Like most jangle-pop with roots in ’60s folk-rock, this New York quartet pins its hopes on enticing vocal harmonies. While the group’s original songs are sturdy and charming, production on The Children (by Bob Rupe of the Silos) is mediocre: while the male and female voices come through with reasonable clarity, the simply arranged guitars and drums are a shambles.
Except for a shoebox snare tone, the sound on Every Single Day (produced by Carl LaFong, a name sure to be familiar to fans of W.C. Fields) is immeasurably better. But an inappropriate rock sensibility, fewer bursts of striking four-part harmony and songs that aren’t as ingratiating as those on the first album keep the Children out of the big kids’ league.