Album: Harlem – Hippies
Some bands you stumble upon by chance, and some stumble upon you. How I met up with Harlem:
1. My ex-wife sends me a survey for some philips mp3 player coming out, with the possibility of getting invited to beta test the device and get to go to some free shows.
2. I get accepted, get a free mp3 player and go to weird rock shows of local bands in some pseudo-corporate-competition for our votes at a lot of silly fancy apartments in Austin.
3. At one, I notice my friend Christian, setting up. He has no idea what I’m talking about when I bring up this mp3 player.
4. It turns out he’s playing in Harlem, who proceed to rock all worlds in some east austin garage, a bunch of rogue-type drunks with a marching band kick drum, no showers, and 3 tons of energy.
5. They rule
Free Drugs 
was one of my favorite albums of the past few years, with stripped down, grungy garage pop. When you start out on Hippies, if it’s your first time listening, you’d think they were a twee group, like the Shaggs with their shit together. Three songs in, you feel their sloppy swagger creep out and understand: they’re just happy to be playing, totally in their characters of rock and roll kids living the dream.
There aren’t as many standouts on Hippies; no “South of France,” “Caroline” or “Psychedelic Tits,” but there’s a consistency that’s both comforting and energizing. “Gay Human Bones” gets the rest of the record up and moving, and by the time you get to “Poolside,” you just want to hang out with these guys, you want them to play your birthday party, and you will need an extra keg.