Asteria

To a classics scholar, Asteria is a mythical goddess who drowned herself in lieu of a non-consensual shtupping by the all-powerful Zeus. She’s a symbol of feminine power and defiance. To fans of Midwestern pop-punk, Asteria are five well-dressed 20-somethings with week-old stubble who sound a little like Hit the Lights or any number of smirky, would-be Jimmy Eat Worlds. You think the guys know about their proto-feminist namesake? Maybe not. According to band lore, drummer Sam Henderson came up with the name while reading a gardening book; it sounded like “wisteria,” which is a climbing vine with super-pretty purple flowers. That begs the question: Are Asteria the handsome twits that this anecdote paints them to be? After listening to a few cuts from their self-titled, self-produced EP, which they released last year, I think it remains a solid possibility. Despite a smattering of catchy hooks, particularly on the good-time anthem “Hoods & Capers,” there’s a fatal lack of disorder in the songwriting; it’s slick, meticulous, and depressingly obedient. In other words, it’s a pop-punk album that has as much in common with classic punk as a neo-liberal has with a regular liberal. Which is to say, zip.