Pictured: Hospital Ships’ Jordan Geiger with big-head cheat code on.

Songwriter Jordan Geiger is (un)known for his writing and singing in Minus Story, and recently for his trumpeting in the band Shearwater. With his new project, Hospital Ships, Geiger steps into his own even more.

The creativity that flows through Oh, Ramona is similar to that heard from Islands. The layers and layers of nasally vocals are nearly the same at times, and songs use heaps of keyboards and organs on top of less dense guitars. Where Islands has a flare for the silly and overly dramatic, Hospital Ships manages to stay a bit more low key and straightforward, making them slightly less difficult to relate to at times. That’s not to say that songs like Bitter Radio Single and I Want It to Get Out are anti-climatic though, as most of the album works by building up to giant choruses of overlapping parts and colorfully laid vocals.

Hospital Ships - Bitter Radio Single

Geiger hits it perfectly on Bitter Radio Single. “Screw this fucking city,” in the bridge explodes into the song’s ending.

Pictured: The band was doing just fine until Steve Nash showed up on keys(far right), wearing his favorite collared shirt and that damned howling wolf tank top again.

Let’s be honest, I’m a sucker for songs with lots of bells, and Deleted Scenes carves itself around them on the song Ithaca. I know what you’re thinking, but really, this is a good rock band and there’s no cutesy toy xylophone ridiculousness involved. Instead, a constant tonal ringing is a frame for the band’s somewhat afro-cussion, bright, accommodating guitar melodies and Menomena-esque double-vocal lines(ehh, two posts in a row with mentions of Manenema?). They get themselves worked up every once in a while, but for the most part my beloved bells keep Deleted Scenes in a sleepy, laid-back and lovable sort of mindset. Plus, one look at their Myspace page, equipped with small tour dates, cheap EPs and mega-appreciation for slowly growing press, and it’s hard not to root for guys like these.

Deleted Scenes - Ithaca

Click, click, click.

Pictured:  Lackthereof asks not indie-rock-weirdies can do for you, but what you can do for indie-rock-weirdies.
Lackthereof is an awesome project from Danny Seim (Menomena).  It sounds sort of like what Primitive Radio Gods would sound like if they were still around, and not just a one hit wonders from the mid-nineties.  There’s bass heavy, drum heavy, mid-tempo jams with bittersweet melodies all wrapped around some sing-song melodies that make you shake your sarcasm-hardened groove thang.  Yes, thang.

There’s a close enough tie between Lackthereof and Menomena to occasionally get a “Oh yeah, he was in THAT band” moment, but enough of a distance to give Lackthereof an identity all its own.  Anyway, Lackthereof is on Barsuk now, which will hopefully get Seim the attention he so desperately deserves.  At last count there were something like 1100 friends on his myspace.  I routinely get adds from fat kids playing sevendust covers with more friends than that.  C’mon America let’s get with the program.

Last November is the best track on Lackthereof’s new album, Your Anchor.  It bounces along with minimal bass and organ until the end of the song, when we get some relative explosiveness (and even a key change).  Anyway, find this album if you get the chance.  It goes great with a pog collection and a half liter of Surge.

Lackthereof - Last November

Pictured:  Everest.  Stealing the souls of hitchhikers since 2005.
Everest is an alt-country band from California.  They sound like what would happen if Michael Stipe took over The Cardinals and got a severe case of catchy-awesome-hook syndrome.  It’s all there, the build ups, the sweet melodies, the twangy guitar, and the organ.  I have a feeling this album is only going to get better as we approach the melancholy months of Fall, but even as it stands now, I can’t get enough.  There’s something to be said for a band that doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but does something that’s been done before in such a novel concept that it seems fresh and new.  I don’t know how deft of a sentence that is, but it’s heartfelt.

Rebels in the Roses is the heartbeat of Everest’s record.  It is all crashing guitars, melodrama, and heart fluttering tremolo.  Everest never loses sight of the goal of music, to make you feel things more deeply than previously thought possible.  You might crinkle your nose at the idea, but Everest takes your crinkle and busts right through it.  Seriously, just listen to the bridge and I won’t have to explain.  Good job California, you finally gave me an emotion besides “happy” and “excited about surfing.”

Everest - Rebels In The Roses

Pictured: Sing, scream, repeat.
Justin Vernon is one bad-ass dude. He grows beards, he pushes people around in the post, and he writes records that everyone loves and wants to buy. That’s a big three for three. This is from an album he did before the glory (but when he was still pushing people around in the post.) Vernon recorded and released this in Eau Claire back before Deyarmond moved to Raleigh.

