Friends at the Crocodile
FRIENDS WELCOME YOU TO A SULTRY SUMMER
Conveniently rolling into town on the day of the solstice, Friends should satisfy anyone who is still looking for a few good tunes to usher in the summer, or at least to break up guilty-pleasure binge listens of 2012's official Summer Song™, Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe."
It's difficult triangulating Friends' sound—they work in that nebulous realm of current indie pop where tropical new-wave grooves and '90s hiphop and booty bass coalesce. (And, yeah, do I even really need to mention that they're from Brooklyn, with a 21st-century NYC genesis story that involves bedbug infestations forcing would-be band members to move in together?)
But whether you place a premium on infectiousness or sauntering bass lines, Friends, with their debut album Manifest!, have got you covered. Their first single, "I'm His Girl," will be the perfect soundtrack to one of those few Seattle summer nights when it's too hot to sleep and all you want to do is strut around the city looking for the nearest all-night party. Samantha Urbani's lyrics focus on navigating modern relationships; the aforementioned "I'm His Girl" delves into independence vis-à-vis dating, and another standout from the album, "Friend Crush," is the best paean to platonic infatuation that I've ever heard.
Friends are also able to balance their silliest moments with impeccable rhythmic chops, such as on the language-spanning chirping of "Va Fan Gör Du." Despite this being the first June in my life when I'm not celebrating the end of classes (hello, first graduation anniversary!), Friends still make me feel like school is out, eagerly eyeing a whole summer for cloistered introverts, like myself, to bust loose. Opening tonight are Splash, who have christened themselves "transcendental boogie pop" purveyors, and while the one song I've heard of theirs didn't give me an out-of-body experience, they nonetheless seem like very capable Italo-disco revivalists. Crocodile, 8 pm, $10.