"All My Friends" is a really tremendous song and, had it had been performed by Broken Social Scene (which it very much could have), it would have likely shown up on my radar a long time ago. It does a great job of capturing that sort of jam session energy that lets the listener feel like he or she is privy to something really exciting and spontaneous. The playing is just loose enough and the pop-polish is just unpolished enough to sell the point. It's a lot of fun. The distorted vocals are especially well used here. It's slight enough to never impede on Powell's ability to showcase her range and instead works to give her voice that honest low-fi sound, something similar to the charm of a great band playing through a cheap PA or your favorite song muddled by shitty car speakers.

Land of Talk - "All My Friends"

I spent a lot of time and money in high school and my first few years of college buying crappy comps because I liked the label that put them out, or because I liked one of the bands, or just because I was hoping to find anything worth listening to. There was usually a lot of uninspired filler, but occasionally you'd find a gem. Those gems were often half-baked (unpolished?), usually marking a moment in a band or song's life where enthusiasm and talent push the product forward, but before practice produces a more refined sound. Young Hearts sound like the sort of sloppy and wonderfully angsty pop-punk that shows no signs of intervention by a producer and often showcases one good idea tripping over another. It sounds like a band trying to get noticed.

I'm impressed.

Young Hearts - "Carpe Nocturnem"

Hardfloor is a German techno duo that got their start in the early 90s. This motley crew (one having just gotten out of prison for posession of a large amount of E and the other having just gotten out of the army) have been referred to as "virtuosos" at the Roland TB-303 Bass Line synthesizer. They were known for using up to 6 of them at a time. This synthesizer was originally created for the purpose of sounding like a bass guitar. Acid artists like Hardfloor and Chicago's very own Phuture drove the 303 to produce harsher sounds that defined the acid genre. Most, if not all, of the melody in this song is created by the 303.

When I first heard this song, I immediately was reminded of the Crystal Method's early sound, which is perhaps why I like this track so much.

Hardfloor is known for their long buildup, but believe me, the payoff is worth it.

I drove from Chicago to Atlanta in 12 straight hours earlier this week. It's a beautiful drive and I wish everyone could make it, but I'm sure plenty of people can't and wouldn't want to if they could. Oh well. Southern Kentucky is gorgeous and the highway wraps and winds around the forests and hills, running at the edge of cliffs and rarely passing through any major urban center. It feels, and this is an odd way to express it, very middle America. My car has an auxiliary for my ipod, so I was fortunate enough to avoid changing CDs at 75 MPH. I'd also say it was pretty fortunate that I found this Emmylou Harris song in time to add it to my driving mix. It's kind of amazing and was probably the right thing to listen to - it made me feel a bit less like some asshole from Chicago passing through on his way to law school.

When I was looking to join a band a few years ago, I put an ad on Craigslist explaining that I had played bass for a while and describing my musical background. Then, since I felt that I wasn't really communicating all that much about myself or where I was coming from, I quickly put down that if I could have written any song, I would have wanted to have written The Promise Ring's "Red and Blue Jeans." It was off the cuff, but I thought it over and felt it was appropriate. I've listened to a lot of music since then and my tastes have certainly changed, so I'm not going to say that this is the hands-down choice, but I'm not so sure I'd change my answer either.

Promise Ring - Red & Blue Jeans

Does It Offend You, Yeah? sound like that super cool indie rock dance party you missed, or worse yet, weren't invited to. Or maybe they just sound like Bloc Party meets Death From Above 1979. I don't know. But the infectious energy squeaks with great production that rides an edgy low end through the sort of bouncy grooves you'd have at one of your exclusive indie rock dance parties. That being said, I have feel no real emotional connection to this song. Unlike Bloc Party, it's lyrically flat and superficial and unlike DFA1979, the energy is contained in accessible grooves that never come close to sounding like arty noise. It's a tremendous song and I'm listening to it constantly, but I'm wondering if this is one that's going to stick around.

It's the weekend. Go for a run. Listen to this.

Off With Their Heads' Hospitals was the soundtrack to my frustrating and impossibly boring government job that preceded my enrollment in law school. Since then I've found myself working my way through their seemingly endless piles of seven inches and EPs. From The Bottom is their first full length and I am beyond excited by the mix of the album. Whoever mastered this was smart enough to bring the bass way up in the mix and thin it to give it this great metallic crunch that provides a really interesting and abrasive backbone to OWTH's brand of melodic and depressive pop punk. I guess the same can be said for the kick drum.

The record doesn't have the same bounce as Hospitals and that is only partly due to the song writing. In many ways, it sounds like a hardcore album, with the rhythm section pushing the band forward. Lyrically, the whole album is despairingly dark and filled with self-loathing. It's an interesting take on the whole pop punk formula and, in a weird way, it's remarkably endearing. These themes aren't really being explored in the genre and it's clear that a lot of emotion and effort went into the end product. What we get is a piece of Ryan, entirely unfiltered.

Off With Their Heads Myspace - everything but "Your Child Is Dead" is off the new album.

I was laying around the house a few Saturdays ago, feeling lazy and sore from an earlier trip to the gym. The TV was amazingly uninspiring and my housemates were out running errands, or being social, or just generally doing something constructive with their time. My perfunctory checking of the New York Times website didn't bring anything worth reading to my attention, so I decided to go for a walk. I was going to make my way down to the Bay because, well, you just can't do that in Atlanta or Chicago.

I didn't have any plans for the evening and my housemates were going to the fire arts festival (a taste of arson for $50) so maybe I was just killing time. The Bay is only a few miles away and, if it were a straight shot, it would be a relatively short walk. Unfortunately, it was not entirely clear what street would take me across the railroad tracks and the highway. As I kept hitting dead end after dead end, desperately trying to get around this colossal barrier comprised of warehouses and barbed wire fences, I got lost in my own head. I started thinking about how hard I had worked to get a paying summer job in a city I had never spent any time in and how fortunate I was for being able to spend time with so many interesting and smart people. I was feeling pretty content when my thoughts were interrupted by the view of the Bay and the San Francisco skyline from atop a pedestrian bridge crossing highway 80. I stood in the cool breeze, leaning against the guardrail, and thought that the view alone was worth the trip. Then I turned around and started my long walk back.

Neutral Milk Hotel - "In An Aeroplane Over The Sea"