Grace Potter & the Nocturnals’ may not have made this summer’s greatest album, but it is downright good listening. What makes the band’s sixth album a lightweight contender to be reckoned with is the atmosphere it surrounds its listener with.

Once the musical vibes slink down to your ear drums, you are there: summer air at night, dancing barefoot with a beer in one hand and your best friend’s hand in the other. Each line, each riff screams good times. Potter’s voice has an edginess that most female rockers would kill for.

The modelesque blonde has more soul than a Mississippi worship service, and to say that almost every line out of her mouth is downright sexy would be far from ridiculous. The album’s downfall is that it doesn’t exactly preach poetry. However, they are salvaged by the sort of legendary vintage rock that sounds like it is destined to end with some tragic overdose or plane crash.

The best tracks are the ones that sound like they were spun straight off a 1970’s vinyl. Medicine, Paris (Ooh La La) and That Phone are the absolute best of these, and are very worth your listening time.