Clever little hedonists that they are, Philly-based pop-punk fusionists The Grundles explore themes like freak shows and white trash with a kind of sonic optimism suggestive of Hüsker Dü (and sometimes Hüsker Dü-meets-honky tonk, or Hüsker Dü-meets-The Specials). Disgrundled is full of noisy, guitar-driven tracks, and lyrically it's not always pretty, but the result is always sweetened by catchy sing-along melodies, shimmery harmonies and occasional uncharacteristically lovely lyrics (for example, "Nothing Goes As Planned"'s "If I could change my ways / would you still be mine? / And can I make it clear to you / I'm not the hurting kind?")

"Bring You Down" starts with the sensitive lyric, "I wouldn't wanna change your mind / without your heart," then undercuts the sentimentality with references to silly clowns and sanctifying swine. This pattern continues throughout The Grundles' lyrics, which tend to be more freewheeling than sincere. Lead guitarist/vocalist Andrew Dolan is a self-proclaimed weirdo on "Freakshow": "Look at me, I'm a freak / won't you put me on TV?" Of course, he demonstrates that he's a sensitive sort of freak; what self-respecting lady wouldn't be touched by lyrics like "I don't got much to give / but I'll serve up free will / now that she's on the pill." (from "White Trash Blues")

The Grundles are game for occasional experiments as well. They veer away from standard pop-punk refrains on the hoe-down track "Crazy On My Mind"; over a melody that evokes visions of line dancing with MGDs in hand, Dolan ironically croons, "Tried so many times to live without me / somehow you thought it would make you more refined." Another highlight, the bouncy, punk/ska-infused "Turnaround", exchanges the MGDs for an evening in which the band members drink their age in pints.

While subtlety certainly isn't The Grundles' strong suit, they at least get within sight of it with the delicately structured "Nothing Goes As Planned". It's a bit more uptempo a song than Bright Eyes might have written, and Dolan even adopts an unnerving tenor similar to Mr. Oberst's, but the brief similarity is pretty clearly an aberration. The Grundles would never want to be considered in the same camp as Oberst, and if they had written an album called Letting Off The Happiness, you can be certain the title's meaning would have been altogether different.

The Grundles walk a thin line on Disgrundled, but they have the chops to pull it off, with comic lyrics, playful melodies and a devil-may-care attitude. Their pop-punk pokes fun at everyone: themselves, freaks, white trash, pigs, clowns, your boyfriend and you. Most importantly, though, they make you feel as if everyone is welcome to be in on their joke.