Neo-Psychedelic Outfit Woods Returning to The Chapel on August 20

Photo by John Andrews

Though primarily known as a neo-psychedelic or folk outfit, the New York-based band Woods have never been afraid to indulge their pop tendencies over their 20-year career.

While vocalist Jeremy Earl’s wounded, warbly delivery will never be heard on the pop radio stations (if those still exist), Woods has shown a knack for crafting immediate earworms that contain plenty of catchy—if unconventional—hooks and inviting melodies. That talent first came through in the band’s 2009 breakout album, “Songs of Shame,” and it resurfaced again with 2021’s “Strange to Explain.”

The latter album showcased the band’s ever-improving production sound while containing a couple of songs (“Where Do Go You When You Dream” and the title track, in particular) that could have been outtakes from MGMT’s funhouse mirror pop masterpiece “Oracular Spectacular.”

Yet, ever wary of flying too close to the sun, Woods have shifted gears, retreating from their dalliance in accessibility with a follow-up album that is restless, boundless and unconcerned with classic pop norms. Last year’s “Perennial” was the latest example of the band’s tendency to shy away from their previous effort, a tactic that has made Woods an endlessly exciting and unpredictable group.

“We like to make albums that are reactions to what we did before,” said Woods’ multi-instrumentalist, producer and founding member Jarvis Taveniere, whose band will be playing at the Chapel on August 20. “I love “Strange to Explain”—I think it’s a solid record. During those sessions, we had a bunch of songs that were very loose and mostly just instrumentals, those would haven’t made much sense to put on that record. So, when we were done touring behind “Strange to Explain,” we decided to go that jammier route, to just keep things exciting for us.”

“Perennial” is full of loping, bucolic instrumental numbers, with guitars and drums fettered by woodwind instruments. Imagine if your local jazz outfit decided to play their tunes in a bedfull of moss and you get an idea of the atmosphere crafted by Woods. Each song feels deeply organic—instruments fusing and blending together in complementary and seamless manners.

That craftsmanship is the result of two decades of experience, as Earl and Taveniere have been playing together since founding the band in 2004. The two met as students at SUNY-Purchase in central New York, and while they were initially playing in separate bands, they quickly formed a kinship, driven in large part from their experiences traveling together.

“There was a pretty vibrant music scene back then, and it was interesting to go on tour and see people who couldn’t really hang out doing this full time,” said Taveniere. “Jeremy wasn’t like that—you could tell he was cut out for this life. He was somebody who I could not only envision collaborating creatively with, but also someone who I could just hang out with. We both were ready to forego the comforts of a normal life and make things fun.”

While the band is now split up between two coasts—two members, including Taveniere, live in Los Angeles while the other three members reside in the group’s home base of New York—Woods remain ever prolific. “Perennial” is the band’s 12th album, an impressive output for a band celebrating 20 years of existence. Because of that longevity, the creative process has become second nature for the band.

“A lot of these songs just came out of jams or writing on the fly,” said Taveniere. “We will be playing together, and Jeremy will run off to the corner with a pad and pen and just start writing lyrics. It’s pretty exciting when that happens. We tried to set it up where we kind of worked backwards, to turn those jams into proper songs. It can take a long time to really develop a certain type of language with other musicians where you have this unspoken thing. We have that in this band, and I really cherish that.”

Most of the album was recorded at a studio in Stinson Beach, the second straight Woods record to be crafted at the Marin County site, which doubles as an apartment and living space (as he has in past efforts, Taveniere led the production and engineering efforts of the album.) Woods has deep ties to Northern California—the music festival run by the band’s label Woodsist, started at Big Sur, and the group frequently partners with local production outfit, (((folkYEAH!))) and is a recurring guest at the Chapel.

“When we first started, we were really good friends with a bunch of San Francisco bands,” said Taveniere. “People actually thought we were from Northern California. We always felt a deep connection here. Whenever we come to San Francisco, there isn’t any pressure on us—we know we can be ourselves.”

For the Chapel show, Taveniere said the band is devising a setlist that is reflective of its deep catalog—and its penchant for change. 

“I’m already looking forward to our next album,” said Taveniere. “And this time, I want to do the opposite of what we did for “Perennial.” I’m excited about doing something more composed and rehearsed in pre-production.”

It would be the classic Woods maneuver—sticking to the script by ignoring the script completely.

Show Details:
Woods with Anastasia Coope
When: 8 p.m., Tuesday, August 20
Where: The Chapel
Tickets: $23 - $26, available here.

Japandroids Return for One Final Ride

Photo by Dan Monick

It seems fitting that a band whose entire ethos is about squeezing every little last drop out of life has announced their return, with a caveat that their latest album will also be their final one.

Japandroids, the dude-rock duo out of Vancouver composed of singer/guitarist Brian King and drummer David Prowse, have never been the most gifted lyricists or technically adroit musicians. But their music has always been deeply resonant and emotive because every song feels like the ultimate do-or-die moment—their entire catalog is made from the same tendons and sinews as “Born to Run” and “Bastards of Young.” 

They sing raucously about hanging with your friends and drinking and falling in love with girls who have wet hair (and they do so without mining tropes of toxic masculinity), but always with that ominous specter of time in the backdrop. 

They know all too well that life is short, and youth is fleeting—an acknowledgement that adds melancholy to their tales while also heightening every emotion imaginable. The Japandroids don’t party like there is no tomorrow—they party knowing full well that tomorrow will come, and you will be old when it does. But you’re young tonight, so don’t hold back. 

All the urgency and precious appreciation will take on a new level now, with last week’s announcement that the band’s fourth studio album, “Fate and Alcohol,” (the most Japandroids-y album title ever) will also be their last. 

That news, which came after some six years of inactivity, was paired with the release of their latest single, "Chicago," a track that could not be a more fitting send-off for the band. A slow-burning masterpiece, the song captures all the Japandroids hallmarks—it’s an ode to drinking too much, staying up too late and acknowledging that this behavior can’t last forever. It’s probably their finest song since “Celebration Rock” came out in 2012.

The band hasn’t released any tour dates yet, but surely that news is coming soon. The Japandroids' experience can’t be fully realized unless it’s in a live setting. Once those farewell shows happen, there will certainly be plenty of tears in beers. But those won’t come in service of sadness—they’ll be in recognition of all that’s happened.

Broken Dreams Club Interview: Google Earth

Photo Credit: Maria Vanderslice

For decades, John Vanderslice was the impish cult hero of the San Francisco music scene. A prolific singer-songwriter, Vanderslice also operated Tiny Telephone Recording, a beloved studio in the Mission District.

