Bronwyn

This just in: It rains a lot in Portland, Oregon. Thank you, Captain Obvious. But meteorology is important to note when considering the musical meanderings of Portland's Bronwyn. The indie quartet evokes the soft gloom of cloudy skies using relaxed rhythms, staggered vocals and moody melodies that float cosmically like a swirling Pacific Northwest mist. Plus, all that rain gives the group a lot of time to practice the accordion. And the cello. And the Moog. The female-fronted foursome couples those instruments with conventional indie rocketry to create an often soothing experimentation that lies somewhere between Sleater-Kinney on sedatives and Cat Power without the nervous breakdowns. It's artsy enough for the black-turtleneck crowd but rocking enough to satisfy the ironic hipsters. If only the group had named its debut full-length something less whimsical than Through the Fog, Through the Pines. Damn hippies.