Spoon— "Transference"

Key Tracks: “Got Nuffin,” “Written in Reverse”

Score: 8.3

“I wanna show you how I love you, but there’s nothin’ there,” Britt Daniel informs an assumedly fictional woman on the fifth track of his Austin, Texas-based band’s seventh studio album, "Transference." The song is “Written in Reverse” and within, Daniel observes a relationship destined for trainwreck in his signature coolest-friend-you-have voice that’s helped build Spoon’s reputation as the most reliable act in indie rock.

Few realize that Spoon’s been around nearly as long as Pitchfork champions Pavement, as both bands released their debut albums through small-time Matador Records just a few of the 1990s apart. It took Spoon awhile longer to break through into wide acclaim though, and the band remained largely unnoticed until after Pavement crumbled under the pressures of their 1999 world tour.

Now in the teens of another millennium, Spoon is the giant, steady asteroid to Pavement’s shooting star, having released five solid albums through a single label (Merge Records) between the latter band’s breakup and reunion. A rare feat this is for popular acts and even amongst indie ones in today’s globalized media market, and Daniel’s topical songwriting is the likely catalyst behind his band’s consistent success.

Since 2001’s "Girls Can Tell," Daniel’s carved out a niche writing polished songs about messy relationships with a delivery that strikes you square in the gut. For younger fans (like myself) first drawn into the fold by “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb” and “The Underdog” with their pop-tastic flourishes of trumpets on 2008’s "Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga," "Transference" may initially sound less catchy and accessible. Largely this is because of their tendency to intermittently (and very intentionally) drop instruments from the mix without hesitation or warning for most of the album. It doesn’t create the same minimalist effect the band nailed with the drumstick-tapping “Paper Tiger” on their 2002 opus "Kill the Moonlight," but it does well to keep the listener off-kilter, scrambling to guess what may pop in next while they just roll right along.

The opener “Before Destruction” is a prime example: Eric Harvey’s creepy keys buzz in and out, indecisively haunting the track until it’s abruptly replaced the much more Spoon-y “Is Love Forever?”.

Returning to Daniel’s lyrical prowess and consistency, I imagine if one were to dedicate an afternoon to Spoon’s discography, it’d be like witnessing a parade of relationships as mussed as the singer’s reddish-blonde hair. He muses about reliability and certainty with “some ex-girlfriend let’s call her ‘Heather’” on “Is Love Forever?” before shifting between periods of aural paranoia and sparse breath-catching on the cut-short third track, “The Mystery Zone”.

One of the album’s highlights comes on “Is Love Forever?” when Daniel climbs atop a rolling tank of guitar progression and demands credence from a girlfriend as the track loops with his shouts of “Are you quite certain, love?” undercut by a calmer, lyrical analysis of his own instinct. “Got Nuffin” is already a live staple, driven by unflashy guitar and punctuated by a quality hook that sets the stage for Daniel to go into cool voice-mode and kill it with a disheveled solo and fadeout. If ever there were a template for a quality Spoon song, “Got Nuffin” is it.

Toss in a ballad (“Goodnight Laura”), some tender lyrics and guitar strumming (“Out Go the Lights”), and a bone for the kids who dig funky bass trips and weird noises (“Nobody Gets Me But You”) and you’ve got a quality indie rock album. Spoon never clamors for attention——they don’t need to. Their singer’s collected coolness is the expression of their confidence in the long haul.

—Matt Carney/The Daily

Yeasayer- "Odd Blood"

Key Tracks: "Ambling Alp," "Rome"

Score: 7.8

Joshua Boydston

Seeing the recent implosion of fellow afro-beat experimenters Dirty Projectors and Animal Collective, Yeasayer — the baby of the group — seems primed for a similar take-off with their equally trippy (and enjoyable) "Odd Blood."

While Yeasayer's "All Hour Cymbals" proved to be a brilliant introduction to the world, finding critically debut while the band dominated the festival circuit, "Odd Blood" finds itself exploring this brand new world with ethereal results.

For those unfamiliar with the sound, its a very zealous one, full of sights, sounds and textures. Listening to "Odd Blood" is like walking into an tribal art exhibit, spotting the most bewildering piece of them all, only to have a sudden cascade of colored sludge come gushing from the air ducts above you. It sweeps you into a intoxicating, exotic wave of color and noise.

Admittedly, it's a bit overwhelming, though perhaps dizzying is more appropriate. It's tough to finger point at an individual track (though closest in "Madder Red"); the feeling mostly comes from the unrelenting flood of clatters throughout the album.

Though almost enough to make you curse under your breath, "Why can't Yeasayer be a just bit poppier?," charmingly bizarre moments make you realize any restraint would result in a lot less fun.

Quirky moments pop up intermittently, but the most enthralling comes in "Rome" with a beat I can only describe as the music that plays in old Nintendo video games when menacing, but mostly fun, supervillians popped onto the screen.

But the piéce de résistance comes with "Ambling Alp." That poppy sound you wanted? It's right here. Delightfully peculiar, there's a certain aloofness that works well in contrast to the constant precision heavy in Dirty Projectors' and Animal Collective's tunes. Yeasayer captures free and exotic better here than any band has in years.

Despite some overstimulating tendencies, "Odd Blood" is fun, fresh and just enough of a loose cannon to promise a lofty — and squirrelly — trajectory.

—Joshua Boydston/The Daily