Heat Check — Local Natives

I first saw Local Natives in a stuffy attic this past summer as part of Daytrotter's Barnstormer Tour. I spent a good amount of time after the set talking to the singer/keyboardist, and it felt almost redundant meeting him. Hailing from the home of the most dominant forms of distorted haze, noise and chill-wave, the band's sound is both clean and nice. They're Belle & Sebastian revivalists for the post-Vampire Weekend era. Or, they're a band you can take home to your grandma but still be entertained by later in the week. I mean, if you were dating.

They complicate Band of Horses' breezy country and make Grizzly Bear pedestrian. In other words, they're like a Grand Archives we can get excited about. Their debut LP, Gorilla Manor, drops next week, and I figure someone at The Daily Cardinal will probably handle writing about it.

(I don't understand why they're booing at the beginning of this song. I know it's a slow piano part, but geeze. From what I can tell it's about a dead grandparent. Give him a break.)



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