Globe trekking to exotic destinations where a masquerading drum line provides the gyrating rhythms, a golden-glow sunset silhouettes the band, and a glistening sea of blue provides the backdrop, it's no wonder Friendly Fires feel like they've been touched by the "Kiss of Life". So jealous...so very jealous.

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A few weeks back Canadian outfit Metric continued the epic, fantasy ride they've been on since releasing Fantasies by taking the stage at the Ed Sullivan Theater to play for David Letterman, his audience, and oh...millions of people probably watching at home. No pressure...no pressure at all. Did they freak out? This behind the scenes clip the band shot suggests, "yes..yes they did...a little". And apparently they deal with the epic anticipation by yelling at homeless man on the street. Must have worked, as we recall Metric doing a flawless rendition of "Help, I'm Alive" (watch it HERE).

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Hey guys! It's time once again for the next edition in our T.G.I.Mixtape series. On this, the 25th edition, we have some great new music from some of the hottest names in indie music. Artists like Regina Spektor, Maia Hirasawa, Jonsi and Alex and much much more. Enjoy!

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Coveted sunshine descends on the city, glinting off the buildings and the storefronts, transporting us to the promised summerland. As unimaginative as it is to talk about the weather, this summer's been so crazy that every warm day feels like it's the first one. But it's almost August, and these days are no longer the harbingers of summer, they're waning and precious, reminders that this is all you have, so you better make the most of them. In other words, perfect days to listen to Headlights.

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One of Jersey's more renowned noise rock acts takes a trip down the shore, where planes streak plumes across the sky blue sky. Yes, it's simple, but the planes move in such drastic, death defying, and violent ways...all in the name of their graceful trace of billowy smoke on an infinite canvas. Later, the video takes on more kaleidoscopic qualities, with a musical metaphor of some sort serving as its' conclusion, which is all well and good. We're sort of in to the general dare-deviling of its' first half though.

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Here's a soccer stadium sized sing-along that resurfaces an awfully familiar sound; one I know you've been missing since Street Sweeper guitarist Tom Morello was last swanking tasty licks in his now dismantled "other band". Here The Coup's Boots Riley relishes in sharp witted lyrics, delivered with an even sharper tongue...all that while Tom makes it known exactly why he's one of the greatest guitarists in rock and roll history.

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In the giddy hodgepodge of the current music scene, there's one noticeable schism. Some bands embrace the future - drum machines, vocoders, space-age synthesizers, 8-bit, countless remixes, laptop-pop for Judy Jetson and the gang. Then the reactionaries harken to the past - stripped down guitars, Americana twang, no-frills folk, organic acoustics and honkey tonk singalong songs. Inevitably, there will be a war: cowboys vs robots duking it out in a massive arena, Wilco takes on the Crystal Castles, Deer Tick faces off with Wavves, Bowerbirds duke it out with Cut Copy...the presale will sell out in seconds, we will cheer with uninhibited glee as the mood of modern music is decided once and for all!

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It's worth noting that Blue Roses is perfectly named, though that's not necessarily a good thing. Laura Groves' silky voice and melancholy music is the sound of blue flowers, perhaps lying on a lacy tablecloth, wrapped in a velvet ribbon. Maybe it's even raining outside. It's softly pretty and melodramatic, it's a perfect embodiment of tungsten-toned moods and wistful moments...but it's also somewhat clich, a stock image on a postcard, instantly familiar.

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Watching Beep Beep storm their way through an imaginative set at Saddle Creek's '09 SXSW showcase, one gets the idea that this Omaha based band don't really give a damn what their audience thinks of them. This of course is a good thing, as their brave and bold demeanor gives this wiley-eyed outfit the freedom to express themselves in snazzy fits of flailing, oft-kilter pop. Over the course of this concert, Beep Beep see saw back and forth between moments of order, and whirlwind breakdowns that are more chaotic then tornado alley in a summer storm. Add to that a few flashy stage moves, a flamboyant wit between tunes, and the red hot heat of an Austin Texas atmosphere, and Beep Beep's SXSW performance is a unique and devilish enterprise indeed.

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Wielding the kind of glitchy, disco tracks that side on the slightly twisted side of life, U.K. trio We Have Band decided they'd need an equally contorted approach when they set out to fashion a video for "You Came Out".

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It's safe to say we're all pretty over the Beatles vs Rolling Stones dilemma, but the music enthusiasts of today need something new and exciting to bicker about. So today, your loyal Baeble interns are waging the war between the sugary sounds of twee vs the dissonant ruckus of experimental.

If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops, surely everyone would be grinning from ear to ear, bouncing around on streamer-decorated pogo sticks and listening to twinkly twee tunes. Precious and precocious, twee music is full of good intentions but comes off as the high-pitched shrieking sound of cupcakes colorful and delightful, but ultimately empty and nauseating when consumed in large quantities. With so many musical acts falling all over themselves to reach your coveted eardrums, innovation holds the only appeal. Weird for weird's sake can be almost as terrible as cute for cute's sake, but nothing beats stumbling across a band that, to quote Hunter Thompson, "is too weird to live, too rare to die, and too good to pass up."

