And it’s going to be hard not to give it to them.

It’s obvious from “Move”, the album’s first track. Saint Motel is interested in writing pick-me-up music that grabs your attention and keeps it. The catchy chorus, the hook-filled verse, and even the production on the record are all punchy.

In a lot of ways, Saint Motel is beginning to feel like the spiritual successor to the harmless party music of yesteryear, like “Mambo No. 5”. I’m not saying that Saint Motel’s music sounds like “Mambo No. 5”. I’m arguing that they share the same spirit, the same mood, the same joy — and yes, they want the same thing. They want you to move to the groove.

Almost every track has the same level of catchiness and enthusiasm. I love the sax flairs in “Destroyer”. (And the lyrics are hilarious: “I don’t break hearts; I destroy them.” I flat-out giggled when I heard it the first time.) “Getaway” sounds like the sort of tune people would have danced to the old iPod commercials (and I’m looking forward to seeing the music video, which I hope times the cuts to the beat).

It’s not just the opening tracks that are catchy, either. Even the later tracks on the record, like “Local Long Distance Relationship (LA2NY)”, are inescapably catchy. Almost every song is danceable, and nearly every song will compel you to roll down the window and sing along. (My mark of a great sing-along record is one that I want to belt along with in the car.)

But the inarguable highlight of the record is “For Elise”, a Queen-like track that riffs off “Für Elise”. It’s everything that Saint Motel does well: it’s catchy, naturally, but it’s also lyrically clever. And the way it combines modern pop with Beethoven’s piano composition is very smart songwriting. It’s hard to discuss the track without superlatives, because it’s a flawless pop song.

With that in mind, there’s only one thing that saddens me about saintmotelevision. Not every track is as good as “For Elise” (although that might have been an impossible ask). That’s literally my only complaint about the whole record.

For fans of Jukebox the Ghost (and a few of the other indie pop darlings of the past decade), it’s impossible not to recommend saintmotelevision. It’s easy to put saintmotelevison on repeat and never turn off — which makes it, in my books, a stupendous indie pop record.

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On their third outing, Two Door Cinema Club tells a similar story. They grow in their abilities as songwriters, and the tracks carrie additional pop weight. But this time, it’s easier to compare Two Door Cinema Club to nostalgic 80s throwbacks like Chromeo.

From the first hand-clap on “Are We Ready? (Wreck)”, it’s clear that Two Door Cinema Club’s latest presents a few changes. The hand clapping, danceable riffs, and background vocals all add up to a version of Two Door Cinema Club that feels fresh and new — while still using some of their trademark grooves.

For a band newly focused on a danceable groove, Two Door Cinema Club still uses a lot of guitar-based riffs. And their chorus leads are still excellent. So while there are a lot of 80s references here, it never feels overplayed. More importantly, it never feels like it departs from who Two Door Cinema is.

There are times, however, when Two Door Cinema Club intently pursues the new direction with wreckless abandon. “Bad Decisions” follows the same groove-based style that “Are We Ready? (Wreck)” sets up. It’s a dance floor-ready track that shows off where Two Door Cinema Club is going — and it might have their best chorus ever. But it’s completely different from what we’ve heard before.

None of that is bad. Gameshow is the sound of a band successfully exploring new soundscapes. These experiments make the record better.

In that light, because of their expanded musical vocabulary, the album is incredibly strong from start to finish. It rarely feels stale, and there are a lot of dynamics throughout the record. It never feels like Two Door Cinema Club is pummelling the audience from one track to the next. Gameshow is well-balanced.

Even its mid-section tracks are great. The title track and “Invincible” are both impeccable. (“Invincible” is so good; I’m surprised they didn’t name the record after it.)

On Beacon, it felt like Two Door Cinema Club were getting better as indie rockers. On this record, where they transition even further towards pop, it feels like they’re becoming more comfortable being themselves. To reference Phoenix again, if Gameshow isn’t Two Door Cinema Club’s Wolfgang Amadeus, it’s at least their It’s Never Been Like That. It’s the record where they fully come into their own.

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The past two Phantogram records have been fine, technically speaking. They’re fine indie records. But they’re original to the point that they’re bothersome. It feels like Phantogram tries too hard on them. I remember listening to Voices and being unable to recommend it here. I love weird music, but Phantogram just made me feel uncomfortable. Something was wrong.

With Three, I don’t have that feeling. The record is inventive without being polarizing. It’s familiar without ever being a retread. In short, it simply feels right.

