
Logan Kroeber acts every bit the capital-P "Percussionist" on the Dodos sophomore record, pounding out ramshackle, persistent rhythms which tumble smartly beneath an alternately intricate and thrashing acoustic. Singer Meric Long's crafty wordplay and surprisingly affecting sentiment sound out among the clamor, providing the best record of the year with a hefty emotional punch.

It's worth mentioning again, lest we forget: We're damn lucky Spencer Krug and Dan Boekner still set aside time from their day jobs for Wolf Parade. Their sophomore effort resounds with joyous cynicism from the first Casio strains of "Soldier's Grin," and finds Boekner coming into his own as a socially-critical songwriter while Krug works his effortless ethereal magic, all while managing to name-check the Mamas and the Papas.

The perpetually sepia-toned Walkmen pulled off a stunner this year with this smoldering firecracker of a record. Steeped in haunted acoustics, Hamilton Leithauser's mournful croon, and guitars/organs set to overdrive, You & Me could soundtrack The Great Gatsby. The band's vital rhythm section succeeds yet again in breathing fire into Leithauser's smoky lounge-act.

Combining Spector harmonies, shoegaze chainsaw guitars, and punk thrash, Vivian Girls sprinted out of the gate with an arresting debut album bursting with contagiously energetic hooks that stick in your head like the best old Buzzcocks singles. At turns sunny and tragic, this is an immediately accessible noise-pop record that also rewards repeat listens.

Soul-baring bedroom indie pop doesn't get much better than Young Fridays, the label debut from prolific self-releaser Ryan Schmale. C86 hiss and jangle filters through Daniel Johnston's desperate earnestness resulting in a record that is catchy, rich, and haunted.
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