The Figurines, MSTRKRFT, Skybox, We Are Scientists

THE FIGURINES
Skeleton, the new release by Denmark’s The Figurines, finally arrived Stateside this year to a flurry of critical praise from heavyweights like Pitchfork, The New York Times and Vice magazine. The album (originally released in 2003) is full of the Strokes-ish rhythm guitar riffs that have become ubiquitous, but they take a more overtly tuneful angle on the idea — not content to resort to the formulaic approach that has plagued indie rock as of late. Singer Christian Hjolm certainly has his Issac Brock moments and certain changes are going to bring the word “Pavement” to the lips of listeners, but taken as a whole Skeleton is fundamentally their own. From the charming piano balladry on the opening track to the driving, anthemic “The Wonder” to the gorgeously cathartic “Release Me On The Floor”, The Figurines have put together an album that will sound as good in three more years as it does today. (Appearing with Skybox as part of the Chicago Innerview June Post-Intonation Spotlight Show at Beat Kitchen on June 24) –text: Don Bartlett

MSTRKRFT
One of the big-time status symbols in the music world these days is getting MSTRKRFT to rearrange your song for the club setting. The duo from Toronto have an unholy ability to translate the crunch of rock into triumphant futuristic disco mayhem that can make even the most stoic of shoegazers shake their asses. They’ve lent their talents to the likes of Bloc Party, Wolfmother and The Kills, but Jesse F. Keeler (of Death From Above 1979) and former hip hop producer Al-P — the men behind MSTRKRFT — are already proving they need the help of no band to turn rockers loose in front of the speakers. Their soon-to-be-released debut album The Looks is a delicious blend of unrestrained dancefloor sleaze with tawdry come-ons, grinding keys, resonant beats and a cocky attitude that makes everything sound that much better. Simply put, MSTRKRFT know the secret to the art of moving butts. (Appearing with Chromeo and Bald Eagle at Smartbar on June 23) –text: Noah Levine

SKYBOX
One of the best albums I’ve heard this year is Arco Isis by this obscure quintet which relocated to Chicago a bit over a month ago. Aside from having some of the best cover art I’ve seen in a while, the album is interesting from post to wire, a wildly diverse journey through musical styles. “The Caravan Cabaret” may not be the best choice of opening tracks in this age of limited attention spans, but it works well in the arc of an album in which the context includes Radiohead-esque darkness (“Infinity and Blue Skies”), driving indie-pop (“Various Kitchen Utensils”), and psychedelic theatrics (“Cue Conversation”). Arco Isis is accessible and melodic, but it’s also an album that demands to be listened to as a complete work. If you want the CliffsNotes, catch them live, where singer Tim Ellis’ charisma helps it all make perfect sense. (Appearing with The Figurines as part of the Chicago Innerview June Post-Intonation Spotlight Show at Beat Kitchen on June 24) –text: Don Bartlett–photo: Melissa Burgess

WE ARE SCIENTISTS
Press kits are funny things, especially when a line such as “intelligent, danceable post-punk rock ‘n’ roll” is used to describe a band. Are you thinking, “Which of these doesn’t belong with the other?” I was too. But in the case of the New York-based trio We Are Scientists, those exact elements mixed together create the band’s formula. If you just heard the name, you’d probably expect to hear songs about relative motion or molecular physics. Well, no, not really. With Love and Squalor, the band’s debut album (the title taken from a J.D. Salinger short story) is a high-speed train racing up and down the French Alps. But aboard this manic train sit questions and frustrations. “What’s the point of making all this noise if nothing’s ever getting heard?” wails singer/guitarist Keith Murray on the album closer, “Lousy Reputation.” Boys, it’s safe to say that people are starting to listen. (Appearing with The Double at Metro on June 21) –text: Chris Castaneda