After many repeated listens, it all boils down to this: the problem with Devon Williams‘ “Your Sympathy” is that when ends after three and a half minutes, you’re just going to want to listen to it again. However, further spins only amplify the issue, making you more inclined to want to hear it once more. It’s a powerful feedback loop–this song is a mesmerizing enchantress.

“Your Sympathy” was first released as the A-side of a single back in late June but finds its proper home as the second track on Williams’ new sophomore LP, Euphoria. Although his sound is an excellent fit for the Slumberland label (home to previously featured acts including Veronica Falls, Girls Names, Spectrals, Gold-Bears, and others), Williams doesn’t especially sound like any of his peers in particular. Instead, his music favors the jangle of formative 1980s indie-pop acts like Felt, Let’s Active, and even Aztec Camera, with their broad, warm melodies.

When Williams anchors the line “Ooh, I can’t get your sympathy” as the track’s focal point, he does so expertly, allowing a world of ever-increasing musical layers to swirl around that chorus’ gravitational pull. What begins as an accompaniment characterized by a single, stellar electric guitar riff soon gives way to the song’s final twinkling cosmos, dappled with lilting strings and new ideas from multi-tracked guitars, their notes bursting into life like so many little stars.

This is part of the reason “Your Sympathy” stands so tall during each subsequent listen: there is always a new shimmer to be seen dancing across its surface. Of course, all of that texture would be for naught if it weren’t for Williams’ sublime sense of melody, which is (as it should be) its main source of Euphoria.

Click here to listen to Euphoria on Spotify.

If you liked this song, you should also check out:

Tim Williams “I Hit Another Wall”

Friday Mile “Lives of Strangers”

Jens Lekman “The End of the World is Bigger Than Love”

Philadelphia’s War on Drugs are the damnedest folk-rock band one is likely to hear in this day and age. While the roots of their sound are very definitely sunken very deep in Dylan and The Byrds, they take that sound to some out-of-the-way places. The War on Drugs sneak up on the tambourine man, drag him onto their own magic swirlin’ ship, and on the jingle-jangle mornin’ leave him staggering through the foggy ruins of time.

Take “Baby Missiles,” a track from the band’s second full-length album, Slave Ambient. At heart, it’s a sprightly folk tune not far removed from Dylan’s “Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts.” However, The War on Drugs smother the song with droning, swirling psychedelic keyboards that ebb and flow atop each other, creating the feeling of being chased by a pack of hellhounds down an alley where the paving stones refuse to sit still.

Andy Granduciel’s vocals are a mix of Dylan, The Waterboys’ Mike Scott and Wovenhand’s David Eugene Edwards as he spits out his lyrics in order to stay ahead of the song’s frantic gallop – one gets the impression that if paused for a breath the rest of the band would trample him in the dust. “Baby Missiles” doesn’t really fit in the genre generally referred to as psych-folk, typified by bands like Mazzy Star – it’s a little too psycho to be psych-folk.

(Previously spotlighted artist) Kurt Vile, one of the founding members of The War on Drugs, moved on to a well-regarded solo career before Slave Ambient was recorded. Vile is an immensely talented individual, but on “Baby Missiles” his old band doesn’t seem to miss him much. Granduciel and his cronies have more than enough ideas of their own to make The War on Drugs a fascinating band.

If you liked this song, you should also check out:

September & October 2011 MP3 Rewind

Teenage Fanclub “Baby Lee”

Devendra Banhart “Baby”

“I caught you streaking in your Birkenstocks / A scary thought in the 2K,” begins “Tigers,” the first track from Mirror Traffic, Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks’ fifth (or possibly fourth or third depending on how you count such things) full-length, which Matador Records will release on August 23, 2011.

Malkmus continues in his trademark croon, “Change is all we need to improve.” I’m going to have to disagree with you here, Stephen. “Tigers” delights precisely because it serves up Malkmus in his purest form. With vocal inflections that careen like light off a rearview mirror, his style is recognizable immediately.

“Tigers” would be right at home on Brighten the Corners. Should we abandon Malkmus for not mixing it up more? He doesn’t think so. He beats doubters to the punch singing, “Trust me because / I’m worth hating,” a line he delivers with customary Malkmusian self-absorption.

Malkmus is a singular genius who has a good thing going. Why mess with it? Even after Malkmus enlisted Beck (another singular genius) to produce Mirror Traffic, “Tigers” doesn’t sound the tiniest bit like anyone but Stockton’s favorite son (sorry, Spiral).

As Malkmus has aged he has conceded to let his lyrics tell the occasional story. (Search for linear storytelling in “Summer Babe” or “Gold Soundz” all you like, but it isn’t there.) It’s a rather large step toward convention from a songwriter so intentionally cryptic that he used to be identified only as “S.M.”

Lyrically, “Tigers” represents another tiny chink in Malkmus’ armor of inscrutability and fans are wise to peer in. The song stands poised to join Jicks-era classics like “Jenny and the Ess-Dog” and “Jo-Jo’s Jacket.”

If you liked this song, you should also check out:

Sweet Apple “I’ve Got A Feeling (That Won’t Change)”

Andy Clockwise “Stealing Cars (Second Wind)”

July & August 2011 MP3 Rewind

Imaginary Cities is a male/female duo who hail from Winnipeg, Manitoba. Their debut full-length, Temporary Resident, which includes “Hummingbird,” made the long-list for Canada’s prestigious Polaris Prize. Hidden Pony released Temporary Resident in March of 2011.

“Hummingbird” offers up a mix of propulsive rhythms, fleshed-out hooks, and touch of drama. Centering on Marti Sarbit’s strong vocals, the track blends an off-kilter warble (think Kristin Hersh) and melodic accessibility that’s reminiscent of recently disbanded California foursome Rilo Kiley. Multi-instrumentalist Rusty Matyas, a mainstay of the Winnipeg rock scene and serial collaborator, joins Sarbit to complete Imaginary Cities.

“Hummingbird” conjures up a soundscape that is decidedly warmer than the frosty plains of Manitoba. The piano runs that help give the song its structure may as well be the sun’s rays. The touch of melancholy in Sarbit’s voice keeps “Hummingbird” from becoming too sweet. It is, however, a great pick to spruce up your next beach day or barbecue playlist.

If you liked this song, you should also check out:

Kiss in Cities “U R My Girl”

The High Dials “Teenage Love Made Me Insane”

Caribou “Odessa”