Tuesday, June 7, 2011 - 8:00pm

CULTS
The duo of Brian Oblivion (guitar, vocals) and Madeline Follin (vocals) a.k.a. Cults are the latest exponents of 60s girl-group-adoring twee pop, but they may just be the best....She sounds like a latterday Lesley Gore singing You Don't Own Me, which is, incidentally, Brian and Madeline's "tune", in the Simon Bates sense. Their much blogged-about Go Outside is as close to a faultless realisation of this kind of C86-meets-60s-pop thing as any of today's revivalists (Vivian Girls et al) have come, perhaps because it focuses more on the melody and harmony than it does the fuzzy, lo-fi sonics, to the extent that it could almost pass for an actual 60s original. The track also features a sample of cult leader Jim Jones, which if anything makes it seem even more haunting, as though it was some buried treasure that someone has unearthed and tampered with. -The Guardian UK

GUARDS
Guards was formed in New York City when Richie James Follin returned from a European tour to a recording studio with nothing in it but a broken electric 12 string guitar and an omnichord. He wrote and recorded a few songs for his little sister to sing on, but ended up singing on the songs himself. He enlisted the help of his friends (Caroline Polachek of Chairlift, James Richardson of MGMT, Loren Shane Humphrey of Willowz) and family (Madeline Follin of Cults) to guest on some songs and they spread the word without his knowledge via twitter and the internet. Then, he decided to give the songs away for free. Richie James Follin is 27 and he is originally from southern California. He started the Willowz (lead singer and guitarist) when he was 19 in 2002 and has released 4 records with them as well as a solo record and multiple other projects. He also plays guitar in Cults.

Writer
In a small corner of San Diego, brothers Andy & James Ralph drives melodies through the air sharp as nails; while plugged into buzzing amps in a space cluttered with a dozen instruments and tangled cords. Beneath wooden rafters and a blanket of sound, an unpolished throat sings gritty, spit-shined, and endearingly clumsy where the sadness of its voice is somehow tender. It is a voice reaching for something familiar, inspired by physical experience, influential friends, loss, and objects that leave a residue of longing.