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The debut from Japandroids sounds nothing like their name might suggest. In liu of bleeps and synth soaked dance tunes, the rock-ish duo pump our ears full of brash, distorted chord-based rock. And although their moniker suggests man-killing machines from the other side of the world, they write pretty raw human emotion quite well, and hail from our northern neighbor, Canada. Post-Nothing is more like post-post-punk, emulating the raw edge of late eighties punk without getting too out of control, and washing out the alternative punk of the early 2000's with tons of fuzz.

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He started studying the piano at 5, and never stopped. Singing would come into play a little later, and an inspiring voice would find its' way across the speaker wires. That's how Chris Garneau explains the dawn of his poignant bouts of sincere, melancholy. We sat down with the Brooklyn musician when he visited the Guest Apartment, and learned a little bit about him, his album El Radio, and his thoughts on playing live.

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Like nature's most delicate creations, the songs Brooklyn based songwriter Chris Garneau dream up find their beauty in the gauzy vulnerability of their makeup, and the frail, compositional form that they take. In fact, we contend that his recently released album El Radio bring with it careful handling instructions that read something like, "please be mindful of time and place when you have at these dainty, pop conceptions. All could be lost in the face of any disturbance in the atmosphere above a whisper".

Which is why we approached Garneau's Guest Apartment session with care and control. Keeping things quite as a crypt for Garneau, our brave and bold guest strolled through three songs sweet and delicate, his slow swell of piano chords and delayed vocal lines leaving us hanging right with him through the thick and thin of every song. Here Garneau sings of a longing for winter, where only moments before he was wiping summer's sweat from his brow ("Winter Song #1"). Here he sings of an end, but love's steadfast endurance ("Hands on the Radio"). Here he visits his formative writing days, unearthing a tune from his teenage-dom ("Try Me"). Here is a place where feeling and magic whip around the Baeble Guest Apartment like it hasn't before.

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There is no doubt that the San Francisco natives, indie folk-pop sweethearts known as The Dodos have mastered the craft and a genre brought into mainstream consciousness by The Shins, but which still lingers at the top of the indie rock radar: a full, lush world of acoustics and strings, layers of arrangements and complexity in what ends up becoming touching pop songs. On their third and latest album Time to Die, The Dodos show a side that echoes the fragility of pieces from their last beautiful album Visiter, but with a more concentrated, cohesive force, a tightened sound and a confidence they well deserve -Laura Yan

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Staten Island's darling young indie rockers and Baeble favorites, Cymbals Eat Guitars have been on quite a journey toward fame. After being tagged Best New Music and a raving review from Pitchfork, ABC's Amplified picked up on the upcoming stars and interviewed them, with a little help from our footage of their recent show at the Cake Shop.

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New York band Motel Motel fled the city for this video treatment of New Denver's jangly standout "Coffee". In it, a man finds himself clawing his way out of the earth into a glazing, sun streaked afternoon in the forest. Panning soft to hard focus, the camera adjusts like the video's stunned subject to his new, wooded surroundings. What a tragic pity to have such a place all to ones' self. Thankfully our natural man has fashioned a plan to cure him of his splendid loneliness.

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view more pictures HERE
JellyNYC's latest Pool Party started unlike any other Sunday afternoon this summer...with salsa music. Of course, it was the perfect way to kick off what would be a brutish afternoon. The sun shining, the views breathtaking, and Grupo Fantasmo leading the audience in a swell of salsa beats, even managing to keep the good people of the waterfront dancing well after their performance.

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Seattle natives and indiepop stars Throw Me the Statue sing the sort of perfectly crafted, instantly lovable yet not superficial pop that countless bands aspire to and few can master, with charm and an effortless yet genuine style that they polish to a summer gleam on their sophomore album Creaturesque. It is dreamy and soft, at times catchy with an impossibly enthusiastic force so that certain hooks and choruses produce hand claps and tapping feet, at times with a slow, lush dark fog over these melodic songs.

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As part of their attempt to reach out to the young and musically savvy, ABC is trying their hand at this, by doing a two part feature on The Meat Puppets. (Thankfully, this fares better than the cringe-inducing Brian Williams Deer Tick interview.) Best known for "Oh, Me," and "Lake of Fire," (both eventually covered by Kurt Cobain) the punk/grunge 80s band recounts their roller coaster ride through success and obscurity, drug and alcohol abuse, death, disorder, and other rock band turmoil.

