I could line the perimeter of my apartment with albums like Sing Along with Acid House Kings -- good albums, too. What Sweden's Acid House Kings do -- ably write and play bookish, sensitive melodic rock songs with acute pop sensibilities -- isn't exotic. Practically every sizeable indie label (and even a number of majors) has kept at least a band or two like them on their rosters over the last fifteen years. Pick any release from the Parasol, Shelflife or Sarah catalogues and you'll hear the same style of music executed with similar spirit and results. Browse your local indie record store's used bin and -- well, you get the picture. You've heard Sing Along with before, even if you haven't heard either of the Kings' previous two albums. However, that doesn't mean that you shouldn't take the time to hear it again.

In a field of indie rock so heavily populated that even releasing a quality listen-frontwards-and-backwards album isn't enough to distinguish yourself, the Kings stand out vividly without breaking (or even stretching) a single mold. As musicians and arrangers, they succeed through their clarity and careful articulation. The album's songwriting and mixing create lots of space in each track, allowing every acoustic guitar strum, vocal harmony and keyboard plink to stand solidly and distinctly -- rather than just adding more noise to an overcrowded scene, the Kings create an environment in which you're invited to hear every note and to let each one marinate.

The songs progress as fluidly as they're arranged. Verse/chorus/verse/chorus is the order of the day, and every passage is memorable and concise, with no part of any song taking precedence of the parts surrounding it. The album's evenness and listenability make it easy to fall for quickly, and separate it from the Kings' less economical guitar pop peers.

At first it seems as though the band peg their art in "I Write Summer Songs for No Reason": "You know I write summer songs for no reason / But to make you smile ... / But to take your mind off worldly things." It's difficult to believe opener "That's Because You Love Me"'s narrator when she sings about someone "It takes a lot of walking / To get to know," because the entire album feels like a pleasant stroll through oft-traversed territory. As we spend more time walking with the band, though, a unified lyrical aesthetic emerges, and though it's by no means revelatory, it certainly asks us to consider the album as a unique world, or at least a singular perspective on a familiar world. The Kings frequently juxtapose feathery acoustic or pristine electric pop with frigid gusts of reality. "London School of Economics" waxes nostalgic about college days, but catches itself before fully aestheticizing the good ol' days: "We look the way we always did before ... I never said it was better or worse." "Will You Love Me in the Morning?" questions whether two characters' love will survive depressing Mondays, circles under the eyes and inevitable quarrels. By locating these potential bummers in the hypothetical future, though, the song places the events themselves outside of the album; here, as on the rest of Sing Along with, the outlook's never too bleak, with all anxieties and worries existing solely in the mind. By confining life's cruelties to the psychological realm, the Kings open up the possibility of thinking positively and looking on the bright side. Their optimism never consists of contrived sentiment, though; instead it rests in their ability to defeat harsh affronts with the humbling truth ("They say your middle name is trouble / But I know it's Caroline").

Providing thought-provoking, readable pop music is all that most listeners would ask of an artist like the Kings, but purebred subversionists might argue that, for all of its good points, Sing Along with is ultimately reactionary in its willingness to conform to expectations, high as those expectations may be. The band already seems aware of this potential criticism, though; they focus their narratives on what appear to be college kids and the middle class and make no awkward attempts to assert themselves as a "rocking" group. When an album comes packaged with a DVD featuring karaoke versions of its songs, it already throws out all pretense of being anything more than a luxury item for privileged leisure. If you're cool with admitting that that's exactly what you are, then you'll soon find yourself doing just what the album title tells you to.