Feeling pressure from the increasingly untenable cost-of-living in San Francisco, Vanderslice closed Tiny Telephone in 2020 and decamped to Los Angeles, although the satellite Tiny Telephone studio in Oakland stayed open. Vanderslice will soon be on the move again, as he and his wife Maria are set to relocate to the Netherlands next May. 

Before he leaves, Vanderslice will continue work on his latest project, Google Earth, an electronica-infused outfit he’s formed with longtime collaborator James Riotto (a highly accomplished producer and musician in his own right.) The duo’s debut album, “Street View,” will be coming out on August 9, and on Tuesday, the group released their second single from that record, “JJolts.”

Broken Dreams Club spoke with Vanderslice and Riotto about their longtime partnership, recording “Street View,” MDMA, and the importance of chair placement in studios.

So…take me back to the beginning. You two met in 2009 in San Francisco at Tiny Telephone, right? What was that first meeting like? Kind of instant chemistry?

John Vanderslice (JV): Yeah, it was just instant chemistry. I thought, ‘oh, this guy is such a baller.’ I just knew it. He was kind of intimidating, for some reason. I remember he kind  of spoke to me really self-assured. And he's confident and I'm nervous. And I talk too much. He just seemed really comfortable in his own skin. He did an arrangement of "They Won't Let Me Run" from “Cellar Door,” and it was almost violent and overwhelming. So, we became friends. Then he started working at the studio. He started interning at the studio, or working at the studio and then immediately I was like, ‘let’s go on tour, let's work together.’ And we started making a bunch of records together. Now we just keep collaborating.

James— I think shortly after that initial meeting, John told you that one of your albums was recorded “terribly”—but that actually inspired you to explore production more? Is that true, and how did that kind of brutal honesty encourage you to explore the field more?

James Riotto (JR):I was touring with John in his band, and I was working on this album with my band and I was really excited about it. And I gave it to John, and I said, ‘hey, tell me what you think of this,’ and he was kind of radio silent. And then after a while, I pressed the issue. And he said, ‘I didn't say anything at first because honestly, I think it sounds terrible.’ And it really hurt. You know, when he said it, it was hard. But then I walked away from it, and I was, I know that John really respects me a lot. Because you know, he's hired me to be in his band. I had just arranged some of his music for this orchestra. And I know he's very effusive. I knew John thought a lot about me and thought highly of me. So, then it was the only reason he would have said that, is if it was true. And I kind of know this sounds insane, but at that point, I'd never really thought about music in the way it was recorded. I only really thought about it as, you set up some microphones and you play music. That's a very jazz way of thinking. And I kind of remember putting on one of his records and thinking, it really does sound so much better. I had no idea what he was doing, but it just sounded way better. And I wanted to know how to do that.

You’ve been friends for 15 years now. What prompted this latest collaboration?

JR: Well, we've made, I don't know, three records together before. And that was always John's music, but it was very collaborative. I mean, I think the last couple we sort of just wrote together.

JV: They were very collaborative, equally collaborative.

JR: And I think we were pushing each other into weirder territory with electronic music. And honestly, we were getting into these MDMA hangs, where we would listen to this weird electronic abstract music, and it just sounded so new and exciting to us. We both got into making that sort of experimental music. We just got together to jam and experiment with these particular boxes that we had made by this company Elektron. And I don't think we really were intending on making an album, that just sort of happened really organically out of these hangs, where we would get together and jam and experiment with these very particular idiosyncratic instruments.

And you chose the moniker Google Earth for the band name. That might be the least searchable name possible. Was that part of the appeal? Kind of a commentary on the digital nomadic life we all live now? The idea that if something can’t be Googled, it might as well not exist?

JV: I think that we basically just boofed coming up with a bad name, especially me and then my poor wife had given us a list of like, 100 names, and she's still irritated that we picked Google Earth. And Jamie and I were kind of poring over these names and it's so hard to come up with a name. As an adult man, I can't believe I've been doing this for like 20 years, and I still can’t come up with a stupid band name.

JR: I remember that I was working with this band at my studio, and I had this list that Maria [John's wife] had made, and we were having lunch. And I started talking about how it's hard to come up with a band name and they were just said, ‘okay, let's do this. You say a band name. And on the count of three, we all just rate it from one to 10.’ And I would say a band name and just everyone would give it a one. So, then we started talking about how you have to have a weird misspelling to make it searchable. Then we talked about how there's this counter movement to basically make it impossible to search, so I said Google Earth, and I told John about this discussion, and he was like, ‘that’s actually good,’ and it took me to this place, where I really liked it too. It’s an anti-band name.

Again, Street View as the album title is much in that same vein. Are you almost like fucking with people at this point?

JV: Well, that was my wife, Maria. She is always kind of filling in the gaps with Jamie and me. She was just, you know, the ‘record really should be called the “Street View”’. We were both kind of like, ‘god damn, she’s right.’

JR: We also had this photo from when we were at the studio, mixing it in Oakland. Our friend Danielle took this photo of us that was outside the studio, and so it felt like “Street View” really worked with us. 

John—you’ve been steering into this electronica musical direction for years now. We’ve talked in the past how you could never picture yourself returning to that singer-songwriter milieu you once inhabited. It just feels so stale. Do you ever see yourself growing tired in that same way of this digital world?

Well, it's a good question. You know, it's funny making two records right now. Jamie and I are making another Google Earth record right now. And then I've been trying for the past year and a half to finish this new solo record and, you know, I have to finish it because we're packing up all of the music gear for honestly, about nine months. Once the container gets here, everything's packed up and it's gone, and the container takes six months to get to the Netherlands. So, I can't imagine not finishing this record, but I’m really struggling to make a solo record that’s a blended version of normal songs and electronic stuff and it's really not very good. Honestly, it's not very good. I'm not being funny. I'm not being coy—I listened to it this morning. I felt I was making some headway. And I listened to every song I have in this folder and it’s really not believable music except for two songs I think are really cool. And so now I'm in this weird panic mode of like, "I’ve got to figure out how to do this. I do think it is a little bit hard for me to go back to writing songs on acoustic guitar. I think it's hard just simply because it's really tough. I don't think that's in invalid. I mean, I was listening to the Flying Burrito Brothers yesterday and T. Rex. I like those songs. I think that I’m just burned out personally and I become very impatient writing lyrics and that's just 100 percent laziness. I just think that electronic music is this endless kind of maze that you can go into. And Jamie and I talk about this all the time. Because it can be endless, it’s a lot of fun to find the reason why you're doing it—and that's often the hardest part. That's why Jamie and me collaborating was so easy because we could find that path forward together. If you're alone, you're simply like, ‘why in the fuck am I making these bleeps and bloops, you know?’

