It's no surprise that Sex, Death, Cassette was released on Asthmatic Kitty. Multi-faceted and experimental yet easily accessible, Rafter matches its label-mates in quirky, humble pop. Part of the beauty of this record lies in its catchy ditties, most of which are under two minutes and run laps around the mind even after one listen. Complete with hand claps, saxophones, and distortion, many of the songs move seamlessly from one to another, creating a medley that gives this record a coherence beyond instrumentation and vocal stylings. Rafter's voice woos and coos, is mellow and at times seductive, while still successfully matching the more bouncy and jangly tracks. A loverly approach to sex and a lighthearted look at death, Rafter's coy, honest, and even humorous lyrics shine in tracks like "I Love You Most Of All", a 30-second evolution of a light guitar strum and repeated lines, and "No-One Home Ever" a simplification of birth and an idealized death ("I'll get shot in a robbery, I'll be run over by a train, I'll be lost at sea"). The only theme that remains obscure is "cassette", but maybe that's there for indie cred.

Rafter on [MySpace]

The best way to categorize the latest album from Intelligence is to call it zombie rock. In fact, Herman Munster would've had them play his house party, and they probably would've been featured on a retro episode of The Twilight Zone. Dark and ominous without even coming close to frightening, Deuteronomy recalls a range of '60s sounds, including the organ and a Dick Dale-style surf guitar, all postured in a sort of post-punk fashion. Intelligence keeps its distance from a fully retro sound with noisy, distorted guitars and vocals, banging cymbals, and the occasional use of a drum machine. And while many of the melodies are based around harmonious organs, it's definitely not pop; Lars Finburg's discordant vocal stylings work successfully to disrupt any sense of security so as to push the sound as far away from 'easy listening' as possible. But that doesn't stop the album from being approachable. "Dating Cops" has a funny yelling imitation of sirens, and with a base of a rather low-key organ melody, "Tubes" has a somewhat jarring, nasal "Fuck!" and "Shut up!" that's humorous enough to merit a laugh from someone at the end of the track. This is the kind of inventive album that draws people to shows and propels yet another Seattle-based band to national recognition.

Intelligence on [MySpace]