestrian nature of the lyrics. The alternating ultra-confessional "I' songs and anthemic "we" songs are tiring instead of inspiring, and the passion in Harris's voice can't rescue them. It sounds like the fire that burned so brightly within them has dimmed, and instead of embracing the change and trying something new, they are trying to fight through it using technique and it ends up sounding forced and kind of bland. The album isn't a total disaster, though, there are a few songs that manage to overcome the record's flaws and deliver some excitement. "Now We Can See" has an ultra-hooky chorus and a nice, rollicking riff, "You Dissolve" brings in some piano to brighten the sound, and most promisingly, "At the Bottom of the Sea" is a restrained, moody ballad that shows a possible way forward for the band. Ditch the forced rock & roll and get melancholy and quiet. It may scare off some of their fan base, but making another album as formulaic and uninspired as Now We Can See will likely leave them with no fan base at all. ~ Tim Sendra

The days of the lo-fi, rambunctious Thermals are firmly put to rest on their 2009 album "Now We Can See." The almost violent youthful energy of their first records has slowly changed into something more measured musically, more thoughtful lyrically. The duo's (Hutch Harris on guitar, vocals, and words, Kathy Foster on drums and bass) previous album The Body, the Blood, the Machine was a political, passionate album that successfully accounted for the growing maturation of the band's sound with fire and fervor. This album is a different story. Thanks to the slick production, standard issue chord progressions on songs like "When I Died," some radio-friendly guitar solos and the sometimes pedestrian nature of the lyrics, it's the first record where they sound like professional musicians and not just a couple of rabble rousers making joyous, tortured noise. Still, there are a few songs that manage to overcome the record's flaws and deliver some excitement; "Now We Can See" has an ultra-hooky chorus and a nice, rollicking riff, "You Dissolve" brings in some piano to brighten the sound and most promisingly, "At the Bottom of the Sea" is a restrained, moody ballad that shows a possible way forward for the band. ~ Tim Sendra