Last weekend I installed a toilet. For the uninitiated, it's not a miserable job, but neither is it nearly as much fun as, say, using one. As I was wrapped around my new buddy, straining to tighten impossibly placed screws, Yo La Tengo kept me going with its covers of some '80s gems, including "Somebody's Baby," which those of a certain quickly-ripening age will recall as the theme to the deflowering of Jennifer Jason Leigh in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Perhaps it was the sewer fumes, but for the first time since I was sixteen, unadulterated pop music pap really resonated with me -- so much so that I forgot the unsavory position I was in. "Damn," I thought, "why can't more bands today pull these little miracles off?"

Then along comes Silkworm. Yes, this Chicago outfit has been a mainstay on college stations for years, and perhaps their sound isn't revolutionary or ever-changing like Yo La Tengo's, but their blend of fuzzed-out, stumbling bass with crunchy guitars and stuck-in-our-head lyrics captures a little something that I haven't heard in a long while -- something akin to the shameless pop of the '80s. In "Treat the New Guy Right," the band delivers a slight, earnest tune whose catchy riff and chanted chorus evoke a wonderfully trashy, ever-innocent Nicholas Cage or Molly Ringwold coming-of-age flick that was never made. It's reminiscent yet not entirely familiar, as if the successes of Silkworm's forefathers hadn't been recycled but stripped, souped up and reassembled into a delicious new combo.

With "Plain", Silkworm recalls another '80s powerhouse, though an under appreciated one: Glass Eye. This Austin foursome made a small splash with its napalm bass pushed through a rattling Sears amp, plinky guitar lines and lyrics relishing the mundane. Likewise, Silkworm takes these simple elements and merges them with such skill that you can't help but be sucked in. Unlike so many other bands that blast you with all they've got from the get-go, Silkworm masterfully plays with the tension and release of each song, entwining you in delightful anticipation and freeing you with a satisfying lick or lyric, only to take you back into their hands for the next round. These folks know damn well where they're taking the songs, and, if you close your eyes, you'll go there with them. It's a beautiful thing to be swept away like that -- so wondrous it can make you forget everything around you, toilets and all.