As much as my music taste has leaned toward various forms of post-hardcore and indie rock, my taste has expanded over the years. I’m not quite a religious listener when it comes to whatever you call the amalgamation of post-punk, synth pop, and 80s revival, but it’s one of those genres that weirdly has stuck with me well. Maybe it’s the fake sense of nostalgia or the balance of synths and guitars or just a general cinematic feeling that fills those types of songs.

Night Traveler has been one of those standout acts for me. Their debut record was full of instant classics like “Put Your Money on Me,” “Bad Enough,” and “Burn.” Hotspot continues in the same vein, mixing similar elements of The Killers, Fleetwood Mac, Richard Edwards, and maybe even a little bit of Ryan Adams. While it’d be somewhat sufficient to just call it retro-flavored indie, it’s clear that Night Traveler borrow elements of folk, Americana, and arena rock. Peel back the drum machines and dial down the reverb and you’ve got something that looks a lot closer to down-to-earth ballads. But it’s in the layers and extra ornamentation where the songs take ascent and truly find their space. Somehow, there’s an essence of the 80s and 00s all at once, and it never feels strange.

Like much of Night Traveler’s discography, the lyrics aren’t exactly a puzzle. These are love songs, and, poetic as they might be, don’t exactly give me a ton to dig into. There is no huge concept, no winding motifs that unravel unexpectedly. But do I care? No. The lyrics here are more of a mental paintbrush, showing pictures of neon signs, late-night adventures, old cars, and love that feel vibrant. Even when the band doesn’t spell things out clearly, the album artwork, titles, and the entire collective conscious associated with this type of music manages to fill in the blanks: blues and oranges, sunsets and motels, diners and highways.

One of Hotspot‘s biggest strengths is its consistency. That’s not to say it doesn’t have its highlight tracks, but its low points are compressed and evened out. “Honey,” for instance, doesn’t particularly strike me as a favorite, but I’m not compelled to skip it, either. The spread of highlights is pretty broad, too, with “Love Nobody Else” and “Don’t Go Dark” serving as two highlights from the front end and “Vampires” and “Damage” helping balance out the end. The vocals are soft, interlaced with intermittent falsetto highs, and it gives the entire album a tender and endearing mood. It’s urban where it needs to be, simple and folksy in perhaps a quiter and less obvious manner. There are meandering guitar solos and crescendo builds, all still somehow restrained. But this is the kind of album that doesn’t take too much brain power to accept it’s good and fun. It’s an experiential type of listening experience, one that isn’t too demanding.

There’s certainly no sophomore slump on this release. I’d argue it even manages to surpass its predecessor by augmenting the strong areas and carefully avoiding any pitfall tracks. Maybe I won’t be stuck on Genius annotating the lyrics for hours, but maybe it’s better that I don’t need to. Night Traveler once again offer audiences an album that’s accessible, emotional, and visual in its content. You should probably check it out.