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Pleasure “Out Of Love” – You know that point in some songs (most especially new wave tunes) when the sentiment of the lyric overcomes the singer and they reflexively close their eyes for a moment and swoon as they hit a higher note? It’s a glorious thing, and most good songs about new infatuation tend to do this at least once, if not a few times over. This new single by Pleasure sounds as though it was engineered to maximize the impact of these swooning moments, and so when they come, the rush is exhilarating and sorta exhausting. “Out Of Love” is a sublime mix of gleeful synthpop bounce and sad-eyed melancholy, and though there are some echoes of Blondie’s “Heart Of Glass,” it tosses out that song’s cynicism and wounded pride in favor of an entirely earnest sweetness. (Click here for the Pleasure MySpace page.) (Originally posted 3/5/2007)

Hilary Duff “Danger” – If Hilary Duff is correct, and the dude she’s singing about was indeed born in ’74, that would make him about 33 right now. Given that she’s 20 years old, she’s probably not wrong to sense a bit of danger in this pairing — it’s not an outlandish or uncommon age gap, but it is a bit inappropriate. The song is most likely being sung about a handsome teacher, boss, or celebrity, but for some reason the harsh, sleazy Eurodisco sound of the track makes me imagine some filthy creep with the most hideous mustache in the world. Like, a coked-up hipster mutant dripping with 22 strains of VD. The type of guy who would make Terry Richardson (NSFW link!) seem like a classy hunk. I’d like to think that every line of this song is a staggering understatement, and that the former Lizzy McGuire is in for a reallllllllllllllly dark year. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.) (Originally posted 4/17/2007)

Muscles “Chocolate, Raspberry, Lemon & Lime” – This one’s a bit of an electro-pop Rorschach test — hyper-twee declaration of new love, or possessive, regressive creep-out? It mostly depends on how you would feel if someone told you that they wished that they could shrink you down to pocket-size so they could “play with you all the time.” Either way, the synths are about as fruity as the title suggests, and it’s a good time even if you’re freaked out by the lyrics. (Click here for Muscles’ MySpace page.) (Originally posted 12/5/2006)

James Rabbit “The Whole World Sleeps In Your Bed” – Whereas pretty much every other indie band of their generation is out working a tiresome hustle, James Rabbit display a refreshing lack of careerism. There’s no James Rabbit MySpace page, they barely tour, and they have no record label, much less a PR company. They just churn out a few albums every year, gradually building up an extensive discography for no one in particular, sort of like Bob Pollard in his pre-Bee Thousand days. Each James Rabbit record is better than the last, with incremental improvements in every aspect of its conception, performance, and production. “The Whole World Sleeps In Your Bed” may be their finest song to date, rocking merrily along with a memorable Beatlesque guitar hook and a typically exuberant lead vocal that careens from one killer lyric to the next. The song eventually drifts off from its hyperactive main body into a gentle reverie, but unlike other James Rabbit tunes that follow a similar trajectory, the song crashes in its final moments, tripling its angst as if to make up for the brief period of calmness. (Click here to get a free copy of James Rabbit’s new album Colossuses.) (Originally posted 2/2/2007)

Citizen Helene “‘Til Tomorrow” – It’s only one guitar and one voice overdubbed into a gorgeous harmony, but it’s enough to build this perfect image in my mind. It’s a small apartment, a walk up in some old building with a gray stone facade. There are books in piles, too many to fit on the shelves. There’s empty tea cups on a coffee table, and a newspaper from three days ago folded out of shape. The decor is a bit scattered, but there’s a lot of browns and oranges — curtains, rug, pillows. The window is open, and rain drizzles in fits and starts. It’s a bit too humid, but there’s no fan, no air conditioner. There’s a couch and chairs, but you’re sitting on the floor by the window, and when a bit of breeze drifts in on the 1:13 mark, it might just be the best thing you feel all day. (Click here for the Citizen Helene MySpace page.) (Originally posted 6/12/2007)