As the clouds begin to give way, releasing us all from a crappy winter stranglehold, trashy sluts across the city are prematurely donning shorts and even (so gross...) tank tops, in a blur of miserably unsunned legs and shoulders. Bars are getting crowded again, and consequently rock and roll shows are selling better. On top of all that, this Friday night brings us Portland, Oregon's the Standard, whose eponymous debut release of this past March is smart, bright, aggressive--the perfect thing to listen to while driving with the windows down, getting woozy and loose in crowded public spaces, falling down, and falling in mad dizzy love with warm things and other people.

I love this record and so will you. Though it has the effect of growing on me each time, the reasons to listen were obvious from the moment I pressed "play": Tim Putnam has a great, urgent voice that sounds right at home over the Standard's driving, ambitious guitar sound--guitar that is artful without being noodly, heavy but not deafening. It might be compared to Corin Tucker, Geddy Lee, or Frank Black, depending on the song to which one is listening. Putnam's voice is consistently aquiver, abetted by a quick shot of breath from the gut for every turn of phrase over propulsive guitar and rhythm tracks.

The band's use of keyboard, coupled with Putnam's high, emotive voice, gives the Standard something of a prog rock feel, a tag with which the band has been labeled before. In fact, the record's opening guitar lines could easily be from a Rush song. But the Standard really isn't derivative of Rush, or Yes, to which the band has also been compared. The record is too real and immediate to be folded up and tucked away like that. It's a big, organic blast of ideas and energy--not made for an arena but, as stated, perfect for the car with the windows rolled down. Or better still, a rock and roll club.

"I get really nervous playing live," Putnam tells me over the phone from Portland. "I've always been kind of a four-tracking, write-songs-in-my-apartment sort of person. The other guys have been playing out for years. To be honest, I don't really like playing live. It makes me nervous. I really have a bad time getting in front of people and playing music. It's kind of an exercise in willpower to actually play."

Nervous perhaps, but he's really good at it. I ask him why he does it if it makes him so nervous. "I guess I can't make the music I want to make unless I'm playing--now, specifically--with the people that I'm playing with. And for them not to play live, I think I'd be cheating them." Sweet. And sincere, I believe. "I guess people do things to kind of prove to themselves that they're worth something. And I think maybe that's why I write music and why I play live.... Not to have a dramatic answer, or anything."

That's not dramatic, believe me. Dramatic would be, say, not playing because you hate yourself, or worse, wearing a tank top if you're not a drummer.

According to Putnam, the Standard is very excited for this Seattle show, as the band has only played Seattle once. The Standard is also very excited about a forthcoming LP that it is currently finishing up recording, which will also be released on Barbaric Records sometime in the near future. Putnam thinks the new record is far superior to the debut. In fact, he tells me there's plenty about the debut that he actually hates. Like the songs "Expressway" and "Static." "Those are the ones that are getting played on college radio, and 'Expressway' is embarrassing--the lyrics make me cringe. But I think you should be held accountable for the music you do, as bad as it may be."

Now that's dramatic. His self-deprecation aside, those songs that Putnam's embarrassed of are not bad songs. They're excellent songs. The debut Standard album hits its highs and lows like any other, but it's a momentous debut. You need to go see this show. You need an incendiary first slap of a long-awaited Seattle summer.