Mew Sick

It’s a glum grey morning here in D.C., raining just enough that it’s annoying but not hard enough to count as a serious downpour—a sort of apathetic rainfall, just going through the motions, which is maybe appropriate for a Friday before a holiday weekend. Approaching a long weekend (and the sort unofficial end of summer) this sort of gloomy weather might irritate some people, but I’m of the opinion that this is pretty much perfect weather for staying inside and watching movies and listening to music. Speaking of which, let me make a couple of recommendations for the musically minded.

Dance punk is back (though you have to ask: did it ever really leave?). Supersystem and The Rapture both have new albums out or about to come out, and they’re both pretty much full-on hipster disco assaults (and I mean that in the best possible way). The thing about Supersystem is that somehow, they channel the whole D.C.-Fugazi-Dischord aura—zany, angular, quirk-punk with off kilter grooves—and at the same time they maintain a total electro-beat danceability; there’s even a freaking slow dance ballad. This is class-A prom-material; grab your indie rock sweetheart and hold her tight.

If Supersystem manages a perfect distillation of both the D.C. sound and the how-is-this-still-happening dance punk craze, The Rapture does the same trick for the New York scene. It’s new-wave eyeliner punk for coke-addled 1979 club kids, all swagger, bell bottoms and scraggly chest hair. The band's not quite as discombobulated as Supersystem, and not quite as manic either, but they make up for it in smooth moody cool. This is the kind of album that ought to come with bottle service and a table for your posse.

Speaking of posses, I have to admit: this is pretty silly, but it’s also pretty amusing at times, and some of my esteemed (and, yeah, totally double-T hott) coworkers made the Hottest Policy Types voting list. Still. A think-tank blog. Honestly, people. Much to the chagrin of the Eggers crew, I do believe snark has won.