It’s funny how much this bridges the gap between Deyarmond, both musically and ideologically. There is still the same loneliness, the same isolation that so many people have come to relate with Justin’s current work, but there’s still something folky and earthy about the Hazeltons recording as well. This is Justin stripping down, calling us out, and getting out before anything hits the fan. Oh, and the music is unstoppable too. That helps.

It’s pretty hard to find this recording, but if by magic you find it, immediately pick it up. It’s not only a portrait of the artist as a young man, but a portrait of the rest of us too. Sheesh, who knows what I’m saying anymore. Just listen.
Justin Vernon - Hazelton

Pictured: We usually only wear two piece suits when doing the show. Shorts count as one “piece.”
Hey guys, we’re almost one year into doing our radio show. It has been a fun ride thus far, filled with good music (that andy picks) and ok music (that I usually pick). We’ve gotten yelled at by an old man, done interviews with some local music scene movers and shakers, and generally made all sorts of musical chaos. There may have been some Randy Newman in there too.

Anyway, this is just to let you know that the show still goes on. If you live in the Eau Claire area, you can catch it at 96.3 WHYS from the 9-10pm slot. If you don’t live around us, you can stream it online for free at www.whysradio.org (same time). We’ve been promising an archive of old shows (of which we have a bunch) for a long, long time now. We can’t talk in certainties, but it looks like we’ll have something cool lined up with Volume One (the magazine Andy and I write for) very soon. Until then, we may put some up, we may not. It’s all sort of up in the air. No radio pun intended.

Anyway, we appreciate whenever you listen/read/whatever. Thanks, and let’s make it another year.

Pictured:  White Hinterland can play your next “brown out” party.  
White Hinterland recently played a living room in Eau Claire at our friend’s house.  It was, in one word, incredible.  In two words it would be, “incredibly awesome”, or maybe, “damn dude!”  Anyway, they put on a helluva show.  We wanted to take a video of it for the website, but unfortunately for us they play in almost total darkness.  We could have turned our night vision on, but did you really want to watch concert footage that looks like a Paris Hilton sex tape?  We didn’t think so.

Anyway, here’s the next best thing, a track from White Hinterland’s newest album, Phylactery Factory, “Dreaming of the Plum Trees.”  The track sort of sways back and forth in the breeze, like a Jobim fever dream.  The piano jolts and jives and generally creates perfect summer noise while lead singer, Casey Dienel cutes her way through a song about people buying cigarette boats and running around in bare feet.  Yeah, I know, someone wrote ANOTHER song about buying a cigarette boat.

I feel like the less I say about this, the better.  Just listen on your ipod, stereo, or whatever with your feet up and your nose in freshly cut grass.  It’s what life is all about.

White Hinterland - Dreaming of the Plum Trees

Pictured: Geri X may, in fact, be rocking a six string bass. I’m not sure, I sort of lost count after four. Anyway, another Peervalidated first!
Geri X is another great band that we played with on tour. If I’m honest with myself (which I think is the best policy for all the parties involved), I would say that I was a bit *ahem* skeptical when I heard their band name, which sounded to me more like an X-Man from the mid nineties than a typical indie-folk rock bard. Luckily for me (and you) I was wrong.

Geri X sounds like what Regina Spektor and Fiona Apple would sound like if they had a magical baby that they raised with a profound hope in the human race. Geri’s vocals tilt and lilt along the backdrop of organs, acoustic guitars, and good old fashioned hand claps. She alternates between songs about hopeful love and the end of the world. This dichotomy might seem a bit odd on paper, but it works out in the best possible way.

“3,000 Lines of Defense” is the opener on their record, Anthems of a Broken Heart. Sounds like a Portishead folk song. Yeah, weird. Anyway, if you like this sort of thing (and who doesn’t, really?) than this is for you. Yes, you. Check out their ambitious tour schedule to see when they’ll be playing around your little ear drums.

Geri X - 3,000 Lines Of Defense

Pictured: Daredevil is ready for some quality D&D. Hope you brought Cooler Ranch.
As you may or may not know, Kyle and I play in a band called Laarks. We recently went on a tour with the very incredible, “The Daredevil Christopher Wright”. I know it probably isn’t proper to put their name in quotation marks, but it seemed like there were a lot of “the”s in a row without it. Anyway, this comes from an EP that they put out in support of their most recent tour. Every one of them was hand painted and came with a mis-labeled mp3 tag. The former was probably intended, the second was probably not.