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For some, Sunday might be a day of rest. For those at Pitchfork Festival in Chicago, Sunday was likely the most anticipated, most phenomenal, most mindblowingly stupendous musical day ever. Rapper Pharoahe Monch and minimalist noise-pop Women warmed up crowds. Blitzen Trapper brought us out of the city and into the wild wild west, though nary an ennui-heralding tumbleweed was in sight. Indie heavyweights The Walkmen played favorites like The Rat and In the New Year, and M83 attacked us with heavy-duty walls of sound. Finally, when the lights went down, all bets were off, and the space circus descended, and through the hail of balloons and confetti we could make out the Flaming Lips. Nothing like Wayne Coyne in a giant bubble to round out an amazing weekend. - Nina Mashurova

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Cale Parks, the dainty drummer of bands Aloha and White Williams, has solo ambitions that are out of this world. So far out, in fact, his third release promises to take you away from your messy bedroom and all the way To Swift Mars. Just as I always imagined, the journey to Mars is accompanied by ethereal synthesizers, twinkling piano passages, occasional handclaps, and crystalline electronica. Traveling with Tinkerbell through dreamy constellations sure beats puttering around in one of those pesky, noisy rocket ships.

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John Brown's Body is tackling the indie band lacking necessary finances for touring eternal predicament with a refreshing new campaign. The rising gritty reggae band is teaming up with The Hector Fund to offer fans a series of delights, from unreleased songs and albums to rather more ridiculous company of the band for their various levels of dedication toward the cause.

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Well hello there! Are you ready for the latest edition in our T.G.I.Mixtape series? This week we have some incredible new tracks from artists like Andre 3000, Wilco featuring Feist, Edward Sharpe and many more. So sit back, pour yourself a glass of lemonade and enjoy the music.

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Wavering vocals, fragile piano, and subdued shades of melancholy are the hallmarks of Lightning Dust's latest CD, Infinite Light. The duo weaves poignancy that, if it were more fleshed out, has the potential to be as heartwrenching as some moments on Arcade Fire's Funeral. But when Lightning Dust wants to hurt, it's a quiet hollow mass lodged in your throat or lurking in the pit of your stomach, it's an intimate knowledge of empty moments in lonely apartments.

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If you haven't given some quality headphone time to The Silent Years yet, it's about time. Last summer's release, The Globe was a lovely, elegantly crafted indie pop meditation on themes of universality, providing a hand to hold during the often-lonely tumble through the ever-expanding blackness of outer space. This summer, they've followed it up with the Let Go EP - six flawless songs that provide the perfect summer soundtrack through effortless arrangements, sweet vocals, and carefree tunes that turn every sunny stroll into a scene from a musical. We spent some time on the phone with lead singer Josh Epstein, chatting about signing to a record label, the new EP, the age-old duality of music and lyrics, the amazingness that is Leonard Cohen, and the overabundance of stimulus. - Nina Mashurova

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Enraptured by the screeching punk rock that tore up the stage during last week's pool party, we wandered back to the Waterfront to check out Dirty Projectors and company. The music was noticeably tamer but the crowd swelled, braving the long lines and hot sun, packing every nook to catch a glimpse of the super-hyped Brooklyn band. Crystal Antlers played a solid set, Magnolia Electric was sweet, if sleepy, and anxious anticipation set in for the headliners, who were making a brief homecoming appearance before setting off on tour again.

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In addition to allowing us to film their set at the Cake Shop, Cymbals Eat Guitars also took time to sit down with Baeble, taking us a little closer to the process that created both the band, as well as their phenomenal new record Why There Are Mountains.

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The brittle, unashamedly nineties joyride (think the best of Weezer, Pavement, Modest Mouse, and...er...Pavement...all filing on to the same stage at once) that is NYC outfit Cymbals Eat Guitars' forte gets the live treatment, churning the basement bandbox that is the Cake Shop into a sweaty, delirious mess of screeching vocals, gnarly guitar riffs, and ship shape drum and bass. Why are their mountains? It's a question the band's superbly slapdash performance answered as it unfurled over the course of the evening. They are there to climb, silly...which is exactly what we're anticipating this band to do over the next few months in anticipation of the proper re-release of their stellar debut, Why There Are Mountains, later this Fall on Sister's Den Records. - David Pitz

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Always wondered how artists prepare for an upcoming performance? Well P.O.S video for "Purexed," can explain that all and more. The video displays the Minneapolis rapper making and putting up flyers, tuning and loading instruments, setting up the stage and lastly, performing. The storybook video is shot in a wide range of speeds that blend together to create a unique and engaging perspective on the daily life of a musician. And we thought the most exciting part of a show was the actual performance. P.O.S will be touring this summer on Warped Tour.

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It is difficult, at times, for electro to act as anything except something to throw on in between sets at Webster Hall, a playlist for a dance party intent only on proving one's hipness quotient. But perhaps Cale Parks, drummer of White Williams and Aloha, now an all out solo artist and his resigned, disaffected heartbreak in the expansive electronica landscape of his melodies can attempt to break the mold.

