Peel

Peel

(Peek-a-Boo)

Austin has a deep commitment to the slacker ethic, which, despite a common misconception, isn't an enervate impulse. The slacker doesn't lack drive but rather is so overwhelmed with the paradoxical possibilities of boredom that embracing purposelessness becomes an ethical imperative. Enter Peel. The local quartet's self-titled debut is a sonic slacker treatise and call to (in)action. The album's an urban sprawl of restlessness that delights in a crashing din – horns, keys, big guitars, and bigger backbeats – all competing with fervently shouted vocals for a wonderfully pointless crescendo. Opener "Oxford" bounces with unbridled energy and disgust, as does the anthemic "In the City." "Sliding Doors" works Rolling Stones indifference across bluesy riffs, while "Tejax" and the Pynchon-esque paranoia of "1949" display Josh Permenter's lyrical penchant for premier slackers Pavement. If Richard Linklater ever documents 21st century urban malaise, someone should slip him some Peel. (Wednesday, March 14, Blender Balcony @ the Ritz, 8pm)

All Showcases Subject to Change