This is one difficult second album, alright. Midnight Remember marks the end of a chapter in the life of Little Red, a chapter in which derivative '50s and '60s doo-wop prevailed, a chapter in which songs like "Coca Cola" and "Witchdoctors" ruled playfully, a chapter in which bobble-headed drummer Taka Honda could grin from ear to ear. In exploring their latest release, you’d best put all of the above behind you. Midnight Remember is a display of songwriting maturity, a calculated product of a band finding their feet as musicians, as well as people. Unfortunately, much of what worked for Little Red has been wrung out in the wash, and the record suffers as a result.

Right from the outset, the album presents drastic departure from the raw, rough-edged offerings of its predecessor, a deliberate hi-fi evolution, transporting Little Red into the present. Immediately, it pits the band in competition with a variety of other outfits professing that slick contemporary recipe for success. The production of Midnight Remember is glossy, sonically glamorous, bursting and bristling with life and crisp energy. 

But in taking such a tact, they’ve ignored an array of crucial components for which they’re best known. There’s something so uptight and concentrated about their efforts here, something so sharply in contrast to those dizzying highs and unequaled joys of their renowned live performances. Their carefree, fun-filled past has been left to gather dust, Little Red instead opting for a painfully serious record, backed by serious musicianship. It’s almost too polished, too perfect, and that special charm that once surrounded Little Red fails to co-exist with such precision. Hooks and basic pop-sensibilities stripped back to their core are traded in for complex, cluttered arrangements that more often than not fail to be compelling in a grandiose, yet timid, dismissible result.

Fans will show some forgiveness towards Midnight Remember, with tracks such as the uber-anthem "Rock It" and the epic spaghetti-western "Place Called Love" recalling their memorable, melodic best. The funky "Forget About Your Man" also succeeds in recapturing a certain formula. But the rest of the songs featured are nowhere near as immediate, and never hold the promise of introducing themselves in the long run.

Mostly, this doesn’t feel like a Little Red record. There are some redeeming features, but at the same time this isn’t going to be what anybody expected of the band. They've lost something along the way. Nobody would begrudge them for wanting to take a giant leap forward - in fact, they would have almost certainly been criticized for playing it safe - but it’s one big strained idea, forced much like an ill-fitting garment: it’s nice enough, but ultimately it just can’t be worn.

Review Score: 6.5 / 10