Grandchildren

Grandchildren was born in a decaying Philadelphia show house called Danger Danger, where songwriter Aleks Martray lived in a little third-story room. Acts of impressive variety and clout passed through the original Danger Danger, including Parts & Labor, Dan Deacon, The War on Drugs and a surviving member of Sun Ra's Arkestra. Surrounded, day in and day out, by these eclectic artists, Martray almost couldn't help but form a band like Grandchildren.

But this Philly outfit, for all its fringe and underground influences, releases infectious, catchy music. The lush, thickly orchestrated indie rock on 2010's Everlasting is just glitchy enough to be odd. In 2011's music landscape, when digital bleeps and bloops are pretty much ubiquitous, Grandchildren incorporates these elements without overreaching. Similarly, Grandchildren brings in numerous global influences without limiting or pigeonholing itself. "Heartbreaker" plays like a rumba as re-imagined by wind-up toys, and, on "Saturn Returns," neo-flamenco guitar meets an Appalachian front porch shout-along. For all these strange stylistic hybrids, Everlasting—as a whole—is surprisingly accessible.

With the band on the rise, sharing stages with acts like Peter Bjorn and John, the six people responsible for Grandchildren's soaring sonic landscapes may no longer have to crowd onto small stages. I would conclude with a line about catching them while they're still small, but owing to the sheer depth of these textures, Grandchildren has never seemed small. —Corbie Hill