Anyway, this EP is solid stuff. The first track is from their forth coming EP, a cute little mid-tempo song about a brother moving to the east coast. It is titled (appropriately enough), “The East Coast”. This is not the song we are posting. Look for it soon. I’ve heard the whole album, and it kills me a little bit everyday that I can’t put it up on here.

The next track is a 7 minute epic that has some of the weirdest, greatest harmonies I’ve heard from a band in a long time. We aren’t posting that one either.

“Ian,” you are saying with the knowing smile of an older sibling, “What could you possibly be putting up? What could possibly be as great as those other songs?” Well, let me tell you, friend. “Old Time Love Songs” is a beautiful, short, little gem that manages to unlock that part of your brain that says, “Ah yes, there it is. THAT is what I’ve been looking for.” There is organ, there is guitar, there isn’t really any drums. It’s virtually perfect. The low-fi recording (the band did it themselves on a ratty old laptop) only adds to the charm. Do yourself a favor and check it out before they blow up big-time. We’re talking, “Grey’s Anatomy” big.

The Daredevil Christopher Wright - Old Time Love Songs

Pictured: Murdocks only travel one-by-one, in a straight line. Buddy-system style.

I want to drink beer with this band, and I want to be as loud and reckless as they are when I do it. I want to be sloppy drunk while we parade around town and spit in the face of the whole damn thing. It doesn’t need to be the weekend. It could be Tuesday. It could be noon. That way we’d be more out of place and cause more of a disturbance.

Something about the Murdocks’ album Roar! makes me feel this way. It’s a blaze of indie-rock gone pop-punk, full of simple power chords and nasally hooks, plenty of vocal lines involving meaningless sounds like “hey,” and “la.” This is pop-punk that kids who grew out of pop-punk long ago can still get excited for. Also, the album cover is pink and has a yellow Tyrannosaurus Rex on it. Awesome.

Murdocks - Playhouse Down

Playhouse Down is a fan fave, as in, I’m a fan and it is my fave.

It seems a little bit bandwagon to tout an album that has been in Paste, but I knew it first, so this is my call for cred. Doug’s Burr’s On Promenade was released last year by a small label in California, Velvet Blue Music. VBM is sort of my go to label. Because of gems like the initial release of Richard Swift’s The Novelist, Frank Lenz’s Conquest Slaughter, and LN’s Novel, when adequately financed, I will buy most anything they do. At this point it is safe to mention On Promenade in the same breath as any of the amazing albums put out by this definitionally independent label. Also, I obscenity in the milk of cred.
Doug Burr is what country music should be. He should be headlining Country Jam/Fest with Okkervil River, Songs:Ohia, Sixteen Horsepower, and Willie Nelson. Unfortunately, popular country and western music has become a purgatorial reflection of top forty radio pop, embracing all of the inherent flaws and mediocrity of music that has current mass appeal. There isn’t really a profitable place for songs of this sort. Songs that are important. For shame.
Burr’s writing can be both ominous and hopeful. Vivid descriptions of dreams and letters from painters are paired with lush instrumentation atypical of the sometimes austere alt-country genre. The album has a well crafted ebb and flow of tempo and mood making repeat listens genuinely enjoyable.
‘How Can The Lark (My Dear Theo)’ is presented as a letter from an aforementioned painter to his brother, a correspondence of love and pain and compulsion. The guitar swell at the end of the first verse may be my favorite moment in any of his songs, so pay attention. The song will leave you, the listener, hanging a bit as it fades absolutely perfectly into the next song. You’ll have to buy it or come over to my house to hear it in context. Open invite.

Doug Burr - How Can The Lark (My Dear Theo)

Pictured: Carl Spidla. Reinforcing every indie-kid stereotype in one photo. If only it were a polaroid.

My least favorite part about writing for Peer Validated is that more often than not I have to find music on other blogs before I can post it. Basically, I have to steal from other sites, and I feel really bad about it. Sometimes I can convince myself that it’s worth it, mostly when what I’m stealing is really, really good, like re-posting something that was once completely original isn’t half as bad as keeping it to myself. This live recording of Carl Spidla’s Blackfly Rag, originally posted on my very favorite site, Saidthegramophone.com, is that kind of thing.

