By now it should be apparent that we at the Austinist think that Fleet Foxes are absolutely, 100% badass. After all, in the last three months we've touted the excellence of not only their eponymous debut LP, but also have we waxed eloquent on their Sun Giant EP—reading those reviews makes it pretty clear that this is a band whose return to Austin falls into the highly-anticipated category. Simply said, preceding this quintet is a reputation as a throwback to kinder, less electronic musical times, and they have garnered critical acclaim far and wide not only for their studio work, but also for their consistently-satisfying live show. The modest northwesterners use cascades of vocal harmonizing, led by talented frontman Robin Pecknold, and well-arranged instrumentation to make them a group more than worthy of Mohawk's hump day headline. ... [continue]

Los Angeles, for all its immensity, is one of the few American cities which can truly be said to have its own, isolated identity. And we'll be able to get a nice taste of that tonight, as The City of Angels attacks Austin with a couple of the best bands that freakishly large city has to offer. Headlining is No Age, whose recently released sophomore LP, Nouns, has been lauded far and wide as one of the year's top albums. No Age is the brainchild of dynamic duo Randy Randall and Dean Allen Spunt, who use their exceptional names to craft churning lo-fidelity punk music that inspires critical analysis rather than mere dancefloor spasmosis—consider this the thinking person's punk rock.... [continue]

It's always nice when the opportunity to catch a little stand-up comedy with your tunes presents itself, and, with a revamped format for Bonnaroo, as well as our very own Fun Fun Fun Fest, the idea of pairing these two very different but equally awesome forms of entertainment is becoming more common. Tonight we see this new era of show-going in action as The Fuck Yeah Tour, more politely known as the F Yeah Tour, rumbles into the Mohawk with an intriguing mix of music, spoken word, and comedy. ... [continue]

Devon Williams—onetime frontman for the now-defunct Los Angeles punk band Osker, and a well-renowned source of angsty attitude and unpredictability on stage—headlines the Saturday set at Mohawk. Williams, fresh off his solo debut, the curiously-titled Carefree, has lightened up and matured over the years, cutting some of the edginess and anger away from his music and performance, as he now crafts not so much punk as spritely-though-understated pop-rock. But don't worry—there's still a chance he'll berate the audience or become otherwise flammable during the show, and if that makes him a poor man's Cat Power, then let's happily see so for ourselves.... [continue]

Some of us out there long for the days of lo-fi, before everything was digital and silky-smooth, when tape hiss roared in the background and the vocals were scratchier than anything a real human voicebox could create, and guitars were crunchy and ugly—you know, the time when the technology of recording music was so unrefined it lent the music a spontaneous kind of character, roughing up the sounds rather than prettying them. For years, those of us who missed the days before Danger Mouse flocked to deliberately lo-fi acts like The Mountain Goats, The Moldy Peaches' Kimya Dawson, and M. Ward, before all of them decided the lure of 21st century recording was too much to ignore. But the good news is, there's a new hero on the lo-fi block: Columbus, Ohio's Times New Viking write catchy rock music that just so happens to be covered in a delightful veil of recording ugliness. They have garnered praise throughout the music community for their tunes, and their loud, unpolished studio work brings to mind DIY punk and the days of audio cassettes melting in the front seat of your car. And you can witness their refusal to go pretty tonight at Emo's.... [continue]

Minneapolis' intriguing and mostly-instrumental outfit, Dosh, headlines a deep and fascinating set Thursday night at Emo's. Dosh, aptly named after lead soundmaker Martin Dosh (sometimes drummer and co-songwriter for Andrew Bird), blends the electronic with folk and jazz and postrock and whatever else you can think of to form an energetic brand of ambiance—his new album, Wolves and Wishes, has received enthusiastic reviews, and the Martin Medeski & Wood comparisons lie not too far beneath the surface. Surely, this will be a show where the focus is multi-formed and looping is plentiful, as the absence of regular vocals will keep the eyes moving from instrument to instrument, allowing the musicianship and electronic handiwork of those on stage (often just Dosh himself) to shine through.... [continue]

