Grand Republic

Columbia’s Grand Republic sounds like it could’ve been on IRS Records in the early-’80s, and that’s meant as a compliment to the band’s tight, melodic and jangly guitar pop. It’s the kind of stuff they used to call “college rock,” with an occasional nod to shoegaze’s sheets of guitars. - Columbia Free-Times

The opening “The Curse” [sic] rides a sleek rock pulse that calls to mind to The Strokes, but it refracts and bends through cozy distortion, borrowing Built to Spill’s prism. “Stab in the Heart” gussies the rough edges of Exiles on Main Street without dulling its rambunctious spirit, rivaling similar tricks pulled by the likes of Sloan and Spoon. With airy guitar tones and intensely earnest vocals, “Moon Is Loud” falls somewhere between Big Star’s Third and Weezer’s Blue Album — supple and unfailingly charming, but also distinctly nervy.

But the most impressive feat is how Grand Republic smooths these various flavors into its own distinct melange, with clever songwriting beats and melodic wrinkles that mark these songs as the work of an ambitious and vital band, one charting its own enticing course through the pop-rock canon. - Columbia Free-Times

Formed with longtime musical partner Troy Tague on drums and eventually adding a host of other scene veterans, the band developed its own distinctively hazy sound that recalls guitar-heavy British avant-pop groups The Stone Roses, and The Charlatans, but also the ambling sprawl of Built to Spill and the sonic tinkering of Spoon. - Columbia Free-Times