Pitchfork

Geography plays a funny trick on the brain when listening to new music, especially when that new music is an unsigned band with a self-recorded EP. Suppose someone told you the Harlem Shakes were from, say, Albuquerque and they employed good use of that "Albuquerque keyboard sound." Now you probably never heard of a keyboard sound from Albuquerque, but you may find yourself knowingly nodding anyway, and you have instant (albeit false) familiarity with this brand new group. Well, the Harlem Shakes aren't from Albuquerque, they're from (surprise!) New York, a city that rouses about a gazillion times more presumptions about its bands than nearly anywhere else on Earth.

Blame it on the NYC indie explosion at the beginning of this decade, when bands as disparate as the Strokes, Interpol, and Yeah Yeah Yeahs were all credited with capturing the Big Apple's essence. At this point the label almost carries a stigma of pleasure and privilege, one which the Shakes-- a smart, young quintet that's run themselves ragged by endless touring and recording without a record deal the past few years-- just don't deserve.

Burning Birthdays drips with sweat and elbow grease, though the EP is hardly a taxing listen. Despite toting an array of genres and ADHD song structures, the band seamlessly bounces along with the continuity of a stripped-down pop punk band. "Red Right Hands" opens with an artsy post-punk guitar line that nearly buries lead singer Lexy Benaim's vocals before melting into a warm, shuffling blues chorus wrapped in 21st century keyboards. Adding some muscle to the band's sound, a wall of backing harmonies supports nearly every song, a secret weapon that works especially effectively on opener "Carpetbaggers". While Benaim's thin vocals sometimes feel lost amidst the swirling instrumentation, the rest of the band coats nearly every melodic line on this track with a sunny splash of Beach Boys-style harmonies, elevating a simple ditty into full-fledged power pop anthem.

Unlike so many up-and-coming New York bands, the Shakes avoid lingering in one narrow-minded framework. The harmonies may lend themselves to some throwback Spector-era comparisons, and some of the grander choruses may resemble a primordial New Pornographers or Walkmen, but thanks to a frenetic clip of hooks, you can't simply pigeonhole Burning Birthdays. Like a lot of young bands, the Shakes make several impressive nods to their formidable iTunes library, but a distinctive sound hasn't quite jelled yet. While 90% of Burning Birthdays feels like a tangential homage to the band's pet influences, the remaining portion hints at exciting things to come. This five-song combine workout proves the Shakes have the mental and physical tools to succeed at a higher level, but for now they're just blue chip prospects taking all their cues from the pros.