In today’s world of emo-rock, it can seem that everyone is a victim. Concept albums explore the despair of failed relationships, painstakingly removing the instruments of de-humanization from the hard-hearted ex-girlfriend’s toolbox and examining them one by one. Diatribes on the smothering effect of society abound. And even if bands aren’t lyrically wounded, they can fall victim to that particularly brutal monster, formulaic musical sterility.

In their second full-length, The New Romance, emo-punk stalwarts Pretty Girls Make Graves again display what makes them a blip on the indie radar: the sometimes grating, resoundingly girlish vocals of front woman Andrea Zollo, as well as intricate, inventive musicianship.

If PGMG’s debut album, Good Health, was all energy—it pounds out 8 urgent tracks in 27 minutes—The New Romance allows opportunity for the band to catch their breath. The first track, “Something Bigger, Something Brighter,” eventually achieves the layered density typical of Good Health, but builds deliberately from a stark drum intro. Hand claps replace the drum kit in the spacious, organ-driven bridge, and Zollo’s vocals tease. Still, while The New Romance introduces a pop sensibility to the band’s sound, the biting tag-team guitar work and inventive drumming remain the focal point. On the stand-out “Chemical, Chemical,” the

guitars scream against an effectively simple descending bass line.

Conceptually, PGMG try to move beyond cathartic, yet ultimately unproductive self-victimizations. Sure, sour relationships demoralize us and the automated world can crush our spirit. The New Romance explores how we choose to react to our feelings of impotence within a society gone wrong. “All Medicated Geniuses” criticizes the tendency to demonstrate our dissent in simplistic, symbolic acts rather than in meaningful ways that require sacrifice. “All motivations out to sea/And our ideas die so quickly,” Zollo sings. “Better to stew in discontent/than to admit we’re wrong.” Still, PGMG’s songwriting obviously lags behind their musicianship. On the otherwise elegant “Blue Lights,” one wishes that Zollo’s simple-minded sentiments about the impulse to hide from the world were not so prominently mixed.

The album’s closing prescription is that a satisfying life exists in the mini-universes we create with like-minded others, in which we are able ultimately to stay true to ourselves. “Lets get old together/make promises and lie,” Zollo pleads, “but never let this city/get the best of us.”