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A boy-girl duo from Baltimore, Wye Oak paint darkly pretty songs with desperate, beautiful bassline and string. Measured hesitation and pause in their tracks heighten the melody and heavy longing in the floating, true vocals on their sophomore album The Knot.

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Dabbling in one spontaneous activity after another, Wheat's newest video for "Change is" certainly defines the significance of change and the solution to avoiding boredom. Just put together a drummer with bunny ears, some people in body paint and others wrapped in Christmas lights and the eyes will never wander. Walking around with a computer at hand and this video on continuous replay might prove to be the most riveting summer day yet.

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Dirty Projectors fans should probably rejoice, Swedish husband and wife duo Wildbirds & Peacedrums share a likeminded experimental, layered play with percussions and unusual cooed layers of vocals as part instrumentation. Not only that, but their flickering rhythms and pulsing vocals, the unpredictable nature of their songs that are part pop, part experimental, part experience and beauty hold a offhand charm that few can mirror (perhaps hinted at in the teasing, cool pop of Lykke Li).

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Forest Fire is band that likes to take its sweet time. They recorded their 9-song album, Survival, over 8 months, and then waited a year between its unofficial online release and the official release (slated for July 20th). Unlike the similarly named British electronica band Friendly Fires, Forest Fire creates sparse folk arrangements that slow down time and luxuriate in negative space.

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see these and many other concert photos HERE.
Day One at the Pitchfork Music Festival was an obvious success, but it proved just a warm up as we nestled in nice and close for quite a number of fantastic performances on Saturday in Chicago.

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The nature tainted, complex acoustic driven Americana that is Motel Motel came to Baeble's Guest Apartment for an interview shortly before their journey to Egypt, not only to play their dust coated songs to an exotic audience, but to teach children workshops on music, and give them what may be their first glimpse of American indie rock. Watch our interview and check out the influences that make Motel Motel's music such a diverse knit of genres and ideas that create the atmosphere of their songs. - laura yan

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Motel Motel carried with them the essence of distant Western lands, faraway stories and their own distinctive identity when they brought a few of their layered songs to our Guest Apartment. From the dusty unexpected burst of the melody of "Harlem," to a new song inspired by a Hemingway short story, in quiet, then insistent ragged pop, catch their performance below and get transported to their vintage scratchy world. - Laura Yan

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see these and many other concert photos HERE.
Always a highlight on the summer calendar, the 2009 Pitchfork Music Festival kicked off this past Friday, with a highly anticipated bang. Although not the most ideal weather for basking in Chicago's Union Park, the four bands slated for opening night - Tortoise, Yo La Tengo, the Jesus Lizard, and Built to Spill, rendered the impeding clouds above meaningless to the thousands who had gathered to kick off the weekend.

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Love The Dodos? We sure do. The San Francisco based folk-indie-pop delightful band create songs that sound like wooden butterflies, a part Fleet Foxes, part Bon Iver, part pure wonderful songs that linger long in your mind.

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The Highline Ballroom is a bit of an unusual venue, in that it has unnervingly clean and gorgeous bathrooms, with unnervingly attentive attendants, and concert waitresses who drift in and out of the crowd during shows, offering drinks high on black trays. Distracting, at points, but not so much when the focus turned from the venue to the bands themselves.

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see these and many other concert photos HERE.
Though I've certainly had reason to play the sorry sort of sourpuss on Siren in the past - too far, too crowded, too trendy, too hot, too much concrete, too little shade...or shades of green - this year's festival brought with it an unexpected, redeeming quality when it took over Coney Island this past Saturday. Maybe it was because suddenly this thing called summer seemed real. Or perhaps the good company, great access, comfy summer temps, and cheap, cold beer did the trick. But if I had money to wager, I'd say the line up of the day had the most to say. Nothing huge, nothing spectacular (thank Siren sharing a date with the mighty Pitchfork Festival for that). Just diverse, solid, and true, offering taste making bits and pieces for any kind of music fan venturing to NYC's most famous of beaches.

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Sean Sullivan -aka Sean Bones - gives the big, lazy beat and slow churning reggae pop of "Dancehall" a grainy, video treatment here. Like any self respecting reggae artist, Bones empowers his listener to yap along, flashing (most of) the lyrics across his skateboard adventures to the record processing plant. All this for one bombastic piece of vinyl.

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There are few things that scream a New York summer weekend as much as free daytime concerts and festival, and we know you've got your Sunday all blocked off for The Dirty Projectors (etc) at the pool party, but please be prepared for an indie music jammed Saturday outdoors as well. That is to say, your favorite New York publication, The Village Voice is throwing a music festival of their own: the Siren Music Festival. It's an all day, all ages, all free affair, set to the backdrop of thrilling roller coasters, exotic carnival fried foods and the entertainment that is Coney Island.

