The Bravery: Sam Endicott (vocals, guitar, programming); Michael Zakarin (guitar, background vocals); John Conway (synthesizer, programming, background vocals); Mike Hindert (bass instrument, background vocals); Anthony Burulcich (drums, background vocals).

The Bravery's self-titled debut is a slick twist on '80s new wave and post-millennium modern rock. Those who've followed the Killers, stellastarr*, and the like will surely pounce on the Bravery's luscious synth-driven pop. The 11-song set, produced by the band's frontman, Sam Endicott, is playful and confident, unlike the stressful production of the Killers' Hot Fuss. Sure, obvious influences (Duran Duran, the Smiths, the Cure) carry the weight of this album, but it's without haste. An overcast backdrop dresses the trashy hints of love and desire, and cocksure moments such as "Public Service Announcement" and "No Brakes" showcase the Bravery's swagger with style. Endicott goes from sounding like a Robert Smith copycat ("Tyrant") to a dirtier Julian Casablancas ("Out of Line") and maintains a focused, fashionable dance sound. "Unconditional" soars with a sly guitar/keyboard two-step while "An Honest Mistake" saunters like classic New Order with its dark-hued mechanical energy. The Bravery isn't sonically mind-blowing, but the new millennium new wave revival remains intriguing. This New York five-piece makes an interesting effort without it coming off contrived and dishonest. Get ready to shake your hips! ~ MacKenzie Wilson

There's a long history of American bands hitting it big in the UK before they become known at home, so the Brooklyn-bred, NME-feted Bravery is part of a hallowed tradition. While the Bravery is solidly in the mold of mid-2000s groups worshipping at the altar of the 1980s, they manage a canny syncretism on their self-titled debut album. While the Rapture, Out Hud, Interpol, and other NYC brethren may have picked up on specific aspects of the Cure, New Order, et al, the Bravery manages to craft an all-inclusive sound that incorporates the most infectious aspects of the aforementioned influences and more. Bleeping Depeche Mode synths, twanging New Order basslines, Robert Smith-inflected vocals, Duran Duran-tinged dance-rock beats, and effects-laden Echo & the Bunnymen-via-Smiths guitar riffs all vie for space here. The Bravery boys are clearly frothing with enthusiasm for the glorious era they're too young to really remember, and their passion for the sound of those halcyon days of eyeliner and synthesizers is bursting from the seams of this disc.