This debut by Charlotte’s Public Radio is a strong mix of lo-fi electronic beats, multi-faceted effect-laden guitar work and layered pop vocals. As well conceived a first offering as any in the genre, Sweetchild is one of those albums that lets you know that a band has a voice, but that they are still learning how to use it. While the mixture of genres assembled by this southern foursome is edible and consumable by hungry ears, it reaches the palate much like a delicious sandwich that has been constructed with several eclectic ingredients on plain white Wonder bread. You can taste it and it’s wonderful, but you can’t help but wonder why the guy didn’t use a panini or some marble rye bread.

Public Radio has managed to craft some very compelling music which builds gracefully from basic and boring beats that make Casio presets sound like a symphonic percussion section. This may be intentional, but it detracts in a huge way from the overall presentation of the songs. The title track is a perfect example. Structurally the song presents emotive and inventive lyrics, dynamic melodies and chord progressions, build ups and vocal bins in a fantastic and breathtaking way that quickens your pulse and compels you to dance, scream and swoon. But the opening bars and backbeat are a minimalist nightmare of cheap drum sounds and synth pads, lessening the effect of the rest of the song.

The band’s label recommends them for fans of The Postal Service and Paramore and I can see the comparison to each; Public Radio does employ elements of each band. But if Paramore is like that bologna sandwich that your mom makes you and The Postal Service is that weird vegan pita that you get at the hippy place up the road; then PR is what you get from that Jewish deli run by Mexican immigrants and sponsored by Sara Lee. An appetizing hors d’oeuvre of corned beef, pico de gallo and pickles served up on two slices of bleached, sliced America.