The rolling, finger-picked song, both smooth and ragged in the same way that Devendra Banhart can be at times, the roomy recording, leaving every breath and foot shuffle, every creaking chair, Spidla’s wise, caring voice and domestically conflicted lyrics, “I pretend to be myself and you pretend to be the woman I love. My whole heart is coming apart at the place it meets…,” are all just too good to not post…again.

Carl Spidla - Blackfly Rag

This song helps me enjoy my summer nights. This song and patio furniture. And rum.

The name of this band puts me off, but their name is the only thing that puts me off about the French Kicks. There is not a song I would skip on their new disc, but for now I will focus on “Love in the Ruins”, which is great in context or as a standalone, or an introduction to the French Kicks. I guess that’s called a single.

Is that a ukulele in the beginning? Whatever it is, I like it because it’s misleading. Kind of a switcheroo the Kicks are pulling on us. “Love in the Ruins” is not a fast song by most standards, but it does move along at a pace that I didn’t expect upon hearing the opening chords. Which is weird, because the tempo doesn’t actually change at all. Music.

The bass part comes in halfway through the verse and is just sexy. When I flipped through the liner notes for Swimming, I noticed that they thank the Walkmen. I can hear that Brooklyn stuff in the bass track. Surely I’m not the only one who lumped all those Brooklyn bands together and got sick of all of them at the same time, but the French Kicks are breathing new life into the scene. It’s not annoying to me anymore.

The chorus, the chorus. The chorus represents the thing I love most about this band: laziness. The vocal tracks just sound so lazy and slurred and it’s fantastic. They really have the loose-feel thing down to a science. Which is weird, because it’s like a paradox… right?

One more thing I would like to note is the verse that cuts the bass out again. There a lot of moments on the record that work because of spaces, silences, subtractions. This is one of them. So good.

French Kicks - Love In The Ruins

Go to the French Kicks’ , or their MySpace.

Video: Just The Small Cities being The Small Cities.

As previously posted, these doods are pretty durn good. “They sound like David Bazan and Low blowing apart your hollow construct of reality,” said we. The Small Cities deliver the full experience live, making epic narrations look easier and more flawless each time they play. The footage can only portray so much of it, but this threesome can completely fill a room with surprisingly large sounds. And, of course, we fully appreciate a band that can hold its own with witty on-stage banter.

Do the myspace thing to hear more of their songs and catch a show.

Frightened Rabbits are a cool band who plan mid-rockin’ music of the happy variety. Four members, one guitar, one bass, and a whole lot of egg shaker is pretty much the norm on their new single, Head Rolls Off. I don’t want to ruin the video for you, but it takes place in a second grade classroom, so *spoiler alert* cute kid moments abound. Enjoy everybody.

Pictured: Headlights must have reeeeally pissed off Oscar the grouch.
Headlights are a Champagne, Illinois that I could have sworn was British the first time I heard them. Maybe it’s my own prejudice, but when I hear a guy singing sweetly into a microphone while all sorts of cutesy bells and shit go on around him, I just think jolly old England. Is that me being prejudiced? Probably. Am I totally right usually? Undoubtedly. Anyway, that is neither here nor there, Headlights is a fun little diversion of the band that offers plenty of groany alt-country guitars, organ pads, and even the occasional hand clap. (for a while didn’t it look like banjos were going to be the new hand clap in indie rock? What a scary time.)

Headlight’s song, “Market Girl” is the embodiment of all the good things in this genre. It rollicks from the beginning (I don’t use that term lightly) and continues to do so until the end. In between their are string parts, boy and girl vocals, and yes, even hand claps. There is a deep dark fear in my heart that this song will be used for evil, like to advertise Target or Imacs or something, but until then I think we can enjoy this song with clean conscience.

These guys have played with Now, Now Every Children before (a peervalidated favorite), if you get a chance and have a girlfriend (or boyfriend) that loves to do that awkward indie-rock half dance, this is directly up your alley.

Headlights - Market Girl

Pictured: One of the only pictures on I, Torrents myspace. Please let it not be their practice space.
I, Torrent is a local (Eau Clairian) band that kicks out bass heavy, albini-induced rockers. They’ve played a couple of shows around here, most notably opening for Alan Sparhawk’s band du jour, The Retribution Gospel Choir. These guys are all seasoned vets of the EC scene, and it is entirely visible in their live shows, which sound nearly as polished as their new EP.

The track, “She’s an Invisible Ship” stands out in my mind as a testament to what heavy music done right can be. Sean Lau’s vocals growl through the whole sh-bang of chorusy guitars and ultra low bass. I’m still not sure who she is, but evidently she’s one helluva sinkin’ ship. Look for the highlight of the song at the 1:51 mark, which is as good as anything I’ve heard in the past couple of months.