Jamie—you come from a jazz background. You talked about it a little bit in the beginning, but how did you kind of start to embrace these more electronica sounds? 

JV: Drugs!

JR: I mean, honestly, that was a big part of it, but also, some of my favorite music that I started with, they're entry points into it. It's funny, when you get into jazz, there is sort of a trajectory. You're not all of a sudden listening to the Art Ensemble of Chicago. It would sound cacophonous and fucking nuts. So, you start with, Duke Ellington and Oscar Peterson and then Sonny Rollins and it sounds cool and then you listen to Miles Davis and, you know, there's a progression that gets you into the more abstract stuff. And I think the same sort of thing happens with electronic music where you listen to Radiohead, and then you realize that Thom Yorke is always listening to Overmono and you know, Squarepusher and stuff like that. And then you listen to that, and you realize that those guys are into Autechre. And suddenly, you are listening to music that would have been unimaginable to you a couple of years ago. And I guess another thing is that working in a recording studio. Now, the actual sonics of something are really important to me and electronic music pushes that in a way that very few things do. It’s also kind of—I know this sounds silly—but I've thought about a porn star and what kind of sex they'd be into. They can't just have vanilla sex. You know? And I just listen to music all the time, so at a certain point, the things that get me really excited are kind of a little weirder than they are with most people. Electronic music felt like it tapped into that, you know, weird thing.

Let’s talk about this new album. You’re both accomplished producers and mixers and engineers. What was it like working together as a duo on an album? How did you kind of split up those managerial duties for Street View?

JR: Well, I think we’ve worked on about 50 records together. I worked at John’s studio for about 12 years and basically learned everything I know from working at Tiny Telephone. So, it felt pretty normal.

JV: There’s one funny thing—Jamie is a much better engineer than I am, and he's a much better producer than I am. But because of the studio setup, where I’m basically blocking his access, I ended up engineering. It’s literally because my chair faces all the equipment. And it definitely doesn't sound as good as it would if Jamie were sitting in the chair. It's just that it’s my studio.

JR: Yeah—it’s set up for John for the way he works and he's the only one that needs it. So, I sit in the chair, and I'm like, ‘where the hell is everything’. So, it’s just easier for him to do it.

The first single is ‘something complicated.’ I know there isn’t an elaborate product roll out for this album, but was there a particular reason you all chose to release that song first? John—your voice sounds gorgeous and haunting, and the sonic textures are so rich and strange. Did it just feel like the right song to lead with?

JV: Well, Jamie did all the song structures and he also played everything, so he played the acoustic guitar and all the real stuff. I think that we just felt that that song had this very unusual unfolding structure that just keeps developing. I love how unbelievably long it is and the vocals are just one thing repeating with effects. You know, I think I only did whatever one line and then just affected it through, you know, plugins and other junk.

John—we’ve talked about this topic for some of your most recent work and James, as a jazz musician, I’m sure you’re familiar with this concept, but for music that feels formless and boundless like the tunes on “Street View”, how do you determine when one song ends and the other begins?

JR: As I said—and I truly know this sounds like a trope—but we were not trying to make a record at all. And the way that this happened feels kind of like magic. ‘something complicated’ as an example—we made that when we were hanging out, we made it in one day in about two hours. The basic part of that song was made because we had this idea to try a vocoder. We had never really worked with a vocoder and we're like, let's download this vocoder and see if it's cool. So, we made that song. And I'm not exaggerating that I never listened to it. We never talked about it again for maybe six or seven months. Yeah, it was just in a Google Drive folder. And, then it was only when I basically went on a hike and I got stoned and I downloaded some of the stuff in the Google Drive folder and I listened and I remember calling John and said ‘dude, there's actually really good stuff in here.’ And then we started working on stuff. And at that point, John took ‘something complicated’ and did all the vocal stuff and kind of did an arrangement of it because at the time it felt like almost an etude—just a means to practice. And then he did that and sent it to me and I was thinking, ‘holy shit, this is awesome, you know?’ And so, the whole process of finding songs and knowing where they started and ended just felt incredibly organic. I think that's very unique. 

For a lot of songs, you can see how your loves of jazz and electronica intersect. “JJolts”, for instance, has these huge blaring noises that sound like alien brass instruments. Was that the idea? To create digital sounds that recall analog instruments?

JR: I think that song was those nine Elektron boxes, and John and I both had a mono machine and a machine drum. And that was actually one of the last songs that we made for this record. It came together in about an hour. And John did this really interesting thing. The mono machine is split into six instruments within itself. And he externally played all of the instruments together with another keyboard which, I just didn't even know was possible. And so that weird melody thing in the middle was just John, playing the whole mono machine and it turned into this sort of quasi instrument that you've never heard before. 

But there are some real horns on the album, right? “Deep Sea Leaks”, for instance? 

JR: Yeah—our friend Nicole McCabe played some sax, alto sax and flute on a couple songs. 

JV: It's really amazing when a real instrument pops in, because this is a very claustrophobic, highly, digital landscape that has its own pleasures. But sometimes it's amazing just to get a little bit of air in there.

“Afterlife” really feels like such an appropriate coda for the album. It’s a departure from most of the album and feels like the most traditional “pop song,” although most don’t start with “I cut my wrists.” Was it important to end on that note? Did you always feel like that was the album closer?

JV: It felt like a good, sad funny closer. Those lyrics, which Maria wrote, I think are hilarious. I mean, they're so fun and weird.

The album comes out August 9. Any plans to tour? John you’ve really embraced—I guess unconventional touring approaches—living room shows, venues that aren’t traditional clubs—could that be something that works for Google Earth?

JV: I'm also cutting out the ticket buyers because no one is buying tickets. No, I mean, I don’t think the house shows could work. I think that probably every artist now out there, feels that everything has just shrunk down. It’s just not feasible for me to leave LA County. Jamie and I have been playing shows in LA and it's a total blast. We’re going to play at the end of the month, but other than that, we don’t have a ton of plans.

So that show at the end of the month—will that be a Google Earth show?

JV: Yeah—it’s at a really cool place called Healing Forces in Pasadena.

And will that be the first “Google Earth” show?

JR: We had one a few weeks ago at Permanent Records in LA. You know, what's interesting is that we set these rehearsals and we thought, ‘yeah, let's play music off this record.’ And then we got to John's house to rehearse and both of us agreed that there's no fucking way we're playing these songs.

Yeah—I was going to ask. How would a live show translate? There are so many moving parts on these songs—how would you approach recreating that sound in a live setting?

