Crunching Numbers: Phantogram.

Now that's what I'm talking about.

(If you haven't seen it, watch Phantogram's couch session here.)

Crunching Numbers: Mumford & Sons.

 Oh, Deusner. How could you!:

"Their debut, Sigh No More, is stocked with group harmonies straight from the Fleet Foxes warehouse, exaggerated earnestness on consignment from the Avett Brothers, some of the same rock "real"-ness that built the Kings of Leon brand, second-hand drama from that run on Keane a few years ago, and some insistent Gomez rusticisms gathering dust in the back room. It's not spot-the-influence if they're pushing them on you with a salesman's insistence."

Harmonious verses need not necessitate false accusations that the Mumfords ripped off the Foxes, though I suppose when you’re the lone writer who giddily handed out Best New Music annotations to the same band twice over for a debut album and their five-song EP, it can be easy to, oh I don't know, have a salesman's insistence — in addition to an unjustified bias and blatant slant.

Funny though, that you thoroughly describe Fleet Foxes as one with "a firm grasp on rock and folk history [that] never play to their record collection" and instead "cherrypick their ideas from a broad spectrum of styles, pulling in Appalachian folk, classic rock, AM country, and SoCal pop" but choose to instead accuse  Sigh No More of merely being plagiarism of various artists that either share a few generally acceptable musical influences or so sadly prove that you haven't got a drop of folk, bluegrass or country music in your iTunes library. (I mean, Gomez? Really? Does anyone who hasn't gotten a driver's permit within the past 18 months even listen to that?)

But, keep your chin up with these reviews, kid. I hear there's an award floating around for you, too.

Legrand Scheme Of Things.

Pitchfork.com Special Presentation: Beach House

I find this puzzling for two reasons:

1. I have a very hard time believing Beach House has their practice space inside a furry igloo, because frankly, sticking two men inside what appears to be the interior of a very clean Ugg boot would more likely yield an angry rap verse or furious metal music than dream-pop.

2. This sounds really good. Really, really good. Too good, even. It's not the same audio as on the album, but...something's up here. I mean, have you ever heard a live performance sound like this? A co-worker of mine thinks they recorded in the studio and then just shot the band performing to the playback, which actually seems to make sense.

And, well, maybe all of this sixth-season Lost stuff has gotten to my head, but take a look at 3:12 during "Take Care" - Victoria's fingers don't appear to be matching up with what's playing, but a bit afterwards, everything's in sync. Recording it live and dubbing it back over couldn't account for that, since everything would have to either sync or not sync. There would have to be another explanation...

Crap. I gotta stay away from all those those forums.

This Thing Kind Of Looks Like That Thing.

Top: The xx on Pitchfork.tv's Surveillance security camera-style series.

Bottom: MTV's Fear, where people are sent to a haunted factory or penitentiary and have to roam around alone with cameras and try not to panic. (I watched for :01 and all of my teenage terrors from this program came flooding back.)

Get Forked.

Pitchforked.com. Plays a random sampling of Best New Music from Pitchfork. Simple as that.

Created by internet madman genius Zach Klein, it's kind of like a Hype Machine of the music that was actually most popular - first few clicks fed me Antlers, Vampire Weekend and Dirty Projectors. Only downside is that there's no "skip track" option, meaning I have to listen to songs like "Stillness Is The Move" and Yacht's "The Afterlife" for the zillionth time. But, considering it's practically the Showtime Rotisserie of listening to streaming indie tunes, I'll take it.