I think that sometimes all of us get caught up in these flavor of the month bands, and forget that there have been people making really quality music for the better part of a decade. It’s sometimes nice to hear what that sounds like, if only for the fact that I someday hope someone listens to something I’ve done. PSYCH. Just kidding, but that got a little heart felt at the end, and we can’t have that.
Look for I, Torrent to play shows in the midwest this summer.

I, Torrent - She’s An Invisible Ship

These guys just played in Vancouver with one of my favorite local bands, Winning. And I didn’t go because I didn’t feel like it. I’m an idiot.

Yes, this song is called “A Tell-Tale Penis”. Oh well.

Some things I like about it:
a) ride cymbal in the verses
b) triple guitar attack
c) “It’s the alaaaarm clock”
d) when the drums cut out after the chorus
e) the ending

Nothing more need be written. Is that a proper sentence? Am I mailing this post in? No. Listen.

Joan Of Arc - A Tell-Tale Penis

Click around Joan of Arc’s website, see them on tour (Maritime date in Milwaukee), and buy Boo! Human.

Pictured: Someone yearns to be loved.

This is a badass playground. Kids chanting and dancing around a burning barrel and bashing it with sticks, one of the bandies fluting and the rest demanding attention and rejecting uneven distributions of power and gender roles. Some principal somewhere made some seriously bad decisions to get to this point of mutiny.

The Do - Playground Hustle

Playground Hustle. Viva revolution.

Really though, Olivia Merilahti and Dan Levy made some seriously good music on The Dø’s debut, A Mouthful. Parts jazz, folk, classic, African beat and mother’s good lovin’ meet in the middle and lounge.

The Do - Stay (Just A Little Bit More)

The song Stay (Just a Little Bit More) is softer and probably a bit more akin to the rest of the album.

Pictured: The Small Cities are all cursed with varying degrees of bedroom eyes.
Hey all, it’s been a long while since I’ve posted on here. I really have no excuse other than the fact that I am a 100% lazy-ass, white bread boy. And the end of the semester was a big welt on my back-side, but who wants to hear that? Anyway, I hope to be posting 3-4 times a week for the rest of the summer; you know, unless lightning strikes or something. Andy is leaving tomorrow for Arizona, so hopefully we can shoot some video and get that up while he’s gone. We wish him the best of luck while on his scorpion eating tour. Sounds great.

Anyway, The Small Cities are a pretty great band from Minneapolis. They sound like David Bazan and Low blowing apart your hollow construct of reality. Oh, and their bass player is pretty durn good too. I can’t really pick which song to pick up, as all of the EP is a pretty good balance of fun and crying. The first track, “This City” is a down tempo crier with wailing guitars and, um, people. The second track, “Fargo” would’ve been on the OC if the OC was still around and set in a small midwestern town with a good sense of melodrama. The guitars are reverby, the drums are driving, just check it out.

These guys have gotten a lot of good press lately. If you are one of our friends who reads this blog and lives in the Twin Cities, be sure to check them out. These are just the tip of the iceberg.

The Small Cities - This City

The Small Cities - Fargo

Pictured: Lau Nau. Recording the first ever musical how-to album for DIY luring enthusiasts everywhere.

Laura Naukkarinen passes 5-minute long songs by like short whispers. Her Finnish words don’t quite register, but I can tell she means well. She probably means to give small secrets about the simplicity of her life. She definitely means to suggest a closer look and deeper appreciation for the natural world, things both big and small and a general blending of them all to create a grasp at understanding. And she’s all shushes and over the shoulder glances when you respond too loudly, like you might give away her favorite secret to someone passing by.

Lau Nau - Lue Kartaltar

Lau Nau just released a new album called Nukuu(Finnish for Sleep) on Locust Music. It’s full of dreamy little wonders like this song, Lue Kartalta.

Pictured: Now, Now Every Children. All pastels and droopy eyes. The way Easter should be.

There are two things we’re head over heals for at PV: really good music and local bands. So, oh my garsh if we can post about local bands making really good music! We like to think of our Minnesotan neighbors locally, especially those who make trips to play for us here in West-Central Wisconsin.