JV: We couldn’t play one song live.

JR: I mean, it would take us two months, working every day to figure out how to play these songs. And that’s sort of a goal. I think it would be amazing, and really impressive. But we just made a set of electronic music to improvise. And I think we're going to do a similar thing in a couple of weeks.

John—how are things at Tiny Telephone in Oakland? Are you still making frequent visits?

JV: I think that all that stuff is okay, but I think I'm definitely worried. We’re only half booked for August, and I just don't have the financial wiggle room for this. I just got super depressed this morning thinking about it. I've already removed myself from the studio and I don't live in the Bay Area. So, I'm definitely worried that it stays busy. And I'm not doing myself favors by leaving the country.

Yeah, I mean, does it survive the move to the Netherlands? 

JV: I hope so. I’m pretty far removed now. No one really knows that I even live in LA. But I think that in time, the position of the studio has just weakened. The Bay Area has weakened art-wise, and it hasn't had that replenishment yet, you know? I mean, I'm nervous, you know, but we'll see what happens. But Jamie's studio is very, very successful. 

Jamie—what projects are you working on at your studio?

JR: Well, in the last year I've worked with Jamie XX. Dave from Dirty Projectors was in here and we are starting a record on Monday with Local Natives. It’s fun, but I love the stuff I do with John. I’m excited about this project.

“Street View” comes out on August 9.

Ageless Indie Rockers The Walkmen Dazzle Sold-Out Crowd at Bimbo’s

Photo Credit: Marisa Plaice

Has any band enjoyed a second (and third) act quite like the Walkmen?

The New York quintet burst upon the scene with two perfect albums—their 2002 debut, “Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone,” and their explosive 2004 follow up, “Bows + Arrows.” The first album was a twisted vaudevillian update for modern times and their sophomore release was a scathing rejoinder of urban ennui—you could practically feel the stale beer and cigarette smell on the songs.

But by 2007, the band had largely been overshadowed by their New York City peers, with indie darlings like Grizzly Bear and brooding dad rockers The National stealing the headlines. That was mostly the result of their uninspired 2006 album “A Hundred Miles Off,” and their ill-fated cover of Harry Nilson’s album, “The Pussy Cats.”

Seemingly destined to join the endless list of once-promising bands consigned to anonymity, the Walkmen followed up with 2008’s “You and Me,” a tour-de-force that recounted all of “Bows + Arrows” best moments. It was rapturously received, and they then released two other stellar and inventive albums, “Lisbon” and “Heaven,” before going on a hiatus in 2013 (although they have always disputed that term.)

That unexpected comeback alone would have been a great story, but the Walkmen reemerged last year after a decade-long break to stage their “Revenge Tour,” a string of shows that included an array of sold-out dates and prominent festival appearances. The band sounded as sharp as ever in those performances, and their fans had clearly not forgotten them.

While the band has been less active in 2024, they’ve performed at a smattering of music festivals and they scheduled two West Coast shows at Bimbo’s, the venerable North Beach club in San Francisco. On Thursday, July 11, the band performed the first of those two gigs, and hooboy, they did not disappoint.

The Walkmen have always projected a sense of equitable creative collaboration—each member of the group has embarked on various other cprojects—but in a live setting, it’s hard not to be overwhelmed by the sheer presence of lead singer Hamilton Leithauser. 

He might have a name that recalls feudal aristocrats and an appearance that wouldn’t look out of place in Yale’s Skull and Bones Club, but Leithauser is a caterwauling, feral beast onstage. There is no other indie rock singer who reaches the heights of his vociferous wailing, and his facial gesticulations and general intensity in a live setting are just ridiculously infectious—if you don’t feel compelled to scream alongside him, then you damn well might not have a pulse.

The band opened the show with the relatively tranquil “On the Water,” before entering into a devastating back-to-back of “Juveniles” and “In the New Year.” With its call and response of “You’re one of us/Or one of them,” “Juveniles” has earned its spot as a beloved live favorite, and the manic “In the New Year,” with its whirling organ play, is simply one of the best Walkmen songs ever recorded.

The Walkmen flit seamlessly between soft and loud moments (although Leithauser’s vocal theatrics never tend to abate), so quieter tunes like “138th Street” seem to resonate just as profoundly as their more transgressive sounds, such as “Thinking of a Dream I Had.”

Leithauser has always been an able showman, unafraid to charm audiences with his trademark dry humor, and Walkmen shows are typically laden with references to the band’s history. At the show on Thursday, Leithauser referenced the band’s prior stop at Bottom of the Hill—the legendary punk bar in Potrero Hill—and noted that the group’s only previous time playing at Bimbo’s was a “disaster.” He also mentioned that guitarist Paul Maroon’s father, Fred, was a decorated photographer who previously captured stirring pictures of Bimbo’s, some 60 years ago. 

It all felt very homegrown and familial, which makes sense, considering the band all met as high school students in Washington, D.C. And all those years have done nothing to diminish their live show—Maroon is a criminally underrated (and understated) guitarist, and it’s time to concede that the diminutive Matt Barrick is the best indie rock drummer in the world.

In fact, Barrick’s rapid-fire opening salvo is the definitive moment of the band’s definitive song, “The Rat.” Widely regarded as one of the best songs of the century, “The Rat” has long been THE must-see moment of a Walkmen show, and after closing with that number for years, the band steadily moved it up on its setlist. On Thursday, “The Rat” came near the end of their opening act, and unsurprisingly, blew the doors off Bimbo’s. The entire crowd engaged in a near hysteric rendition of the song, faithfully belting out each word at the top of their lungs. 

After closing out their set with the anthemic “Heaven,” (punctuated by its triumphant lines, “Remember, remember/All we fight for!”), the band returned with an encore of “Thinking of a Dream I Had,” and two of their oldest songs, “That’s the Punch Line,” and “We’ve Been Had.” Actually, “We’ve Been Had,” was the first Walkmen song ever recorded, and Leithauser acknowledged—as he has in the past—the significance of this tune, crediting the track with convincing him that his band had legitimate potential.

More than two decades after recording that song in a snowy New York City evening, Leithauser’s initial impressions clearly still ring true. Then as now, the Walkmen are a dynamic, thrilling and endlessly satisfying outfit. Whatever act comes next, it will be worth seeing.