“You Don’t Get Me High Anymore”, the album’s lead single, is a perfect example of this style. The duo’s energetic style translates perfectly to this rock-infused pop style. It’s got a great chorus, a great verse, and a fantastic flow.

The only complaint you could leverage against the record is that it feels stuffed with ideas. They don’t all work well, but so many of them do that it’s hard to hold the bad ideas against the band.

For those of us who have musical ADD, all these ideas make Three refreshingly interesting. Each song is different from then one that came before it. Eight tracks in, “Run Run Blood” is different from anything that came before (and still an excellent song, with a totally surprising verse).

For some people, though, I suspect it’ll be the quieter songs that are more potent. Tracks like “Barking Dog” are impeccably well written and emotive. “Answer” is a track that hits exactly where it hurts, with a piano line that wouldn’t be out of place in a soap opera. (That’s not an insult; music should make us feel this way.)

For Phantogram fans, Three won’t be what they expect. Some of them will acclimatize, and some will not. For the rest of us, I think Three might be their best record yet. Time will only tell. In the meantime, ignore the critics. This record is the most approachable Phantogram record. Three is easy to listen to, easy to love, and still different enough to surprise.

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And I Had A Dram That You Were Mine is a heck of a record. Leithauser’s vocal performance is practically unhinged, as intimate as it is performative. He has the intensity of an evangelical pastor on the bridge of “Sick as a Dog”. While his voice might be an acquired taste for some (see “1000 Times”), Leithauser’s performance is among the best in indie music this year.

The music itself is excellent too. Vampire Weekend will miss Batmanglij on their new record — it’s clear from I Had A Dream That You Were Mine that he’s a large part of their creative force. (According to Vampire Weekend’s lead vocalist Ezra Koenig, Rostam will still be contributing to their upcoming record — but who knows how much of it, or in what in capacity.)

It’s easy to compare I Had A Dream That You Were Mine to Vampire Weekend. Not unlike Rostam’s former band, there are no rules here. No two tracks are the same, often shifting from one genre to another (sometimes in a single song). “In a Black Out” feels like a flamenco-influenced pop piece, but “Rough Going (I Don’t Let Up”) pairs ’50s doo-wop with an indie sing-along chorus.

“A 1000 Times” shares the same genes as Vampire Weekend’s “Obvious Bicycle”, but it’s got the urgency and intensity of a Walkmen song. “The Bride’s Dad” has all the intensity of a Bob Dylan song. “The Morning Stars” has the musicality of Vampire Weekend, but the energy of a Walkmen song — but still sounds completely different from anything else on the record.

To be doubly clear: there are no rules here.

You can’t classify Leithauser + Rostam’s debut. That’s likely the point. Both musicians have something to prove. As an album, I Had A Dream That You Were Mine is a statement of creativity. These men want to be known not for their bands, but for their creative abilities.

Like every record from The Walkmen and Vampire Weekend, I Had A Dream That You Were Mine is special. It’s oozing with creativity. Its songwriting is impeccable. And its performances are top-notch. There’s nary a bad track. I Had A Dream That You Were Mine is a rare treat, and one of the year’s best.

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Gold Complex is a mere five tracks long, which the band hopes will be enough to tide fans over while they record their debut. Almost all of the songs are show-ready, though, which makes them perfect for your laid-back house parties and live performances. (And word on the street is that the band’s got a killer show.)

You don’t need to look any further than “Backbone”, the band’s opening track. There’s a great moment just about three minutes into the track: a sax solo fires up in the middle of a track, and for a split second, you think it’s the vocalist gearing up for another verse. The solo’s surprising every time, and never unwelcome.

The blend of soul and pop continues on “O.G.”, which has a couple terrific bass lines. “Cities & Lovers” and “Katrine” slow things down a bit towards the end. These slow-burn tracks harken back to some of the biggest names in old-school soul and R&B. “Katrine” has my favourite solo moment on the record. It’s a simple scale-stepping solo at first, but the way the instruments all bounce off each other is delightful.

The music works because the band is able to pull off the blend so perfectly. Gold Complex (the EP) is a perfect blend of soul and pop that’s both completely impressive and utterly inoffensive — which makes it a great introduction to the genre for those of us who have a time approaching it. It also shows great potential for the band.

If the EP has any downside, it’s that it’s nearly too polished. Gold Complex could benefit from letting their music get a little rough around the edges. As it is, lovers of soul music might find the EP pandering. But if the band stripped away any of the polish, I don’t know if they’d have the same audience.

