The following post is courtesy of my co-desk jockey, Jerod:
There were two kinds of American indie-rock/college rock in the 1980s—the bands that everyone knew, R.E.M., Camper Van Beethoven, Husker Du, et al. Yeah, I know, those bands were yours. You were there first. Before everyone else figured out how great they were. But then there was that awful night in 1987, you were walking past the local lame-fraternity/sorority bar and from inside you heard a group of drunken idiots singing every word to “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” at the top of their lungs. That was rough.
Lucky for you that you kept a secret stash of bands under your bed for just such an emergency. Bands you could still claim as yours, bands like Let’s Active, The dbs, Dumptruck, Love Tractor. Those doofuses from fraternity row will never get their hands on these bands. These bands are true, still slugging it out on their own terms, still making music for no other reason than to make music. These bands never let you down.
If he were around 20 years ago, Damon Huss would have been part of your secret stash. But he’s here today to keep a tradition alive of American indie rock that never aspired or cared to be anything more than indie rock. Like his underground heroes, Damon rolls the 8-track and throws it all out there for you in all its ragged, jangly, droney, angular, glory. The songs take their time and deliver on their own terms. I have no idea when this was recorded, it could have been yesterday it could have been 20 years ago. Whenever it was recorded, let’s just be thankful that there’s still an honest and great songwriter out there writing in a style that was pretty much forgotten after the underground heroes of the ’80s turned off the tape machines. So here’s Damon Huss, go get him, go hide him under your bed. He’s all yours.
Never timid on the mic, The Gray Kid (born Steve Cooper) unleashes the sexy falsetto and back-pocket rhymes over some giant beats. Kinda like a Pharrell for the Silverlake set. Like that means anything to most of you…don’t worry, Ann Arbor, you’ll like him, too. As CD Baby customer reviewer Tim Bones says: “Joint is flavorful. Makes you want to impregnate your local librarian.” And for the Sunday afternoon version, go to The Gray Kid’s 
Victoria is a charming London in miniature (even the police sirens have that European wail rather than the standard North American whistle) carved into the brilliant and wet wilds on the southern tip of Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada. The subtexts for the city, if you’re into that kind of thing, abound: a bite-sized cosmopolis carved into the heart of darkness, a town with the will of a city, a beachhead in the Garden of Eden. Shapes and Sizes are fantastic at finding that subtext, whether they’re trying or not. They hit rhythms and mimic styles like urbane pros, but they experiment like small-town kids with only themselves as inspiration. “Wilderness†lumbers along like a pessimistic comedian, hinging itself on a medley of downer horns, a charmingly amateur chorus of whistles, and the line “Susan, you can’t be tribal leader ‘coz your personality’s wrong.†It provides the perfect segueway to the melancholy opening (but not so down that it can’t hold a few handclaps!) to “Island’s Gone Bad,†but halfway through a party breaks out to the exuberant shout “I like eating fruit off of trees when I’m with you!†Aw shucks, guys, the feeling’s mutual.
Ok, so, let’s not talk about band names. Instead, let’s talk about yesterday being the first day of summer and how, as we drive I-75 tomorrow headed Up North, “Jimmy Down the Well” will match our sunshiney moods (if not the rainy weather). Thanks, from the north of Michigan, to Paul, who sent us this suggestion from the north of England.
I must be losing it. I swear I’ve posted about Mighty Six Ninety before, but I can’t find any trace of them on the site. Feeling in a particularly ’80s mood today? Then queue up some John Hughes on Netflix and get Mighty Six Ninety rockin’ on the hi-fi. Mighty Six Ninety, an L.A. five-piece, is named after the great San Diego AM station—a Top 40 channel that dabbled early on in New Wave and post-Punk. This Mighty Six Ninety would make its namesake proud. Check the New Order bassline in “Northern Border,” and the soaring vocals complete with ’80s Alphaville-esque affectation. “Leave This World” reassembles a Freuer guitar riff and runs it head on into a more shimmering moment of The Cure. Throw in a bit of attitude from The Smiths and Ultravox synths and you’d think you’re listening to a cassette recording of Richard Blade’s show twenty years ago. Fittingly, they’re making their