In today’s increasingly ephemeral rock n roll roll-out, there’s not much that defines a generation’s mentality more perfectly than a two-piece grungy outfit that sounds like many more, sings with clarity about (what else?) the rigors of being in a band, and teeters on the edge of the emo and introspective.

PS I Love You’s sophomore effort, Death Dreams, manages to hit all of these marks. Its saw-like guitar riffs are, if nothing else, big. Big as lead singer Paul Saulnier’s 250+ pound body can shred them. Unfortunately, only as big as they were on their debut, Meet Me at the Muster Station.

It’s not for lack of trying. The PS I Love You sound is still there with Saulnier’s wail still pounding out introspective and somehow still resigned lyrics like on “Future Dontcare”’s, “I wish this summer was like last summer/ Love doesn’t care about the future.” Those lines, actually, might be the faltering point of Death Dreams. There was a point where the band felt an upswing, but it’s been crushed once again. PS I Love You experienced success with Muster Station, toured the record outside of their home in Canada, but probably failed to garner enough income to truly leap into another economic class.

Not like an indie hit should snag every post-rock band a McMansion, but it seems to have failed to allot the band the ability to invest in or produce this new record any differently than previously. A plus if you dug Muster Station and The Japandroids, a minus if you’re concerned with artistic progression.

That said, I’m not concerned. It’s with brutal honesty that PS I Love You leads a listener through a series of seemingly banal lyrical situations coupled with anthemic riffs and a rhythm section that is more akin to a semi than a drum kit. These banal lyrics take new form, most emphatically on standout tracks like “Sentimental Dishes” with the lines, “I don’t wanna do the dishes/You don’t wanna do the dishes!” Sophomoric, yes. So is the rest of this album. In the greater context of the song, the song in the greater context of the album, it’s more a cry out about an impending meltdown. It’s Chekov’s gun, that thing’s gonna go off.

And as much as it sounds like something I’ve heard before, that gun is pretty damn rad.