Setlist:

On the Water 

Juveniles 

In the New Year 

Postcards from Tiny Islands 

Angela Surf City 

Dónde Está la Playa 

Woe Is Me 

I Lost You 

138th Street 

What's in It for Me 

Wake Up 

The Rat 

All Hands and the Cook 

Red Moon 

Canadian Girl 

Heaven

**ENCORE**

Thinking of a Dream I Had 

That's the Punch Line

We’ve Been Had

Peerless janglepop practitioners Ducks Ltd. playing at Rickshaw Stop on Monday

Photo Credit: Dylan Taylor

In 2003, when the Stokes released their sophomore album, “Room on Fire,” it was derided by many critics at the time as a duplicative, redundant effort too similar to the group’s seminal 2001 debut, “Is This It.”

However, as the years have passed, that second album has rightly been reassessed as a classic in its own right, a release that rivals its predecessor for greatness. “If it aint broke, don’t fix it,” is a salty old cliché, but it’s a cliché for a reason—sometimes it’s true.

That same adage applies to Ducks Ltd., a Toronto janglepop duo that turned considerable heads with the release of their 2021 debut album, “Modern Fiction,” a collection of shimmering, reverb-heavy guitar tracks. Three years later, much of that same winning formula was repeated for their dazzling sophomore album, “Harm’s Way.”

Tom McGreevy, the singer and guitarist for Ducks Ltd., who formed the band with lead guitarist Evan Lewis, said the band briefly considered a change in tone and tenor for its follow-up release, but abandoned that idea after feeling it would be disingenuous. 

“When we started working on the record, we were sort of like, ‘okay, are we going to take this in a different direction?’’” said McGreevy. “And then we quickly realized that that’s something you kind of just have to let it happen—you can’t force it. If we tried to self-consciously push something, we were not going to make something that’s honest.”

On Monday night, Ducks Ltd. will bring their tried and true approach to the Rickshaw Stop, where they’ll perform alongside beloved local janglepop outfit Chime School and dreampopper Mo Dotti (a frequent guest at SF venues.)

While the band’s undeniably catchy pop songs recall all the best of their predecessors—everything from the Byrds to Sarah Records bands to outfits on the great New Zealand label Flying Nun Records—the sonic elements of Ducks Ltd. are only half of the group’s appeal.

True millennials, the band writes from an insouciant, weary world view—the product of endless economic uncertainties, increasing artistic and creative marginalization and a listless political class that doesn’t match their values. “Hollowed Out,” the opening track on “Harm’s Way,” leads off with a lyrical salvo that quickly sets the tone for the remainder of the album, with McGreevy lamenting that, “All we ever do is need/Eat, fuck, and sleep/And then repeat forever.”

“I sort of liked that as the first lyrics on the record because it’s almost bordering on self-parody, but I thought a lot of people would get it,” said McGreevy. “You know, it’s about living through the economic and political and social movements of our time. I mean what I say in those lyrics,  but it’s also kind of funny, in this sad way.”

McGreevy’s laconic, dry delivery and tales of urban ennui offer an intriguing contrast to the propulsive, upbeat backdrop of the band’s musical output—every song feels like an urgent race to nowhere in particular. McGreevy noted that the disparate relationship between words and sound has been a practice honed by pop musicians for decades.

“It gets talked about a lot—this idea of holding two different ideas at once, but that’s really just the nature of pop music,” said McGreevy. “Pop music is bright and engaging, but there have always been these kinds of darker songs. If you go back to the 60s, you’ll see songs like ‘The Track of My Tears,’ and ‘Save the Last Dance for Me,’—those are songs with dark sentiments and that tension is what makes them so interesting.”

That arresting tension is prevalent throughout “Harm’s Way,” which is replete with chugging, skittering songs littered with sardonic observations. “Train Full of Gasoline” is a romping affair, full of starry guitar licks, but its messages are on brand for the album—" Bonded by an emptiness/Shared sense of dull dead endedness.” “Deleted Scenes'' is much in that same vein, a classic power pop track that yields words such as “You used to flirt with disaster/Got used to you letting other people down.”

Again—McGreevy notes that this isn’t a new wrinkle to songwriting, but Ducks Ltd.’s skilled musicianship and keen knack for crafting beguiling earworms adds extra depth to that combination. Ducks Ltd. seem incapable of writing songs that aren’t imminently engaging and also imminently relevant.

Additionally, the band offers a tantalizing glimpse of what could be in store on the final track of “Harm’s Way.” A quiet, wistful ballad that might be the sweetest song ever recorded by the band, “Heavy Bag” is a soft, cooing acoustic number that departs from the more clamorous atmosphere of their other work.

“Yeah—we had never really done anything like that before,” said McGreevy. “It was created as almost a demo—the song king of dictated that it had to be done that way. I think we were trying to break our tendency with that song and push a little against our instincts.”

There is understandably no rush from Ducks Ltd. to upend their winning ways. But “Heavy Bag” is proof that no sound or aesthetic is beyond the mastery of their capable hands. It bodes for an exciting future.

Show Details:

Ducks Ltd. with Chime School and Mo Dotti
When: 8 p.m., Monday, July 15
Where: Rickshaw Stop
Tickets: $15, available here.

Post-Disco Band De Lux Celebrating 10th Anniversary of Debut Album with Show at Rickshaw Stop on Friday

Photo credit: Mike Anderson

Most family heirlooms that come from one’s grandparents are staid offerings. 

Watches. Maybe some silverware. Perhaps some old photos.

Sean Guerin had a slightly different experience. Guerin, the founding member of the Los Angeles-based post-disco outfit De Lux, received a synthesizer from his grandfather, and that timely gift has made all the difference in his musical career.

“My grandfather and grandmother were in a jazz group called the The Aldeberts,” said Guerin. “He heavy collected a lot of gear and I inherited this synth. At the time, I didn’t really know what to do with it. I kind of thought the sounds were cheesy at first, but I spent a lot of time with it because, back then, I just didn’t have much equipment. It kind of forced me to learn to love the sounds of that synth and from there, I really embraced that idea of making modern music with older equipment.”

Production of that synthesizer, a Yamaha DX7, ceased in 1989, but the retro-style approach was instrumental in shaping the sound of De Lux’s early records, including their 2014 debut “Voyage,” which the band will perform in full as part of a 10th anniversary celebration at the Rickshaw Stop on Friday. The event will be presented by Throwin’ Bo’s, a local production outfit, in concert with Popscene, the longstanding indie dance pop-up show.

The roots of De Lux trace back to Guerin’s high school days, when he originally met fellow co-founding member Isaac Franco. After exploring various other musical projects over the years, the duo eventually decided to form a band together.

“I would actually be working in the studio and Isaac would come by and we would randomly write things together,” said Guerin. “At the time, he really wasn’t a very proficient bass player, but I always had this motto that it didn’t really matter if you were a great musician, as long as you were passionate about the project. I could tell that he was interested in what he was doing, and he  ended up getting way better at the bass. And that’s what really helped shape our sound.”

