You know how there is some music that can remind you of a certain time and place? Maybe it is the song that played when you got your first kiss. Or it could be the album that got played over and over on the long road trip that summer just after college when the world seemed to roll out before you. There are a thousand songs that have that special meaning for me, that bring memories fresh into my senses like I am there again. Well, I'm beginning to think that there is some music that is destined to find you at certain times, and sometimes that music is too late.

I obtained Lust, Lust, Lust on a whim, because I liked the name of the band. The Raveonettes - it sounds like some old Motown group that has long since been forgotten about, lost in the long senses of time. That seems to be the point too, as the vocals are all 50s and 60s pop and the hooks are simple jangles from rock's early days. But this is not some slick nostalgic trip. No, it's a fully realized modern record too, full of indie fuzz, and hip distortion.

It's as if the Supremes had a crack baby with the Everly Brothers that could sing like an angel but had the devil inside.

It is that latter part that brings me to my new theory, that the Raveonettes missed their chance to enthrall me by about a decade and a half. Lust, Lust, Lust is an album I would have loved in high school or my early days in college. It is an album made for lonely college kids growing their hair long to hide their acne, while they lounge, angst filled in their oily flannel shirts dreaming of sunnier days through dark glasses.

On songs like “You Want the Candy” I find myself bobbing along to the bright pop sounds. Yet like a cranky old man, I can't help but want to shout at the kids to “turn that racket down.” It is that weird juxtaposition – sugar coated, jangle pop mixed with fuzzy guitars and distorted noise – that the album lives in. It is like they wrote these perfect melodies and turned them on their side just to get them a little dirty.