Pitchfork looms this weekend, and Frightened Rabbit agreed to whet your auditory appetite with a list of sweet, sweet tracks from their festival cohorts who'll help them rock Union Park:
Plants and Animals: Faerie Dance This seven-minute suite straight from the Canadian trio starts hushed and slowly builds into a rousing sing-alongable chorus, kinda like a longer, indie "Song That Never Ends" except it eventually does.
The National: Apartment Song This Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cincinnati act's humming guitars and driving drums back the lead singer's brooding baritone that sounds like Chris Isaak ran a wicked game all over the Crash Test Dummies guy.
The Walkmen: New Year's Eve Tinkling piano and a cacophony of gentle percussion punctuate this number from a New York group with a fondness for vintage musical instruments, which now aptly describes your Walkman.
Grizzly Bear: Two Weeks This folk-rock quartet's ornate, dreamy keyboards craft a beautiful, melodic tune with breezy harmonies that recall Rockapella, before they were totally corrupted with piles of that Carmen San Diego money.
Matt and Kim: Yea Yeah The Brooklyn based boy-girl duo (The boy is Matt, the girl is Kim!) rocks out hard with a repetitive chorus (Yea! Yeah! Yeah!) that's highly infectious and disturbingly upbeat, like Richard Simmons giving a eulogy.
The Flaming Lips: Fight Test The festival headliners crafted a tune that bears a striking resemblance to a futuristic Cat Stevens ... so much so that Cat's collecting royalties, which is one of the pillars of (Yusef) Islam.
M83: Teen Angst The France-formed electronic act's surging synth reverberates behind haunting, hushed vocals, sorta like the ones you used to call for your Mom when hair started showing up in unexpected places.
The Antlers: Epilogue Featuring a methodically strummed acoustic guitar and a pained falsetto, the aptly named last track from this unsigned act's album "Hospice" shamelessly exploits the latest trend in terminal illness concept albums. (Your move, Rihanna).
Yeasayer: Sunrise This Brooklyn group creates a surreal marriage of Gospel-y vocals, Middle Eastern beats, and an eerie, atonal Asian drum called a gamelan, also the name of a fantastical paradise free of eerie, atonal Asian drums.