Now, Now Every Children is painfully introspective while taking in far too much of the world surrounding them. Their songs cast stories about complicated family situations or impossible friendships that give very few answers to the many questions they pose. Girly Eisley-like lead vocals ring perfectly true and clear through mounds of breathy keyboard and xylophone arrangements, clever percussion parts give much more than standard time and while guitars can feel a bit uncertain and a little chunk-chunky at times, they feel all the more genuine for it. It’s absolutely refreshing to hear a band who isn’t afraid to sound unsure of itself.

Now, Now Every Children - Everyone You Know

There are boatloads of good songs I could post for this band. This is the first song on the new In The City EP, a rockin’ cruiser, Everyone You Know.

Now, Now Every Children - Friends With My Sister

This is Friends With My Sister, the last song on the Not One, But Two EP. You must, must, must also go to Now, Now Every Children’s myspace page and listen to the demo version of the song Little Brother. So good, so, so good.

Sometimes I try to put together pieces of video that I’ve shot. I do my best to make these projects visually appealing by applying filters or slowing them down or through the use of other cheap iMovie gimmicks. It’s a pretty enjoyable process. All in all though, the most satisfying part of the whole ordeal is searching through my library and selecting a few pieces of music to accompany the video. Most of the time it only takes me a few minutes to find what I’m looking for; the themes of the footage often bring to mind albums or bands that I think would suit it perfectly.

But something weird happened last week. I heard Float, the first full-length album from Peter Broderick, and I experienced the reverse effect. This music is begging to be used as a soundtrack. Personally, I could see it as great for opening credits. As far as my own headphone usage, I would say it’s simply the ultimate walking-around-in-the-fall music. This album reminds me of being home–the Midwest–in the best way possible.

After a doing a little research and reading some interviews, I found out Peter does quite a bit of film score work, so I guess it’s not a huge shocker that this stuff is similarly constructed.

Now, I don’t like to drop names in my reviews, but if you’re like me, and geek out over modern composers like Jon Brion or (Broderick’s labelmate) Goldmund, I would highly recommend mining this dude’s catalog.

Peter Broderick - A Snowflake

Check out Peter Broderick here, purchase Float here, and if you live on the East Coast or in Europe, see him on tour with Efterklang (as the violinist) at these places.

Oh yeah, he’s only 21. You and I ought to feel pretty lazy right now…

Pictured: Craig Finn, soon to take over color commentary for the Minnesota Twins.

Usually I wouldn’t call out our readers’ comments, but the last time we wrote about The Hold Steady it only got one. One big, fat negative comment. “Aaaaaaaannnnndy! Don’t write about the Hold Steady! Nobody likes the Hold Steady. Hold Steady. Betty.” Wrong you are, Betty.

Craig Finn and Co. released the first single from their upcoming album, Stay Positive, today. It’s a three-and-a-half minute long jam called Sequestered in Memphis that’s more E-Street and full of crowd participation that we’ve heard from them before. There’s tons of organ, big finger-noodle guitar licks and plenty of gaudy saxophones. It’s really nothing revolutionary for The Hold Steady, actually it’s a fairly straight-forward rock out song in comparison, but it’s packed full of the same irresistible, dirty energy and drunken emotions. Nobody but Betty can wait for this album.

The Hold Steady - Sequestered In Memphis

Listen while enjoying your favorite beverage.

During my first two years of high school, my best friend Paul and I used to sit in bean bag chairs and listen to Weezer records. This might be the coolest thing we ever did. We weren’t doing anything else. Since those days, I’ve had my mind bent by a ton of great records, but nothing has really blown me away to the point of setting aside time to put a pair of good headphones on, lay down, close my eyes, and listen to music. I’ll admit that this is mostly my fault. I’ve been busy. It’s not necessarily that these songs didn’t deserve my full attention, I just didn’t make the time. The point is, Bobby & Blumm’s debut album, Everybody Loves… marks the first time I’ve really sat down with an album. You should too.

Well-recorded guitars are important to me. In fact, a fantastic guitar tone has, in my opinion, the ability to excuse a lot of awful things going in a song. These guitars are beautiful. Few instruments in this world can match the quality of a clean electric guitar. I’m at a point right now where I think almost everything recorded with an acoustic guitar could have been improved by substituting a clean Fender guitar.

Wait a minute. This thing also has boy-girl harmonies. Say what you will about the cheese factor of boy-girl harmonies, but these ones will destroy you, all the while being the most understated vocals you’ve heard so far this year.

This is gorgeous.

Bobby & Blumm - In Future Present

Visit Bobby & Blumm here, purchase Everybody Loves… here (or here if you buy vinyl), and go see them on tour whenever that happens.