In a recent review on this very site I posited that perhaps rock-n-roll's grip on song structure has run its 50 year course. Well, just as quick as I can type 1-4-5, I find myself questioning those words. The stimulus comes in the form of a Texas spur called Peel and their self-titled debut, an album which deftly proves that rock has at least 35 more minutes to live, and moreover, it is alive and kicking.

Austin's Peel have the boozey bar-band chops of a Hold Steady, and the alt-county twang of any number of their fellow Lone Star Statesmen. But they have something else up their sleeves as well; hidden in the recesses of the record, a slight echo of Euro-Brit sway seeps in. On the first track, "Oxford," a standard opening chord progression quickly collapses into a vocal line that's sung like something off of a Madness record, with the phrasing and wry humor to boot: "If I had my way I'd demolish/ Every building of rock polished/ To shine so bright/ Like headlights in the day time." It's a playful way to begin a record of eleven quick tracks, each one trying to be the perfect 3-minute pop nugget.

Peel get style points for creative instruments, including multiple keyboards and horns, and for switching up male/female vocals. But the most endearing element the band employs is a copious amount of oh-so-slightly off-key guitars and voice. Normally this could be grating, but it works here, due to the sloppy sound that reeks off this digital pressing. You can almost feel the band slumbering into the studio after a hard night playing in one of Austin's many great clubs, and "inadvertently" tuning their axes a half-tone down. The best example is "Sliding Doors," a ditty that sounds as dusty as the Texas plains, sung and played in a total lackadaisical manner, until the tender and hopeful refrain of barflies everywhere: "I'm going start living the right way/ And setting my mind on someday." The one-two punch that catapults this album into "buy-now" turf are back-to-back "Love Soaked In Blood" and "Someone's Cousin." The former sounds like Stereolab, if they were stripped of their silky electronics and playing in your living room. The latter calls up the don't-give-a-turd attitude of the Sex Pistols, complete with drunken punk yelps and an ending that simply falls to pieces. The record closes with "Navy Waves," a slight rip of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but at this point, who cares?

So there you have it: Peel are great at peeling away multiple influences and exposing the damn fun part of rock. They may not be the most original band coming from Spoon territory, but they get props for keeping it really entertaining. Every time their debut album ends, I find myself taking it for another half-hour joyride. Perhaps I was wrong and Neil Young had it right: "Rock-and-roll can never die."