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Man Man attacks their live shows with a frenetic energy that can only come from doing elaborate campfire dances with mischievous, vaguely anthropomorphic pagan deities clad in sparkly athletic gear. They rock classic white tennis outfits, feathers, and war paint. They play without pausing to take a breath. They sound like a pirate invasion, an electroclash polka, an orchestra turned party turned interplanetary zoo. Gravelly-voiced vocalist and resident wild man Honus Honus howls over melodic sax swells, tribal rhythms, high-pitched refrains, creating a cavalcade of sound that wields plenty of skill to match the spectacle.

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With a deft flourish of piano keys and a trio of black-clad backup boys, Diane Birch appeared in our guest apartment and turned it into a dim speakeasy, a lounge brimming with velvet vocals and ethereal melodies. This is truly something you have to see for yourself. The daughter of a preacher man, Birch spent her childhood in Zimbabwe, exposed to choral hymns instead of shiny MTV videos. After moving to America and incorporating contemporary elements into her music, Birch has released her debut album, Bible Belt, and you bet she'll make a believer out of you.

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Welcome to the magical world of the mixtape. This is the 23rd volume in our T.G.I.Mixtape series and we're not going to tell you it's the best one yet, because we always say that and we don't want you to call us liars. So instead let's just say that this mixtape is the most complete and incredible mixtape to date. It feels good to tell the truth. All kidding aside, here are 10 new songs that we hope you will enjoy! So what are you waiting for, get listening. -Greg Lozoff

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It seems anyone with even a passing interest in indie music has a complicated love-hate relationship with Pitchfork. All criticism aside, it should come as no surprise that a website so in touch with today's music chose to take matters into their own hands and organize a festival to rival the Lollapalooza/Bonnaroo/Coachella/Sasquatch giants. Stay tuned for Baeble coverage of this weekend's festival, but until then, here are the top 5 bands tempting me to catch the next plane/hot air balloon/covered wagon to Chicago.

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There was always something about the Lucksmiths, the simplistic beauty and unbelievable wit and pop perfection of their music. Those songs that become the soundtrack of summer nights falling asleep to tears or memories, sunny afternoons in sparse parks populated with swings and dandelions, songs for mixtapes, for bedrooms, for holding hands and singalongs underneath the fireworks, for Scrabble and road trips, pool sides and break ups, library books and every little or great moment in between.

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In her video for "Nothing But a Miracle", pianist Diane Birch ushers viewers through the five tumultuous stages of grief.

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Here is a bit of red scale gruesomeness to get you going today. Filmed in the glory of a grind house kind of aesthetic, this Team Tobaxxxo directed video for Black Moth Super Rainbow's "Born on a Day the Sun Didn't Rise" is a sick little nightmare that goes something like this.

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Even for those of us too old to hit the Warped Tour anymore, summer is a great time for punk rock, and last weekend's shows were happy to show us why. The highlight of all this bouncing and fist-pumping action, though, was the highly anticipated return of JellyNYC Pool Parties, featuring Ponytail, Fucked Up, and Mission of Burma.

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Sounding something akin to Hot Topic apparel invading quaint, conservative, southern communities, Orenda Fink has always blurred the thick line separating dark, gothic music from more light hearted, folkiness. On her latest album, Ask the Night, expect more of the same. By that we mean tender vocals grazing up against the sounds of guitar, banjo, accordion, violin, bass, and pump organ for a 10 song set that is intriguingly mysterious.

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Hot off their prestigious Polaris Music Prize nomination, Hey Rosetta! have announced a string of dates throughout the US and Canada later this summer.

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Unmistakable, deep voiced rapper Chali 2na stepped in our Baeble Guest Apartment for an exclusive interview, where he talked of his inspirations, motivations, touring with the Marley family, and the power of what all musicians aspire toward, because "music is going to be here when you're gone."

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With the release of our latest concert from Busdriver comes another gift from us--the chance to win two signed copies of the LA Hip Hop artist's latest album, Jhelli Beam, with a bit of help from our friends at Anti. See below to see how you can take home this one of a kind hook up.

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Witness Busdriver's brilliance: spitting sharp, smart lyrics and fluid dance moves on top of electronica that already inspire a step back: this is rap? This is hip hop? These impressive lines, conviction like razor blades, irresistible: this ain't art school but a shark pool. Witness all of this and more at Busdriver's show at the Mercury Lounge. Fast paced, culturally aware lyrics, a heavy beat, enthusiasm and authenticity; Busdriver is from LA, but the edge and the involved energy of his show is entirely New York.

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Busdriver is one of those rare hip hop artists hipsters should adore. Literate, clever, self aware, he references brand names and life styles in sharp rhythms and lines, while keeping in tune with the dreamy, spacey, electronic production of Daedelus and Nobody throughout the songs ofJhelli Beam. If for any reason you forget the hard to dismiss lyrics for a moment, Busdriver's beats and non-stop slew of words stand on their own, with a strength in urgency, pounding rhythm, and rolling momentum.

