Pit Er Pat

Imagine Japanese-Italian cream-tone trio Blonde Redhead stripped of its guitars with keyboards substituted, the players replaced by Americans, and the gauzy art-rock compressed into crisp, efficient indie. That should give you a pretty good idea of what Chicago threesome Pit Er Pat is about. There’s an anxious, OCD fluidity at work in Shakey‘s nine songs. No note, drumbeat or maraca shake feels wasted, the vocal lines (everyone gets a turn at the microphone here) often mirror melodies, and the deliberately enunciated lyrics drive home some bizarrely profound messages: Domesticated life kills youthful idealism; to acquire lots of feathers, one must buy them from someone who probably killed birds; when you play with oceanic undertow, you gamble with your life. These ideas are powered by Fay Jeffers-Davis’ inquisitive, scaling keyboards; Rob Doran’s able, melodic bass; and the busily intricate kit work of Butchy Fuego, who boasts the most awesome rock name ever.