You might be tempted to group this band with current top-40 alt-rock darlings Fallout Boy and Panic At The Disco, but Domo is more clever (and less aggresively and slavishly fashionable) than either of these bands. But the comparison is not altogether without merit; Domo writes hooky melodies, and stacks one on top of the other, a dozen or so to a song. Domo takes the more-is-more approach to pop songwriting, and succeeds admirably with it. The rhythm section is tighter than the gunwale clearances of the USS Nimitz squeaking through the Panama Canal. And Domo continues to employ T-Rex-style guitarmonies and tasteful keyboard interludes where necessary. The lyrics engage in intricate rhyme schemes that would make Rakim or Mos Def shiver, and on the closing track for 'Baby Mercury', they rival This Year's Model for sheer vitriol, no mean feat. On the surface, Domo is a powerpop band that ought to feel at home on modern-rock (or active rock, or alt rock, or whatever the f*** they call it these days) radio. But dig a little deeper and you find sugar-sweet harmonies that would be at home on a Jimmy Eat World record, singable guitar solos straight off Boston's first record, and an attention to detail in production and arrangement that would impress Steely Dan. And yet Domo distills an original voice from this melange of influences by tempering frenetic rock and roll enthusiasm with wit and intelligence.