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No one enjoys going to the dentist, but Julie Doiron definitely has made the trip a little less frightening. Her newest video, "Consolation Prize," from her latest album, I Can Wonder What You Did With Your Day, features a dangerous, teeth-pulling dentist, a little girl with an oversized lollipop, and a creepy zombie covered in dirt. A very peculiar trio, but a combination that can entertain just about anyone.

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Sally Shapiro, the queen of cold, heartbreaking Swedish electro disco romance has always been lovable in that cooler than you are, and more sad than you are too sort of way. Her new video for her new song "Love in July" might sound optimistic, but it wouldn't be Sally without the touches of the broken heart and false hope. Forget about Sally for a moment, though, for this video features the romance of a lighthouse goldfish and an iceberg trapped whale. It is also incredibly, painfully adorable, with big eyed creatures in this hazy, dreamy world you're prone to want to scoop out and take home.

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Here we have a collection of aggressive musicians, all making a record together. Whose ideas dominate? Jack White is the natural choice, being a band member/producer, seemingly infusing each track with the stereotypical White grime-laced overtones. But in reality quite a few tracks, including first single "Hang You Up From The Heavens" cite only Allison Mosshart and guitarist Dean Fertita (of Queens Of The Stone Age) as writers. In fact, the writing is pretty even across the board, weaving a pretty convincing web of balance. And then there is the fact that Jack isn't even front and center; he's actually sitting behind the drum kit.

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We have high hopes for the release of The Idle Hands' debut album, The Hearts We Broke on the Way to the Show.

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The first time a friend introduced me to Chris Garneau, he told me his music sounded like doves. The description stuck with me, and it wasn't long after that I fell utterly in love with the sweet, charming singer-songwriter whose songs are a bit like doves, soft, gentle, yet with a quiet wit and pop persistence that lingers. In the dark, atmospheric dinner lounge that was Chris Garneau's CD release show for El Radio at Le Poisson Rouge, I'm sure any member of the audience not already enchanted with the artist discovered their love in the same way.

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The bouncy synths of Friendly Fires' "Skeleton Boy" with the Debbie-Harry-esque crooning of Deluka's "Cascade." When British electronica meetsmore British electronica, everybody wins.

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Booze, sweat, summer...call it the ideal summer concoction for a Saturday evening in New York City. And high flying Vancouver duo Japandroids were more than happy to provide the catalyst for such shenanigans, bringing their maximal, garage surge to Piano's for a sold out evening of thrilling, rock and roll. Though only two, Brian King and David Prowse fed the good folks in attendance all they could handle, holding nothing back as they rolled through an impassioned set of jams...

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Rings (Frenchkiss) is a confusing twist of many things, indie aesthetic, chilled pop, and most notably, the distinct sound of South Carolina adolescent jam band reggae.

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From the opening lines of "Twilight Galaxy," Emily Haines makes it clear that no one has the power to tell her what to do or how to do it. Ever since Metric recorded Grow Up and Blow Away in their home studio in London in the late nineties, they've stood out from the multitudes of dance-pop bands with punky overtones and female vocalists. Although those earlier songs had a self-described innocence, they also had the confidence and lack of pretension of a band determined to do things on their own terms, in their own way, rather than to accommodate a preordained image.

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Here's a record that'll fight the criminally rapid pace of the summer months, courtesy of the appropriately titled band, Summer Cats. The 13 tracks offered on their debut Songs for Tuesdays (Slumberland), along with the undeniably intricate and colorful artwork that accompanies it, has enough force to prevent our hollowed streets from ever feeling the crispy texture of an autumn leaf, or the chilling sensation of a winter snowflake. And so we welcome you Summer Cats, with a fitting ray of joy.

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Supplementing our Baeble Guest Apartment performance, Courtney Kaiser and Benjamin Cartel took some time to sit down with Baeble to discuss how Kaiser Cartel came to be, their recent romp around Europe, and how they connect with their friends and fans through their music.

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It always feels like a copout when artists make videos that leave nothing to the imagination - a direct illustration of the lyrics, what amounts to a round of charades in the age of CGI. But though the Chali 2na video for "Lock Shit Down" is ostensibly the result of rapping into a virtual reality machine, and no block letters illustrating key chorus words will ever be able to top the typographical marvel of the Graffiti Research Labs video for Jay-Z's "Brooklyn We Go Hard," it's hard to hold that against him.

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Courtney Kaiser and Benjamin Cartel play indie pop that finds its' listener ripe with warmth, and moist in misty summer imagery. Earlier this week the unassuming Brooklyn couple - both musically and romantically linked - paid a visit to our Guest Apartment, bringing both a chipper sort of outlook, and four perfectly sculpted tunes along with them.

