Something Corporate that isn't a boy band

It's hard not to listen to a CD these days and imagine a room full of spikey-haired 13 year olds wearing $40 concert t-shirts and reciting lyrics like it was their job. Truth be told, the ironically-named Something Corporate have their fair share of teenage obsessors. At concerts, though, they mingle with trendy 20 year olds and disillusioned 30 year olds too.

Like Jimmy Eat World and the now-defunct Ben Folds Five (may it rest in peace), Something Corporate has pinpointed that special radio-friendly "something" that draws fans from diverse musical areas of comfort without letting them notice.

The band's first full-length album, Leaving Through the Window, debuted this year and hasn't yet found its way to the top of the MTV crop _ let's hope it stays that way. But already, the group is getting a reputation for catchy choruses, witty lyrics, and a hint of piano and strings orchestration that begs a second listen.

Its sound is undeniably derivative _ the lead vocalist, for starters, is two steps short of morphing into the voice of Blink 182 guitarist/Boxcar Racer frontman Tom DeLonge _ but its mix of endearing insecurity and layered production keep them out of the cookie-cutter pile.

The seeds of Something Corporate were planted way back in the last millennium, maybe even three years ago, when three high school guys in Southern California scraped a group together for a battle of the bands. Even though they won it, the group didn't last much longer than the contest.

Singer and pianist Andrew McMahon, Drummer Brian Ireland, and bassist Clutch (he already had the one-name thing down, apparently) were just futzing around until McMahon met guitarist Josh Partington at a party. The two inspired each other to take music seriously, and all four started playing together with rhythm guitarist William Tell (no joke) as Something Corporate.

The group took off and soon began selling out small clubs despite its lack of an album. Their success led it to sign with indie punk label Drive-Thru, which recognized the band as a crossover act between punk and pop and actively enabled it to reach more diverse audiences.

Leaving Through the Window follows Audio Boxer, a six-song EP that shares many of the same songs. The full-length album plays well at a party or on a road trip, depending on the mood of the listener. Opening with the upbeat "I Want to Save You," the CD immediately draws you into its lush production. Particularly striking are the crisp but not overly polished orchestra arrangements by Paul Buckmaster, among whose previous customers are Elton John, Ozzy Osbourne, and Stevie Nicks.

Every track, however, isn't a keeper. Typical, haven't-I-heard-this-before-in-Star-Market songs, include "Punk Rock Princess" and "iF yoU C Jordan" (cringe). These tracks aren't devoid of merit; they just fail to achieve anything more than head-nodding on the canned goods aisle.

You're better off sinking your teeth into the sonic brilliance of cuts like "I Woke Up in a Car" and "The Astronaut." What's notable here is the way the band melds pseudo-punk emo with strings and piano. Somehow, they manage to walk the high wire between cheesy sing-along and headbangers' ball inconspicuously.

But if you're like me and need to have a sob song to put on repeat, flip straight to track seven, "Cavanaugh Park." This is, hands down, the best song on the album. Alternating between melodic piano-y verses and the swinging electric guitar-based chorus, it taps into the sort of "American Pie" (the song, not the movie) nostalgia that raises lighters above heads in dim concert venues.

McMahon's piano playing shines through the power chords and intertwines beautifully with the orchestral arrangement. Throw in lyrics like "At Cavanaugh Park/ Where you used to take me to play in the sand/ And said to me 'son, one day you'll be a man/And men can do terrible things'/ Yes they can," and the introspective tearjerker is complete.

Throughout the CD, you never get that weird feeling that the background was laid down first and the vocals and strings were added karaoke-style six months later in another studio 3,000 miles away, even though that probably was the case. Though they revel in good production, these guys are real, immediate, and live to the ear.

The glue that holds Something Corporate together, in the end, is McMahon himself. At a whopping 19 years of age, one might say that the singer/songwriter/pianist is lucky to be so na??ve. His personal insecurities, as expressed by his lyrics, give the songs a sense of honesty cum wit that blows any "Sk8r Boy"-esque songs out of the water (with the exception of the aforementioned Star Market tracks).

McMahon's age and heartthrob status qualify him for teenage popularity, but his sharp songwriting supersedes the teenybopper labeling.

The best part about Something Corporate is that it is just getting off the ground. Its youth, enthusiasm, and sheer talent imply that there's much more to come _ and probably much more heartache for McMahon to write about. In the meantime, check out Leaving Through the Window and revel in the honest punk-pop that is Something (surprisingly un-) Corporate.