While Guerin was very much steeped in the indie rock sounds of bands like Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade and Built to Spill, he also had an affinity for the dance-punk outfits on James Murphy’s venerable label, DFA Records. Franco came from a slightly different background—his older brother had a bountiful record collection of 70s and 80s disco classics, in addition to more adventurous albums from the Italo disco genre and underground African artists. 

The combination of those influences resulted in a dancy, breezy aesthetic—a sound that captured the adventurous nature and propulsive rhythms of classic disco sounds without the overproduced sheen that marred some of those efforts. Guerin’s voice is a dead-ringer for David Byrne, so in addition to the nightclub vibes to records like “Voyage,” there is also a distinct new wave feel.

“That first album was a big Talking Heads moment for us,” said Guerin. “I hadn’t listened to that record [“Voyage”] in a long time before we had to get ready for these anniversary shows. And honestly, I do like every song on that album, which is cool. A lot of those tracks still hit for me—I’m excited to play them again.”

In recent years, De Lux have grown more boundless in their approach to songcraft, as evidenced by last year’s 29-minute single, “Love is Hard Work,” a dazzling journey through different dance music eras.

That track (which was later released in a multi-song format, consisting of nine different pieces), emphasized the textured sonic elements of the sound, with Geurin’s voice often absent or settled in below the mix. With its amorphous, evolving structure, “Love is Hard Work,” also showcased some of the band’s more recent inspirations, including African Boogie artists. That lengthy single followed the band’s 2022 record, “Do You Need a Release?” an album that saw De Lux pull away from its more classic dancefunk sound in favor of softer, gentler tunes.

Guerin said the band—whose live lineup includes Tyler Lott on Guitar, Taylor Rodiger on synths and Briar Seavey on drums, in addition to the founding members—is currently working on material for a new De Lux album and at the moment, about five songs are in finalized form, although he didn’t have an exact release timeline. He’s also working on a few other projects at the moment, including producing a new album for promising young artist, Gelli Haha.

For now, the band is focused on their upcoming performance at the Rickshaw Stop, a live show that will be driven by their old-fashioned approach to a newfangled setup—an approach that dates back to Sean’s grandfather’s wizened ways.

“With that synthesizer he gave me, he left all these Post-It notes, and one of them said, ‘synths don’t make stilted, disposable, boring, grooveless, crappy music—musicians do,’” said Guerin. “That was his philosophy. It’s not the equipment—it’s how you use it.”

Show Details:

Who: De Lux with Big Sis, Touch and DJ Guillermo
When: 8 p.m., Friday, July 12
Where: Rickshaw Stop
Tickets: $15, available here.

Movie-theater concert embodies a thriving music scene in the Richmond

Originally posted in the SF Examiner on July 1.

For generations, San Francisco’s music scene has been defined by its neighborhoods.

Back in the 1950s—before racist urban renewal policies upended the neighborhood—the Fillmore District was home to a vibrant jazz scene, featuring dozens of African American-owned establishments.

Most famously, the 60s counter-culture movement started in the Haight-Ashbury, pioneered by psychedelic outfits like the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane and Big Brother and the Holding Company. Decades later, in the 2000s, the city’s famed and frenetic garage rock scene took root in the Mission District, as bands led by Thee Oh Sees, Sic Alps and Ty Segall created a sense of community around small dive clubs and rent-controlled apartments.

Even the Tenderloin—with its warren of basements, art galleries, bars and recording studios—has a reputation for fostering the careers of young and burgeoning indie rock bands.

The Richmond District—the sprawling residential neighborhood in San Francisco’s northern reaches—has never enjoyed such a reputation. Mostly famed for its proximity to Golden Gate Park and as a last redoubt for (somewhat) affordable living in the city, the Richmond can boast of no distinct musical legacy.

In recent years, however, that has started to change. A new cohort of musicians have proudly set up home in the neighborhood, and the advent of venues with unique and exciting programming have suddenly made the quiet community a bustling and vibrant artistic hub. 

On Friday, the neighborhood will be the center of the city’s tight-knit musical world, when the 4 Star Theater on Clement Street hosts the Fresh & Onlys, a beloved San Francisco institution who will be performing publicly for the first time in six years.

Shayde Sartin, a founding member of the Fresh & Onlys—who rose to ascendancy alongside so many of their peers in the Mission District—drew parallels between that scene in the 2000s and the one currently happening in the Richmond District.

“The one thing that most scenes need to be healthy is this sort of condensed community, and that’s what we had in the Mission District,” said Sartin, who now lives in the Richmond. “I see that happening in the Richmond because there’s a lot of bands out here. A lot of people really appreciate this neighborhood, myself included. I think the Richmond has turned out to be this nice little harbor for these bands and for this scene”

Much of the Richmond’s newfound artistic vigor can be attributed to Adam Bergeron, the proprietor of the 4 Star Theater (2200 Clement Street) and Balboa Theater (3630 Balboa Street)—two movie cinemas in the neighborhood that have greatly expanded their offerings in recent years. 

Bergeron has owned the Balboa Theater and its sister theater, the Vogue on Sacramento Street, for more than a decade under his CinemaSF umbrella organization, but prior to entering the movie business, he ran music venues like 12 Galaxies in the Mission District and the Crepe Place in Santa Cruz. As a result, he forged longstanding relationships with musicians, often employing them in his movie theaters (it was a common sight to see members of local bands like the She’s or hardcore legend Tony Molina behind the counter at the Balboa and the Vogue.)

Sensing an opportunity, Bergeron, who runs CinemaSF with his wife, Jaimi Holker, began incorporating live music into the programming at the Balboa Theater, starting around 2017. Local bands regularly performed in the vintage cinema—which first opened in 1926—with Bergeron sometimes incorporating live music with screenings of classic movies.

In late 2022, he began taking over operations at the 4 Star Theater, which had been shuttered for two years due to COVID. After a slow start, Bergeron applied his formula of interlaying live music, interactive Q&A events and movie screenings to the venue, eventually building a new following to match the Balboa. In the decade-plus of managing venues in the Richmond, he’s said he’s definitely noticed a change in the neighborhood.

“When I first started here, it was a different world,” said Bergeron. “It was really hard to get people to come out here to watch a movie. But then, things like Uber and Lyft changed that. And I think people realized that the Richmond District is this really cool neighborhood. Like, you can get to the park from here, and there is like a cool surf culture here. And I do think introducing some entertainment options into the neighborhood has helped bring a new crowd here as well.”

