This probably isn't the best song on their new record All Hour Cymbals (that would probably be this one but 'Sunrise' is the first track and sets up the record to come. It's not as nuanced or shrouded in weird tropical mystery like the music that makes up the rest of the LP. On its second track, 'Wait For The Summer' Yeasayer come off like some gypsy folk entourage who've taken a detour. Obviously for dudes like them it's the road to the destination, not the destination itself that is the most important. Not that they don't like a good verse-chorus-verse but they're so steeped in atmosphere I'm sure they change the temperature. It's mostly the vocal harmonies that make Yeasayer a strangely exotic sounding group of dudes; it sounds like they're making their rock outside an Incan temple, in a rain forest, or TV on the Radio and Justin Timberlake and Akron/Family got lost in said rain forest, stumbling out upon some amps and guitars and cords and shit like Pink Floyd Pompeii all monolithic and steamy and dusty and hot. This sounds particularly good negoating small streets to find the entrance to a beach somewhere in Tweed heads in a Citroen, palm trees all around and forest, too. They've got that mystical sort of group vibe where it sounds like they get together and take some wacky drugs and somehow come up with this unique sounding stuff that you can tell is somehow 'indie rock' or whatever but like they've tapped into some lost combination of influences. Really, they're just from Brooklyn. I dunno. I'm just glad I'm not listening to the new Radiohead right now.