Whilst perusing the merchandise in Record Ron’s not long ago, my eyes chanced to gaze upon an ancient Archie’s lunchbox. Archie, Jughead, et al, were playing guitar, etc. in the typical cartoon rock band fashion. At that moment, I had a catharsis. Unlike most youngsters whose first musical experience may have been an older relation’s Led Zeppelin albums, my earliest musical influences were entirely informed by fake ‘60s bubblegum bands. The Archies, the Monkees, Josie and the Pussycats, the Banana Splits, and, of course, the Bugaloos (in case you don’t remember, this last group, composed of four-inch high fairies, was on Saturday morning TV long ago) were the cause of my peculiar taste in music. Of course, I realize that my predilection for pure pop pap is shared by many bands and musicians, but this was the first time I traced it to its barely-remembered source. Anyway, the point of all this is that fellow sufferers Jellyfish have just released the penultimate bubblegum album. But happily, this is bubblegum with balls.

This San Francisco-based band, which achieved some fame with its first album, 1990’s Bellybutton, is similar to other Beatles-based power pop bands—most noticeably XTC (without the jazzy bits)—but its own inherent quality shines through. This album sounds great; the production, by the band, Albhy Galuten (a veteran of those “classic” ‘70s Bee Gees disco albums) and Jack Joseph Plug, is superb, full of clever flourishes and turnarounds. In fact, it sounds something like a mid-‘70s Queen album (the inner sleeve photo seems to be an homage to the similar one on Queen’s Jazz, as does the paean to onanism, “He’s My Best Friend,” especially in the harmonies). The lush and intricate harmonies also share a serious Beach Boys influence, and the Freddie Mercury/Brian Wilson mix is interesting to say the least. But this album is more than a rehash of classic pop sounds—the songs themselves are great, full of memorable melodies, hooks and lyrics written by singer/drummer Andy Sturmer and keyboardist Roger Manning.

I had the pleasure of seeing Jellyfish at Tipitina’s a few years ago, and they were amazing. All the studio sounds that usually never come across live were there. The sight of Sturmer standing and playing his kit while singing beautifully blew me away. This album does not immediately grab you as did the group’s debut, but the more complex arrangements hold promise for future endeavors. Spilt Milk was obviously a long time in the making, and was definitely worth the wait.