Happy fun-time Mates of State deliver their carousing popstar status to Emo's Outside this Friday night, in what is sure to be a rollicking good time of dancing and cheering and drinking fruit-flavored beverages. Using cooing dual vocalists, Mates of State have carved themselves a nice little pocket next to the likes of Los Campesinos!, New Pornographers, and Architecture in Helsinki, and they may be the best of the genre. Burgeoning breakthrough hit "My Only Offer," from their just-released album Re-Arrange Us, is sure to be a crowd-pleaser.... [continue]

Everyone and their brother has heard of Wolf Parade. And most of their brothers have also heard of Sunset Rubdown. And people here and there and all about have heard of acts such as Destroyer, Handsome Furs, and Swan Lake. So why has Frog Eyes, yet another band somehow related to the Wolf Parade family ( *see the end of this article for the ridiculous relation), withstood the onslaught of recognition granted to their brethren, coming out clean and eccentric with most of their anonymity intact? Well, a pretty good guess would be that Frog Eyes' lantern-jawed lead man, Carey Mercer, appears to be a bit of a crazy bastard, and that they predate the Wolf Parade phenomenon, and therefore weren't privy to all the hype which comes from "popular band offshoot status." But if you listen really carefully to Sunset Rubdown's latest album, you can hear Mercer's influence all over it, from the freedom to rant and rave, to the unrelenting energy, to the sheer madman brilliance of it all. So, if you want to see a man who has had an influence on a whole bunch o' good, while not truly getting his own due, tune in to Club DeVille on Thursday.... [continue]

It's really saying something if, as a band, you can undergo as much blistering criticism as have the French Kicks, and lived to tell the tale. But that something that's being said is a little bit more difficult to pin down. Is this band, lambasted regularly for coming from New York—even though, in the eyes of their harshest critics, their New York-ness is the very reason they're of any importance—deserving of all the shit-talk, or is there something fundamental to their approach that makes them worthy of their dedicated and often rabid fan-base? You'll have the opportunity to decide for yourself tonight at the Mohawk.... [continue]

At first, it'd be easy to mistake Fleet Foxes for old-school My Morning Jacket, or even present-day commercial heroes Band of Horses. After all, they've got that Americana thing going, it seems at times that they're drowning in reverb, you'd assume everyone's got long hair, et cetera. But if their excellent debut EP wasn't enough to make it clear that this Washington quintet is a much different beast—and a gorgeous one at that—their first full-length should do the trick.... [continue]

Renowned for excellent sound quality and a feeling of coziness that belies its substantial size, The Parish Room has been Sixth Street's favorite little concert hall for quite a while now, and this Friday they'll be hosting yet another quality show: four of Austin's most interesting and diverse pop acts. Headlining is the clap-happy and catchy Built by Snow, a band who often channel an updated version of cultural phenomenon Weezer in their tunes--they will soon be heading into the studio to record their second CD, and this show is sure to provide some pleasant previews of the new material.... [continue]

Beerland, known for music, old school video games, and, um, beer, will host a kind and compact cluster of five bands this Friday night, with all five bands making names for themselves within the confines of our fine city. Headlining will be The Diagonals, a subtle and scratchy outfit that, despite their somewhat workmanlike stylings while on stage, carries an innate danceability. Beyond that, Diagonals vocalist Steve Garcia, in some of his more speed-speak moments, has been compared to a young Michael Stipe...you know, before Michael Stipe had that whole fifteen years of boredom thing. ... [continue]

Friday night will be quite the night at Antone's, as indie-pop wonderboys Tapes 'n Tapes take the stage with their pleasantly simple hooks and choruses. On the backs of their debut release, The Loon, the Minnesota quartet forged themselves a river of hype that extended all the way from Blogland to Spin to Rolling Stone, as the album borrowed liberally from stalwarts like the Pixies and Pavement and made something brand-new from the parts. And now, with the release of their somewhat tentative sophomore album, Walk It Off, they are establishing themselves as a band with a solid and immediately recognizable sound, not to mention a live show that has garnered no shortage of raves.... [continue]

This Sunday night holds one the most dazzling shows of the year, as the ultra-critically-acclaimed Caribou and Fuck Buttons take the stage in a whir of electronic and live action wonderfulness. Opening up will be Fuck Buttons, who, for their part, are one of the most fascinating new musical outfits to make a splash in 2008. Their noise-driven electronic music is almost jarringly abrasive on its scratchy surface, yet rewards the patient listener with a hint of melody—truth be told, their new album Street Horrrsing is one of our recent faves. So, unquestionably, their presence on the bill should keep too many people from straggling in late through Emo's doors.... [continue]

