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Preview: Alvvays

Noah Bonaparte Pais on the band coming to Gasa Gasa Nov. 18



For pop fans doubting whether "indie" survived the '90s as a stylistic (rather than literal) prefix, Alvvays is like the discovery of a lost bloodline: discordant, chiming guitars; tonally untethered, detached-yet-lovesick female singer, skinny-dipping in reverb; a precious eponymous debut using a double-v in place of the "w." (Forget that it's a brilliant search-engine beacon.) And — most important — flattering hereditary singles falling out of their pockets: "Archie, Marry Me" (Camera Obscura, nee Belle and Sebastian), "Next of Kin" (The Decemberists, nee The Smiths), "Atop a Cake" (late Slumberland Records, nee early Slumberland Records), "Adult Diversion" (nee basically every great power-pop song ever). Recorded in Calgary, Canada, at a studio called Yoko Eno, Alvvays came into the world wearing glasses and a sweater, with a part-time job at John Cusack's record store, romanticizing the stars of track and field with the other drama geeks and pre-punk outcasts cutting class. That's the nostalgic archetype, anyway. Molly Rankin's lyrics are both more specific and more universal, hitting their marks so well that even couplets from different tracks match ("I'll admit I've been losing sleep/ Rifling through your toxicology"; "Forget all the party police/ We could find comfort in debauchery"). "Too late to go out/ Too young to stay in," she sums on "Archie," a Super 8 daydream committed to memory and captured on wax. Absolutely Free and Yuppie Teeth open. Tickets $10.

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