
Generator (First Floor)
Queens kids who met on Craigslist and busked subway platforms, then made banjo and glockenspiel sound euphoric.

Queens kids who met on Craigslist and busked subway platforms, then made banjo and glockenspiel sound euphoric.

Rosenberg cut it in a Sydney studio with Australian session players, and a Dutch fan's email set it loose.

Track four on Writer's Block, self-produced by the trio, and its plainest study of being left behind.

James Ford produced it, all three sisters wrote it, and the harmonies turn a plea into a groove.

Paul Epworth produced it, and Foster points the synth hook at everyone too eager to conform.

Seven minutes long, never a single, self-produced by the trio, and the longest slow burn on Writer's Block.

Richard Linklater put it in Boyhood and its trailer, and the Keefe brothers' harmony now sounds like growing up.

Voice, guitar, and a 1959 Phil Phillips hit slowed to a whisper; Juno carried it to a new audience.

Ruess wanted a hip hop producer and Paul Simon's harmonies; the sleeper took seven months to reach number three.

Two minutes long, given away to fans who posted flyers, and jangling its way toward something like salvation.

Angelakos built each verse from a man in his own family who immigrated, then set financial ruin to synths.
Cut to 24-track analog tape at Sonic Ranch in Texas, gauzy organ, Legrand singing a relationship dissolving.

Vernon strips Reid and Shamblin's Nashville ballad to falsetto, then slips into Raitt's "Nick of Time" at the end.

Gibbard wrote it for his girlfriend, Walla produced at a Massachusetts farm studio, ten weeks atop Adult Alternative.
Tamborello mailed beats from Los Angeles; Gibbard answered with a dream he would rather not wake from.

Cut in the basement of Mercer's Portland house, a breakup song that starts at a whisper and detonates.

Snowed into a Prince Edward Island farmhouse, Rankin wrote a proposal song; VanGaalen cut it in Calgary.