The Mohawk on Friday is going to be absolutely busting out with music, as one of their patently awesome two-stages-for-one-ticket deals hits the scene. Getting the big print and final time slot on the two stages are Elf Power and Belaire, but they're just small pieces of what looks to be a good long night of song. So we'll break this down all methodical-like so you won't have to worry about missing anything, and you'll finally learn the wonderfulness that is six live (and actually quite good!) bands for less than an Alexander Hamilton. ... [continue]

You've got to love it when, long after the lineup is set and the schedules are printed, the opening act takes a quantum leap in the quality of their music, and, for all intents and purposes, stacks a show with TWO truly engaging acts rather than your customary one. And that's exactly what's happened here, as New Zealand natives The Ruby Suns' new album, Sea Lion, is so badass that getting to the Mohawk early enough to see them open up is imperative. And, in a nod to their previously determined spot as a Friday night headliner, Throw Me the Statue is a delightfully tight and catchy band belying their Seattle roots. So, hell, The Ruby Suns AND Throw Me the Statue? Even if you haven't caught word of these bands yet, they're both damn good, and for such a quality lineup this show is about as inexpensive as they come.... [continue]

Let's not mince words: when Cat Power comes to town, it's pretty much mandated by law that you attend. This is because not only will you be able to witness one of the most shockingly talented vocalists in the world, but you also may learn a thing or two. For those who don't remember, let's do a brief recap of what we learned last time the timeless (and timelessly eccentric) soulstress was in town: that Chan Marshall, the woman behind the voice, is on steroids, that she was born deaf, that she wants to shoot her monitors, that she likes to apologize to the crowd, that steroids make you angry (and that's why they make you stronger), and on and on she went with her pearls of wisdom. Pretty much, she's a spectacularly unpredictable bounty of non-sequiturs and stunning musicianship.... [continue]

Benevento/Russo Duo, believe it or not, are made up of two people. They hail from the north. And they can fill a room with noise. But don't you even dare compare them to The White Stripes, because they would probably punch you in the face. Because first of all, Joe Russo's drums serve as a powerful and unrelenting backdrop of technical precision, and, secondly, Marco Benevento's emphatic and and purposeful keyboard--yes, keyboard--stuffs the foreground. And if that isn't enough to distance them from what is perhaps music's most famous duo, with Benevento and Russo, don't expect to find any vocals lying around, and don't expect to see any shortage of energy, as the band pack as much action into two people as possible. And that action you'll be able to find this Saturday night at The Parish Room.... [continue]

Sometimes you hear bands that are just meant, like, by the sheer nature of their music, for the soundtrack of a badass film--a preferably artsy film, and quite possible violent. Surely, when that movie is indomitably un-Hollywood, it's makes for all the better listening, as the somewhat problematically named Horse + Donkey headline a nice little set tonight at Lamberts Downtown Barbeque, a fine dining establishment and music house in the heart of the 2nd Street district. Sounding not terribly unlike a European-influenced and pop-suppressant version of recent indie hypesters Tapes N Tapes, Horse + Donkey mushes a churningly forward-moving bass rhythm, jangling surfer guitars, steady percussion, and confident vocals into music it'd be no shock hearing as the credits roll. ... [continue]

The here-and-there national media coverage that Wait Til the Ice Melts, an electronic music compilation, has received seems to suggest, not without a hint of mockery, that it's somehow a shock that the massive state of Texas can come up with anything beyond yokel-driven acoustic guitar and other brands of slack-jawed musical idiocy. Maybe it's the subtitle of the compilation which is causing the problem, as "New Music" doesn't necessarily imply electronic music, or wordlessness in any way; or maybe, conversely, it's the presence of the word "Texas" which is causing the problem, as that five-letter word seems to evoke in non-residents a sense of simplemindedness, Bushism, pickup trucks, cowboy boots, and hootenanny tomfoolery. But to get past these preconceived notions is to dig into Wait Til the Ice Melts, Exponential Records' way of doing us all a favor by culling from hundreds of possibilities a quick and satisfying mix of electronica from contiguous America's largest state. ... [continue]