In addition to regularly featuring a host of local acts like Chime School, Half Stack, Andrew St. James, and the Neutrals, Bergeron was able to land nationally-recognized artists such as Animal Collective, Robyn Hitchcock and the Flamin’ Groovies (a legendary San Francisco band.) Those artists added heft and credibility to Bergeron’s project, but managing the venues did not come without difficulty.

Initially, 4 Star struggled to attract customers—particularly to its movie screenings. At one point, the venue even hosted a GoFundMe Me campaign to support its mission. However, things changed when Bergeron invited Ben Wintroub, owner of Tunnel Records, to set up a second location within the 4 Star building. Wintroub, a Marin County native, who opened up Tunnel Records in the outer stretches of the Sunset District in 2017, leapt at the opportunity.

“Adam was a longtime customer at our shop, and I always really admired the kind of businesses he created,” said Wintroub. “As soon as he mentioned that he had this second theater that was kind of being underutilized, it didn’t take long for us to come up with a plan for Tunnel Records to be a tenant. And I know this sounds a little dated, but the Richmond District just had that vibe of San Francisco that I fell in love with growing up, going to music shows in the 90s. It just has this loose, unpretentious feeling to it, and I wanted to be part of that culture.” 

Bergeron credits Tunnel Records for reviving 4 Star, and now, the lion’s share of the live CinemaSF events takes place at that venue. The combination of retail space, movies and live performances has a special appeal for many, including Tim Cohen, the lead singer and founding member of the Fresh & Onlys.

“For people like me, this venue has it completely figured out,” said Cohen. “I could spend literally my entire day here. I would browse the record store for hours, go watch a movie and then catch a live show.”

While business owners like Bergeron and Wintroub have contributed to the new cultural vibes of the Richmond District, the masses of musicians who have moved to the neighborhood in search of low rent and more living space have undoubtedly made an impact. Members from bands like April Magazine and the Umbrellas call the neighborhood home.

No artist has done more to extol the everyday wonders of living in the Richmond than Glenn Donaldson of the Reds, Pinks and Purples. Every one of the band’s album covers is adorned with pastel-soaked images from the neighborhood, and Donaldson’s lyrics and song titles are teeming with local references. Donaldson has been living in San Francisco since 1995 and has always been an integral part of the music scene, but it wasn’t until his dreampop project with the Reds, Pinks and Purples, that he received national acclaim (international, actually—he just wrapped a tour in the UK.)

In 2022, Donaldson told the Examiner that the Richmond often helped inspire his songwriting ideas.

“I decided to do this idea inspired by the Kink’s ‘Are The Village Green Preservation Society’,” said Donaldson. “Just write about what’s right here, right in my neighborhood. So, a lot of the songs were composed in my head when I was just walking around the Richmond.”

Donaldson is a longtime friend of Sartin of the Fresh & Onlys, whose return to live music is a true boon to San Francisco. Although the group is closely associated with the late 2000s garage rock scene (the Fresh & Onlys debut album was the third release ever on John Dwyer’s Castle Face Records, the defining local institution of that moment), they never fit neatly into that box of scrawling, lo-fi mayhem.

Formed in 2008 by Sartin and Cohen, who were eventually joined by drummer Kyle Gibson and guitarist Wymond Miles, the band’s early offerings were frenetic and uproarious—irreverent garage rock send-offs. But their second album—“Play It Strange,” which landed on Pitchfork’s coveted year-end music list for 2010—eschewed much of that dissonance, yielding beautiful, haunting songs like “Waterfall,” a once-in-a-generation track that captured the band at their high point.

The releases following “Play it Strange,” pushed the envelope even further, as the band embraced more polished production sounds and dutifully crafted songwriting approaches. Albums such as “Long Slow Dance” and “House of Spirits” were undeniably gorgeous creations, more dreampop than punk rock and showcasing just how vast the Fresh & Onlys oeuvre could stretch.

“At some point, we kind of exhausted our means for trying to be lo-fi and grungy, so to speak,” said Cohen. “We were like, let’s see how these songs can sound like in this shimmering, romantic milieu, to see if we can sound actually pretty. It wasn’t a conscious thing or a reaction to how people perceived us—we always steered our own ship. That’s just what we wanted to do at the time.”

Despite the group’s increasingly engaging sound, the Fresh & Onlys’ lineup shifted and splintered in later years, with typical band dynamics—health troubles, personal life changes—reducing the lineup to just Miles and Cohen at one point. Eventually, Miles moved to Colorado, and the band stopped performing live, with the group playing just one private show—at a friend’s birthday party—since 2018.

Although divided among different locales, the band never considered themselves broken-up, and they often discussed plans of reconnecting for live shows. The Friday show has been years in the making, and was made possible with Miles back in town for the Fourth of July holiday. 

“Adam asked us to do this show and we’re all big fans of the 4 Star and Balboa and what’s he doing in the Richmond,” said Sartin. “We were all interested in seeing how this feels, to visit this part of our history.”

Both Cohen and Sartin expressed their enduring love for the city—and to have their return to live music take place at the Richmond District feels particularly prescient.

“Whenever we went out on tour, we were so proud to be this San Francisco band,” said Cohen, who added that the group is considering adding additional live dates beyond this 4 Star show. “This show is going to be a little fly-by-the seat-of-our-pants kind of thing. But we’ve always been that way. And I think people appreciate that.”

In a city famous for embracing the strange and unpredictable, the Fresh & Onlys playing in the Richmond District on the Fourth of July holiday cannot feel more quintessentially San Francisco.

Real Estate mixing things up for their latest tour

Originally published in the San Francisco Examiner on March 12

For more than a decade, Real Estate have been defined by their dependable excellence. Every couple of years, the New Jersey indie rock band is basically guaranteed to release an album of languid beauty, combining elements of catchy jangle pop, melodious harmonies and intriguing wordplay.

Although reliability has become almost synonymous for the band at this point, Real Estate have opted to do something decidedly off brand for their latest tour. Their shows have been displays of unpredictable eccentricity, with their tour opener in New York City only available to attendees with the name Daniel (the name of their latest album) and subsequent performances embracing interactive audience set pieces.

For their show last month at The Independent, the band played a game of rock bingo, where each popped ball encouraged a new prompt, such as “drummer plays guitar” and when they make their return to San Francisco for a show at Bimbo’s 365 Club on Wednesday, that same kind of random energy will be present.

“It just kind of dawned on me that we didn’t have to do the same thing every night,” said Real Estate bassist and founding member Alex Bleeker. “It’s kind of crazy that people gather in a room and are still willing to look at us after all these years. And there’s so many other things you can do than just stand on stage and play your songs.”