So let me just say it, and get the elephant out of the room: Gold Complex is soul music for white people. But the band is so good at it that it’s hard to fault them for it.

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Three years later, Groenland’s sophomore album feels so much more sophisticated and mature that it’s hard to believe it’s from the same band. Sabrina Halde is still undoubtedly the star, but she’s given a much larger musical expanse to play with.

A Wider Space is an apt name for the album. It feels as if the band wanted to sound bigger, larger in scope, without losing their quirks and charms. They succeed with flying colours.

This is obvious from the first track: “Nothing Personal” is better than anything on their previous record. The music has a lot in common with both French jazz and Canadian indie, but the band is finally coming into their own. “Distractions” takes some inspiration from St. Vincent. “Healing Suns” could become a hit (and at the time of writing, the most popular track from the band on streaming services).

The album works because it retains the intimacy of Halde’s voice, even while the instrumentation is growing. The band is jazzier than before, and they sound bigger than they ever have before. It sounds almost like they’re a larger band than they were before.

Part of this is because of a massive improvement in production quality, but that doesn’t account for everything on display here. The songwriting is much better. The title track is evocative of the band’s growth. With a wider array of instrumentation and more complex and intricate songwriting, the band has become much more dynamic.

In short, the songs on A Wider Space have developed a personality that goes well beyond quirks. The songs here have character without imposing it. In short, Groenland stepped it up. Their sophomore record is one that I’m happy to recommend. It’s an album I can embrace. It makes me feel warm fuzzies about indie pop. I think you’re going to love.

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In that light, perhaps it isn’t surprising to hear the band changing things up. I think Local Natives felt that Hummingbird took that style as far as it could go. Sunlit Youth is quite different.

If anything, Sunlit Youth is pure indie pop. “Dark Days” takes the band into directions they’ve never been before, but it’s emblematic of the whole record. But unlike most indie pop, Local Natives bring their famed attention to detail to most of the record. As a result, they create intricate moments that most indie groups (outside of Arcade Fire) are incapable of.

“Fountain of Youth” is a great example. The track has a massive chorus, as big as any indie anthem has ever been, but there’s a depth to the song’s arrangement that’s missing from most of the rest of the genre. The drums, vocal harmonies, distorted guitars, Edge-like guitar solos, and sparkly pianos and synths work together to create a densely-layered whole.

It’s a package that only Local Natives are capable of crafting. Each track sounds approachable and simple. But underneath that veneer, there’s a dense complexity few bands can pull off. Even their simplest songs, like “Coins”, feature instrumentation that most pop bands can only dream of.

In preparation for writing this, I read a few other reviews of Local Natives’ discography. I wanted to understand how some other critics viewed the band’s work. One reviewer said Sunlit Youth demonstrated the imprecise control Local Natives have over their instruments, and believe the album stretches them too thin.

I don’t hear that at all. Instead, I’m consistently surprised and delighted by complex tracks like “Jellyfish” and “Mother Emanuel”. On songs like these, the band feels in complete control — never unsure of their instruments.

Sunlit Youth is a new direction for Local Natives, but it’s not an unwelcome one. If anything, while the change is unexpected, it feels natural. Local Natives continues to pleasantly surprise me, and Sunlit Youth is an impressive achievement.

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Perhaps the lack of ego in Tuns shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, the band’s three members all hail from Halifax — and in Canada, we can’t have egos without repeatedly apologizing for them. Leaving egos out is just easier for Tuns; anything else would be un-patriotic. (If you’re not from Canada, you might think I’m joking. I assure you I’m not.)

Uniting Sloan’s Chris Murphy, The Inbreds’ Mike O’Neil, and Super Friendz’s Matt Murphy, the group largely writes power pop/indie rock that feels like a modern-day throwback to both the ’90s and The Beatles (“Look Who’s Back in Town Again” made me want to listen to Revolver).

But of course, it’s also much more than that. “Back Among Friends” opens the album by stating the obvious: these three guys have known each other for decades now, and it feels good to hang out and jam. Tuns is the definition of a feel-good record. Whether you’re familiar with the members’ other bands or not doesn’t matter — you’re going to have a good time.

Tuns is also the definition of a summer record: jangly indie with catchy choruses prevails. “Mind over Matter” and “Lonely Life” both have these fantastic, radio-ready choruses that carry all the sunshine and joy of long summer drives down the highway (and a clear ’90s influence). “Mind Your Manners” is the song that feels most reminiscent of some of Sloan’s work, with a verse that has all the propulsive energy that band is known for.

