Yes In My Backyard is a semiweekly column showcasing MP3s from new and emerging local talent. This is a compilation of 2010's best local music, lovingly curated by YIMBY columnist Christopher R. Weingarten. See last year's tape here.

R.I.P. Chris Weingarten's old blue trucker hat. Photo by Rebecca Smeyne.

​Have you heard the one about how the recession is over? Uh, don't tell it to New York City's musical community. While our center-of-the-universe assembly line of hype puttered on unabated, 2010's biggest up-and-comer success stories were actually beamed from the outer limits of the five boroughs--Titus Andronicus (Glen Rock, NJ), Screaming Females (New Brunswick, NJ), Phantogram (Saratoga Springs, NY), Real Estate (Ridgewood, NJ)--places where money can go to tour vans instead of landlords, where musicians aren't paying $400 a month for the luxury of sharing a practice space with three other bands. The remaining New York City indie-crossovers all benefited from frugal one-man home-recording set-ups (Oneohtrix Point Never, Matthew Dear), stripped down line-ups (the Drums, Sleigh Bells, Matt & Kim) or simply embracing the idea that sounding mushy is smarter than buying new gear (Small Black).

More >>

Yes In My Backyard is a semiweekly column showcasing MP3s from new and emerging local talent.

​Brooklyn's Year of the Tiger is a one-guy, one-girl mix of blown-out crunch-fuck noize and cheerful pop chants, but their silky scuzz is way more than the Pearl Jam to Sleigh Bells' Nirvana. Vocalist Sable Yong comes from the Le Tigre school of party-punk, yelling "Smash and grab!" in a way that's equally demented, angry, and totally fun. Pusher of buttons Henry Ivry, meanwhile, delivers nuanced noise that's more Dizzee Rascal than Steve Albini, manhandling monumental sirens, electronic whinnies, and nuclear drones.

Together, they add to Brooklyn's increasing list of dance bands that mix awesome grooves with oppressive bursts of noise--a micro-trend we'll certainly get behind before we ever endorse "witch house." The pair met as college chums who always bandied around the idea of playing music together, but didn't find their opportunity until last winter, when they both lost their jobs at the same time. "Economy fail," jokes Yong. It was a perfect time for focusing on creative endeavors rather than sulk. The few songs they've written certainly are more joy than pain, especially the gnarled squawker "Rockit." Ivry's track mixes woofer-wrecking 808s with a wail seemingly borrowed from Alec Empire's secret stash. Meanwhile, Yong plays hopscotch with the beat on some 1999 party-while-the-world-burns stuff. Good times. Download and interview below...

More >>