While the band is devoted to delivering a unique experience, Real Estate does not need to rely on gimmicks to put on a compelling show. “Daniel,” the group’s sixth full-length album, is another document of flawless and clever songwriting, crafted in the mode of their New Jersey slack-rocker predecessors The Feelies and power-pop auteurs Big Star.

The group recorded the album in Nashville, and their countrified environs bleed into the record. That’s particularly noticeable in the presence of the pedal steel, an instrument that thrusts the band from the suburbs of New Jersey into the murkier swamps of the Deep South.

The pedal steel pops up periodically throughout “Daniel,” acting as a guiding North Star (“Haunted World”), a searing and silvery complementary addition (“Interior”) and as ominous and forlorn backdrop (“You Are Here.”)

“It wasn’t like we wrote those songs with pedal steel in mind, but we just couldn’t resist,” said Bleeker. “It was about embracing the history of the place–embracing Nashville.”

Daniel is powered by the cooing vocals of primary songwriter Martin Courtney, whose pillowy delivery has become a trademark for Real Estate. His hushed tones and the band’s gentle pacing make every Real Estate album imminently listenable, but each new offering brings a different wrinkle to the group, something evidenced by the latest decision to embrace pedal steel.

And like past albums, “Daniel” features a cameo appearance from Bleeker on lead vocals, this time for the Dylanesque ballad “Victoria.” Bleeker, who also records as a solo artist and as Alex Bleeker and the Freaks, has long reveled in his supporting role—happy to act as the palate cleanser and gruffer foil to Courtney’s more placid demeanor.

“We’re not dogmatic at all about having a song of mine in every album,” said Bleeker. “Martin is our chief songwriter, so he’s like the meat and potatoes of what’s going on in Real Estate. But if I have a song that comes up during our writing process that makes sense to include and sounds good, we’ll add it into the mix.”

Although he met Courtney and Real Estate guitarist Julian Lynch as kids growing up in New Jersey, for the past decade Bleeker has lived in Marin County. His presence here has turned the Bay Area into a kind of home away from home for Real Estate, who are semi-regular presences in San Francisco, often playing at The Chapel in the Mission District.

However, the band has never performed at Bimbo’s and Bleeker has actually never stepped foot in the venerable North Beach venue.

“I’m very excited to play at Bimbo’s—it seems like it has such a cool vibe,” said Bleeker. “All the photos I’ve seen of the place just gives it this legendary kind of feel. I’ve been in the Bay Area for a decade now, so I’m almost nearing local status, which makes these San Francisco shows so much fun. I think we’re all super jazzed to be bookending our West Coast tour with another gig here. It’s going to be fun. And different, for sure.”

Torrey siblings to bring shoegaze magic to Make Out Room

Originally published in the SF Examiner on February 28

While the entire musical world might be at our fingertips now, thanks to streaming services and the internet, there are still few better methods of discovering amazing new bands than having a cool older sibling who knows about music.

That time-honored tradition is what led to the creation of Torrey, a band composed of Kelly Gonsalves, his younger sister Ryann and three other members. The band will be playing on Friday at the Make Out Room as part of an album release party for its second full-length record.

“Oh, I definitely got to piggyback off all the hard work that Kelly was doing tracking down music when we were young,” said Ryann Gonsalves, who is four years younger than Kelly. “He was going on all these torrenting websites and making mixes and I would get to benefit from the trickle down of all that. I’d listen to that music, and just be like, ‘My god, this is awesome.’”

Growing up in the East Bay, Kelly said, there was always music playing in the Gonsalves household from bands such as the B-52s and the Cranberries. In the early 2000s, he discovered the albums of indie rock bands such as the Strokes and Wolf Parade, falling further in love with music and inspiring him to pick up the guitar.

Kelly began writing short compositions and sending them to Ryann, who was also exploring music. Eventually, the two started collaborating together, and Torrey was born in 2018. They released an EP in 2019, and their first full-length album, “Something Happy” came out in 2021.

Their latest album, “Torrey,” will debut on March 8, and it features some of the band’s most robust, layered and fully-realized songs to date. The Gonsalves siblings worked closely with Matt Ferrara, lead singer of San Francisco band The Umbrellas, to produce tracks that are teeming with different elements and rich in texture, resulting in gorgeous dreampop and shoegaze creations.

“By the time we were ready to work with [Ferrara] , Ryann and I had these songs that were pretty much complete, but we knew we wanted to add more to them,” said Kelly Gonzalves. “We wanted to include these flourishes and gave him (Ferrera) a lot of creative freedom to include synths and keyboards and maybe some guitar solos. It was important for us to be collaborative in that regard.”

While the first two Torrey albums were self-released, the latest LP is being issued on Slumberland Records, a legendary Oakland label that has long been a champion of local groups.

A collection of ethereal tracks that channel white noise and dissonant feedback into gorgeous, atmospheric landscapes, the new self-titled album evokes much of the great past Slumberland acts, such as Black Tambourine, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and Frankie Rose.

Although the songs have disparate elements — scrawling waves of noise with stirring, uplifting melodies — the contrasts work in a strangely compelling way, a reflection of the Gonsalves’ siblings differing, yet complementary approaches.

“Of course we grew up together, but we’re very different people and I think that works in so many positive ways,” said Ryann Gonsalves. “It’s been super interesting to go back and forth with these different ideas and to be discussing different moods and themes. It really turns into this fun, wild-card puzzle, where we balance each other out. Somehow it all works.”

While Kelly typically draws the sonic foundation of each song, Ryann will provide melodies and lyrics. Although Ryann’s lyrics are deeply personal, they’re written in a manner that is more opaque and mysterious, providing opportunities for listeners (even Kelly) to interpret them through their own perspectives.

“I kind of make my own meanings to what Ryann writes,” her brother said. “I’m in the headspace of playing guitar and coming up with chord progressions and when Ryann adds lyrics they take on this different impression for me.”

While the duo were responsible for writing all the songs on the band’s latest album, Torrey has now grown into a five-piece live band, featuring Sinclair Riley on drums, Adam Honingford on lead guitar, and Susie Chinisci on synths and backing vocals.

Now both living in Oakland, Ryann and Kelly are just one more element of a resurgent Bay Area indie rock scene — a tight-knit, cohesive group of acts, many of them which are featured on Slumberland Records (Chime School, The Umbrellas and Papercuts, to name a few.)

“I feel like being on Slumberland is sort of like coming full circle for us,” said Ryann Gonsalves. “One of the first bands I really fell in love with was Veronica Falls, who were signed to Slumberland at the time. To end up on the same label as a band that inspiring, and to be part of this group with so many of our friends — it just feels right.”