No Hits 6.27.05

By The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth – Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Natural contrarian that I am, I’m always suspicious of bands du jour, especially among indie rock fans who can be, let’s face it, too willing to embrace something just because it’s new and not-yet-popular. When the hype reaches a pitch that would make an NME journalist blush, you’ve gotta take a step back.

That’s strike one against Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.

Strike two's the myth perpetuated by the band that they’re just a bunch of noble savages recently emerged from the woods, innocent of anything that’s happened in underground rock in the past well, forever. (C’mon Alec, even my mom knows the words to Float On!) Listening to The Skin Of My Yellow Country Teeth, I’d be very surprised, astonished even, if CYHSY hadn’t heard The Clean. Though I guess it's possible the Dunedin sound has filtered down though other sources. Oh well, that’s their story anyway.

But I’m happy to report my suspicions are entirely groundless (this time—I’m still right about Bloc Party). The band’s self-titled album is outstanding—quirky, tuneful, joyous and more self-assured than any debut deserves to be. And Skin is the best track on the record, maybe even the best song of 2005. I defy you not to get up and dance in your miserable little office cube when you hear it.

Copies of the self-produced CD are currently sold out, but I’m sure the band is working feverishly to make more. In the meantime, a bunch of downloads are available over on their Web site. CYHSY plan to tour in the fall with The National—a killer double bill.