In the kingdom of emo, a second record from any band has become something of a rare occurrence. The current trend seems to be put out one record, tour, disband, then form three new bands, all of whom boast about having ex-members of said band. What’s the reason for this trend? Fear of the sophomore slump? Inter-band conflicts? Bad hair days? Who knows. Regardless, most bands enter into, then bow out of the scene in less time than it took studio execs to realize that The Chevy Chase Show was a horrible idea.

In this era of disposable bands, we need to be especially thankful for groups like Jets to Brazil. JtB have not only released their second album, Four Cornered Night, but have overcome the proverbial sophomore slump by maturing and growing together as a band, delivering an album that is more poised and more elegant than their debut. The snotty, disjointed tone of Orange Rhyming Dictionary is gone; in its place, the band has crafted a more refined, unabashedly pop sound. Four Cornered Night owes as much to Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach as it does to Fugazi or Hüsker Dü. It's an album on which swaying piano-led ballads like "In the Summer’s When You Really Know" split time with full-throttle sonic assaults like "Milk and Apples" or "Mid-Day Anonymous". It's an album whose shining moment is a near-AOR ballad in which the lead singer professes his love for everybody and his mother.

Blake Schwarzenbach’s wry-yet-sensitive vocal stylings and ear for a sharp hook continue to anchor the sound. Shedding the layers of blustering power chords and shrieking feedback that plagued their debut has proved to be the best thing JtB could ever have done.

Four Cornered Night leaves Jets to Brazil poised on the cusp of a great career. Exactly how far they go is entirely up to them. So much for that "difficult" second album theory.