At the end of the day, Tuns feels like a bunch of friends having a good time. It feels like a record they always wanted to make — yet it sounds very different from the rest of their respective catalogues.

It’s clear that Tuns is a record that can only be made with the benefit of age and experience. This isn’t a record these men could have made when they first met, no matter how hard they tried. While their music is still as youthful and energetic as always, it leaves behind the issues of youth and strives for the earnest sincerity that comes with time.

Tuns is an excellent debut. It shirks ego in every way. It clears new creative ground for the gentlemen involved. But most importantly, it’s filled with great, catchy music. For lovers of pop-tinged rock, Tuns’ debut record is the perfect way to close out the summer.

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The three sisters that make up the band are phenomenal singers (although I couldn’t tell them apart with a blindfold on). They sound like they’re both a church choir and a power pop band — which is to say that they easily find the sweet spot between musical intimacy and big, broad hits. And they make it sound so easy!

At their best, Joseph’s songs sound like “Planets”. These are Spartan exercises that use the sisters’ voices as both melody and atmosphere, eschewing the big elements of pop for a more unique (and mesmerizingly beautiful) approach. While the songs are quieter, they’re perhaps the most attention-grabbing on the record.

They pull off similar magic on songs like “I Don’t Mind”, which relies almost entirely on their voices to carry the tracks in lieu of a strong beat. When they bridge pop and folk so effortlessly, they’ve really come up on something special.

But I suspect that they’re going to be popular for indie pop hits like “White Flag”, “Canyon”, or “SOS (Overboard)”. These tracks celebrate their voices and have hints of their folk pasts, but they’re more like giant pop hits that could fill stadiums. That’s not a complaint; these songs work well, but are different stylistically.

There’s something about them that’s clearly reminiscent of bands like HAIM, with the trio of ladies and harmonies singing over swirling indie pop beats. But where HAIM often feels like they’re masterminding their production, Joseph often feels authentically vocal-driven.

By the time the intoxicating “Sweet Dreams” fades out and the album is over, it’s clear that Joseph is a band in between places. In the past, they were a folk band. In the future, they’ll be summer heroes in the indie pop scene.

Now, though? Right now, Joseph is still figuring all this out. I worry that they’ll lose the folk sounds that make them unique one day, but despite that — or perhaps because of it — Joseph’s I’m Alone, No You’re Not is a terrific and unusual pop record.

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“Charlemagne” is an astounding single, justifiably getting a lot of accolades from the media. But I think the band really comes into its own on the second half of the record. In fact, if you were to divide Blossoms in two with “Onto Her Bed” as the midpoint, I think you’d have two halves of a record that reflect a band still gripping with its identity.

That’s normal for a debut full-length record, but it’s also necessary for a band with the influences Blossoms has: how can you mine bands like Abba, Hall & Oates, Duran Duran, Pet Shot Boys, and The Wombats while coming up with your own identity?

The answer, I think, lies in how you mix guitars and synths. (And I think Blossoms agrees with me.) There’s no genre better at straddling the lines between pop and rock than ’80s disco/rock/pop. The genre had a history of blending these instruments and sounds together into a single undefinable mass, and Blossoms is trying to find their place in that.

The second half of their debut feels much more intent on finding the upbeat place where these things blend. “Blown Rose” blends guitar sounds and pop noises in a remarkable Beatles-esque way, and it works swimmingly. “Texia” is full-blown rock, despite its instrumental trappings.

When people rave about how much they love “Charlemagne”, they mean they love the sound of Blossoms when the band comes into their own. “Charlemagne” is easily the track that sounds most like the second half of the record. While the album’s first half is great (“At Most a Kiss”’s fantastic vibe comes to mind), the second half is where the band really comes to life. I can cheer for a band that writes songs as great as “Smashed Pianos” or the astounding “Cut Me and I’ll Bleed”.

Blossoms is separated from their peers because you can cheer for them. They have a confidence that reminds me of the way Oasis barged onto the scene. Unlike Blossoms’ oft-referenced peers, The 1975, who often (despite the quality of their music) feel like punk kids unaware of their context, Blossoms feel like a band that want you to cheer for them. They know what they’re doing. They’re not purposefully writing throwback music — it feels like they were entrenched in that era’s sound for so much of their lives that it comes naturally and authentically for them.

Blossoms is restoring your faith in guitar-based rock and pop: the band is aware of their history and having fun with it at the same time. They have swagger and soul, and their debut record has me cheering. You couldn’t ask for more.

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