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Welcome to Friday. This is the day before the two best days of the week. Unless of course you work on the weekend. Then Friday is just like any other day and perhaps Monday would be a better day for you. Regardless, this mixtape is for all you Friday lovers, and Monday lovers, and basically everybody else. Unless of course you have an aversion to discovering new music. Then this mixtape may not be up your alley. But for everyone else, here it is!

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It begins with a murder. Watching Blitzen Trapper's video for "Black River Killer" is a bit like experiencing No Country for Old Men from the perspective of Javier Bordem's ruthless killer, if he was a good ol' boy from down on the range. They spin the desperate tale with the haunting certainty of a campfire tale sung deep in the desert, and the deceptive catchiness of Tom Petty's "Last Dance With Mary Jane." A surreal talk show with a hollow-eyed, masked audience cheers on the gruesome plight - they eat it up, and so do we.

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Dan Boeckner and Alexei Perry brought an enormous amount of energy and enthusiasm to the Bowery Ballroom during their July 7th show. As they rocked through a setlist comprised mostly of songs off their new album "Face Control," the husband and wife duo that comprise Handsome Furs danced, gyrated and repeatedly fell over when overwhelmed by their own spastic energy.

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The Most Serene Republic must get tired of being bombarded with Broken Social Scene comparisons, but to be fair, there are more than a few similarities. They're a Canadian band on the Arts & Crafts label, notorious for their multitude of members and songs whose perplexing titles are only rivaled by their grandiose structures. But though they're situated firmly in the northern school of vast, intricately layered epicness that brought us the Arcade Fire and the Black Mountain Collective, TMSR demonstrates once again that they can hold their own among the aforementioned sonic yetis.

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Welcome to the creepiest game of poker you've ever seen. It is quite entertaining to watch some people in pig masks and others whose faces are covered with sunglasses, oversized hats or stocking masks sit around a table in a dimly lit room playing cards.

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Though he's been busy reuniting Dinosour Jr and re-releasing classic Sebadoh albums, Lou Barlow will make his return to the solo game this fall, releasing Goodnight Unknown.

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Though it's almost mid July, one of this summer's most highly anticipated tours is only just getting started. The Heartless Bastards- the Dayton Ohio based power rock quartet - are set to hit the road, sharing the stage with some of the most prominent names in rock (Jenny Lewis, The Decemberists, The Avett Brothers and Andrew Bird) along the way. Look for high powered sets at festival settings such as Lollapalooza, All Points West, Outside Lands, and Austin City Limits.

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Motel Motel are from Brooklyn, and if you think that should tell you everything you need to know, well, in this case you'd probably be wrong. In New Denver, they are scratchy voices over clashing guitars, ceramics with the edges chipped, and feathers with the tips woven with strips of wire. They are alt country and experimental, but don't be mislead by labels either. The twine in each song is not all westerns and cowboys, although a touch of that lingers on each winding line.

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Where would you wish to wake up tomorrow? Safe and curled up in your own bed, the familiar soft covers and sheets? Tangled in the arms of a lover, with their smile all the wake up you need? In a foreign country, maybe Paris, maybe London, a new beginning? Fifty People One Question asked just that to strangers on a sunny afternoon in Brooklyn.

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Keeping up with Busdriver's lickity split delivery is always a challenge, and for the uninitiated, even a tad overwhelming. Lucky for us we got the LA hip hop artist to slow it down a little, finding some time to chat before burning through a rocket forced set at the Mercury Lounge last month.

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When singer-songwriter Sharon Van Etten strolls through her rose colored songs, she does so with her most vulnerable emotions, intentions, and inspirations guiding her way. To know the New Yorker's songs is to devour and feel those experiences that shaped them for ones' self.

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Elvis Perkins In Dearland might really be chained to the ground in their latest video, "Chains, Chains, Chains," off their self-titled album.

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Though not scheduled to be released until September 29th, Baeble favs Cory Chisel and the Wandering Sons are already rolling out bits and pieces from their highly anticipated full-length debut Death Won't Send A Letter. That there title might be the case, but the Cory camp was kind enough to send us the album's first single, "Born Again" earlier today.

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Step aside Tom Morello. It is time to make room for 20 year old Cetan Clawson. Yes, we believe it's possible for a young Detroit native to become a threat to a such well-established guitar player. And yes, we're a little floored by that fact as well. But Clawson has such diligent guitar skills that it is hard to believe that he is only just breaking into the music scene with his debut album, White Heat, which was recently released.

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Tiny Vipers' new album Life on Earthoffers pieces of spaced acoustic finger pickings, dark melodies, and faint shadows shuffling beneath the beauty of Seattle based singer Jesy Fortino's solitary, haunting voice. The sparse, slow burn of her songs is rare in a time that increasingly emphasizes instant and forced flashiness.

