The power pop scene that cropped up in LA during the late ‘70s and persisted through the middle of the following decade developed alongside a reemergence of ‘60s psych. The intertwined interests of groups in either genre served to cross pollinate bands with ideas that might not have occurred to either adherent. It can’t be said that there was a huge commercial aspect to this all – even if there could and should have been.

The Paisley Underground stuff that was turning up left and right incorporated the druggy schtick that its forebears trucked in. And while the power pop groups worked to incorporate some of the ‘60s stuff from the Kinks and others, there was a hint of punk to the whole thing that should have resulted in some more mainstream media attention. That wasn’t the case, though. Groups like the Cars or the Waitresses made a name for themselves hailing from other parts of the country. And of course the Knack made a few bucks, but Vitus Matare, John Frank and the brothers Nolte – Joe, Mike and David –  who constituted the Last cranked out some work on par with its more famous cohort, but took the independent route.

Releasing a single on its own imprint, the Last didn’t gain a huge following. And even under the auspices of Bomp! Records, which released the group’s first long player L.A. Explosion, fame wasn’t around the corner. Working with Greg Shaw, Bomp!’s label honcho, allowed the band a specific audience ready to respond in positive terms to the release – with good reason as well.

L.A. Explosion saw re-release within the past few years. And even if the Last’s cult hasn’t really grown as a result, the album still comes off as a strong disc that took into consideration a swath of influence and approaches to rock and or roll.

The Nolte’s and company often find themselves compared to the UK’s Buzzocks. And while that isn’t invalid, the Buzzcocks never got as sugary sweet as the LA band. By contrast, though, the Last occasionally sounded tougher than that band from across the pond. “Walk Like Me” begins with some dusty trail styled cowboy stuffs and slight vocals with too much pretend Britishism inserted. Soon enough the track shifts gear and moves into a tempo befitting anyone from the local punk scene. Nolte’s vocals get more snotty and gravelly as the track goes on even while the backing vocals lend a bit of sugar to it all. It’s not a straight punk song, but nothing that the Last worked out were all one specific thing.

Even the pop of “Every Summer Day” with and early Byrds feel gets all aggressive like by the half way mark. It all makes L.A. Explosion something of a confusing listen. If it’s unadulterated pop that listeners want, it might be found on other discs more easily. If nothing else, we should have all figured that this was going to be a weird amalgam of musics based solely upon the picture of the band from the cover of the disc.