Personally, I didn’t believe that indie-pop could rise again.

That’s not to say that I didn’t want it to. I mean, love Heavenly and McCarthy records as much as the next bookish, sensitive, horn-rimmed glasses-wearing guy. But in keeping with that indie-stereotype, I thought I was completely alone in a lonely world of philistines and haters and that C86 was dead. You know, right up there with IDM on the scrap heap of unsalvageable sub-genres.

Fortunately, I was wrong, though. Slumberland is back to putting out good records, Vivian Girls have music videos, and when I was at SXSW I couldn’t cross the street without stumbling into a Crystal Stilts show. And now there’s Liechtenstein, who do pretty much the same naive and reverb-soaked style of pop as the bands listed above, only with elegantly arranged vocal harmonies.

Liechtenstein, Sundresses @ Velvet Lounge
915 U Street NW
9 pm, $8

In a good way, indie rock got smaller in 2008.

D.C. rediscovered its love for vinyl (the story of the year is the resurgence of the mom-and-pop record store). A neighborhood—Mount Pleasant—stood up against anti-live-music NIMBYs. Even a local band or two seemed to surprise all of us (Deleted Scenes).

There’s a new underground, a real underground, working overtime in a group house in the District, and Iowa City, and every place in between. This new underground doesn’t have much of an Internet presence (no standard wiki page, packages sold via checks-in-the-mail). This underground has started releasing hand-made tapes (again). Its fuzzy folky CD-Rs were this year’s mix tapes.

Some of the year’s best music couldn’t be labeled. Some of the year’s best music couldn’t be found on Pitchfork. I wish I could have digested all of it. I wish I could have given a deeper listen to Wet Hair, Children’s Hospital, Kria Brekkan, Ducktails, Mark McGuire, and so on. But here’s my favorite indie releases of the year so far:

1. Ruby Suns: Sea Lion (Sub Pop)

In a year where everyone copied a bit from the New Zealand sound all over again—kiwi pop was almost as big as afropop as a selling point this year—the Ruby Suns are one of the few who didn’t fall for either the tribute to Paul Simon (Vampire Weekend) or plunder the Flying Nun catalog. Leader Ryan McPhun, a Californian who has made New Zealand his home for years, combines Afropop congas, ‘80s dance beats, and even a tribute to the Mojave Desert (now, well, a tribute to Mojave, some new Microsoft thing). It’s what Neutral Milk Hotel would sound like now. I wrote about the band’s live show at the Black Cat a while ago and filmed a bit of its performance.

Listen to “Tane Mahuta”

2. The Woods: Some Shame [Tour-Only Cassette]

Here is a band that scores zero mentions on Metacritic, has gotten no reviews on Pitchfork. They release cassettes, CD-Rs and limited runs of vinyl. They put so much stuff out, they seem like an empire. They are a band for message boards and word-of-mouth. None of this means anything except that these Brooklyn DIY tapeheads aspire to real-not-virtual audiences, not hegemony or to be heard on a Gossip Girls episode. The Woods produce music that actually feels personal, and maybe even truly free sounding. Listening to Some Shame is like what it felt like to discover Weed Forestin’: ­woozy psych, bursts of noise, secret knowledge. It’s a feel-good weirdness you decode only when you can’t sleep. (For me, that’s a lot of the time.)

Listen to “Military Madness”

3. Yoro Sidibe: Yoro Sidibe (Yaala Yaala)

A Towson professor, Jack Carneal, finds himself mesmerized by the plunky, preachy sounds of ancient Malian hunters music. So he seeks out the master. What he brings back is trance music, story songs for the dance floor whether centuries ago or right now. You’ll want to crank this up. I wrote about the record for the Post.

Listen to “Track 3″

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