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It's not easy to forget the Noisettes's stunning Shingai Shoniwa, with her sculptural hair, perfect expresso skin, 50's movie star eyes, that glamorous fringed 20's white dress, and, of course, her voice in their new video for "Never Forget You". At once a soulful reincarnation of decades gone past with a fierce modern intonation carrying hints of Santigold or the enthusiasm of the similarly British (and similarly named) pop outfit the Pipettes, the Noisettes dance in sultry blues and jazz influenced pop that linger.

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Justin Townes Earle's new video for "Midnight at the Movies", the title track off his second album, is exactly what its name promises: sepia and dust, light filtering across the screen, a vintage styled movie theater filled with gold trims and dried roses, petals lining the stage as Earle turns the seemingly most stripped acoustic story into a sadness tinged feature, honest Americana that captures details like the frayed petals with a bleak, inspired ease.

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Happy Third of July everyone! We hope you are all enjoying your day off and are preparing for a celebration of great proportions for Independence Day. May your tables be full and your fireworks bright. For the occasion we have yet another mixtape for you. This is the 21st in the series and let me tell you it is a doozy. We've got brand new songs from Mew, Noah and the Whale, Bibio and much more. Again you must listen to this one all the way through because the last song is really something special.

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Riverboat Gamblers remind me of all the best parts of punk rock growing up. The old timers love to lecture about how we missed Sid Vicious, Joe Strummer, and even Ian McKay. But after punk rock was mostly over being angry and political, and before it gave itself over to the Twilight-looking, melodramatic screamo tendencies of Gerard Way and his morose imitators, there was a brief window when, believe it or not, punk rock was all about fun.

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The fabled summer sun, the open road, gas prices that are less than astronomicalit all adds up to the temptation of a road trip. Anni Rossi's new video for "The West Coast" captures that allure perfectly, in hushed golden tones, with slow motion snapshot scenes of looming trucks and the murmur of a distant ocean.

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Picture your Sunday: a late start, an extravagant brunch, your Sunday's best clothes, and a trip to the Williamsburg waterfront for dodgeball, a giant slip 'n' slide, and seeing artists like The Dirty Projectors, Grizzly Bear, Girl Talk, Simian Mobile Disco, Dan Deacon, Trail of Dead and many, many more, all for free. Wait, what?

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Let's all stop with the history lessons and stand in awe; Wilco (The Album) requires none of Wilco's former achievements to stand on both of its' legs. Even after adjusting their sound ever so slightly, probably due to the ever-changing line-up, Wilco still sounds like the force of domination it's been since Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

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The brittle, unashamedly nineties joyride (think the best of Weezer, Pavement, Modest Mouse, and...er...Pavement all filing on to the same stage at once) that is NYC outfit Cymbals Eat Guitars' forte got the live treatment this past Sunday evening, churning the basement bandbox that is the Cake Shop in to a sweaty, delirious mess of screeching vocals, gnarly guitar riffs, and ship shape drum and bass. Why are their mountains? It's a question the band's superbly slapdash performance answered as it unfurled over the course of the evening.

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Remember your seventh birthday party? You were eating cake with all your friends, when out of the depths of the arcade stumbles a giant animatronic robot (who vaguely resembles Bret from Flight of the Conchords) who drops lightning-fast raps over the tune of Mozart's "Sonata in A Major." Oh wait, maybe I'm thinking of Busdriver's video for "Me Time (With the Pulmonary Palimpset)," the first single off his upcoming album Jhelli Beam.

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A lot of noise has been going around about Wavves' Barcelona meltdown, but really, was anyone surprised? Take a hyped up hipster off the blogs and put him in front of a giant festival crowd, and disaster is bound to strike. Wavves plays offhand lo-fi noise pop that's best suited for crackly headphones and basement parties, and his new video for "No Hope Kids" shows him doing what he does best.

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With that tried and true coupling of dreamy synths and floaty vocals, Rubies create song after quietly pretty song and make it seem effortless. Think either along the lines of School of Seven Bells, Feist, Chairlift, the Whitest Boy Alive (most of which they've collaborated or toured with) or of a school dance in the 1970s as seen through the lavender-tinted lenses of nostalgia.

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It's officially summer, and officially halfway through 2009. We've had our share of notable events, like the recent death of the King of Pop (RIP), but we've also had a wonderful slew of records from both artists we already expect the most from, as well as marvelous new bands that jumped on our radar. We're taking a midyear look back at some of our favorite records of the year thus far. Here are Baeble's top five favorites of the first half of 2009. Will they stay on the list at the end of year? We'll just have to wait and see.

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Upon first listen, We Were Promised Jetpacks - brimming with heavy guitars and emotions in a familiar indie rock accented drawl - are musical twins to bands such as The National and The Twilight Sad. But maybe it's their Scottish background that lends These Four Walls authenticity and an intense desperation in their songs that bleed beyond the strong but predictable song structures.

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