Saint Motel's perky indie pop sounds suspiciously like it might be used to advertise a Target summer sale, but it's poppy and fun and maybe we don't have to think about this stuff quite so much and are allowed to just dance occasionally. Great Good Fine OK take this sound in more of a dreampop, indie-electro, MGMT direction. Falsetto abounds.
Sir Woman's bouncy bedroom pop rests on a foundation of synths and drum machines and borrows more liberally from funk, soul, R&B, and disco than her sadgirl peers, with a sound closer to smoothcore, ready-for-NPR contemporaries like Lake Street Dive and easy-listening forebears like Hall and Oates.
Neo-bluesman Pokey LaFarge brings indie rock sensibilities to bayou roots-rock instrumentation. One nerd who spent his childhood listening to Dr. John, Creedence Clearwater Revival, and Donovan can recognize another. Cicada Rhythm's backwoods harmonies evoke a similar slew of Americana revivalist influences.
Destroy Boys interpolate grunge, punk, and metal into a modern mélange of tough-girl rock and roll, with vocals reminiscent of bands like French Vanilla, Cherry Glazerr, and Cry Babe. Farmer's Wife similarly evokes predecessors like Nirvana and the Meat Puppets; Deux Visages is no less aggressive but occasionally reveals a softer, sweeter vocal delivery.
Los Angeles garage wunderkinds The Linda Lindas formed at a music camp for girls and hit it big quick, opening for Bikini Kill and recording a soundtrack for the film "Moxie" while still in their teens. I think they're still in their teens. Former high school prodigy garage band Be Your Own Pet reunites to open the show.
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Dream-pop-rockers Cryogeyser return to the Rebel Lounge with their spaced-out, depressive guitar jams; juxtaposed against the sweet, clear vocals of lead singer Shawn Marom. Starling frontwoman Kasha Willett's reedy, slightly nasal voice soars over the heavy, distorted guitar chords and lugubrious basslines of the band, clear descendants of shoegaze pioneers like Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine.
Legendary Tucsonan bluesman Bob Log III returns to the Crescent Ballroom, fueled by boob Scotch, visage concealed as ever by his trademark motorcycle helmet. One of the goofiest characters to ever play stripped-down garage-rock blues.
Marquee millennial indie-rock outfit Clap Your Hands Say Yeah visit the Crescent Ballroom to celebrate the 10th anniversary of their critically-acclaimed, self-titled debut album. The band's four-on-the-floor drum-machine beats, noodly synth lines and lead singer Alec Ounsworth's warbly vocals now feel like relics of the Pitchfork Age, but so what? None of us is getting any younger. Babehoven open the show, featuring the sort of moody-sadgirl-indie-mumbling which is doubtless becoming familiar to regular readers of HarperQuest: Nights!