Brooklyn art-rockers High Places took until September to release a full-length album, but they’ve been the most beloved band in the city since sometime last year. This status, in New York, is often pretty much the equivalent to Sports Illustrated’s cover jinx—adulation, followed by a blown-out knee or addiction to painkillers. So imagine the collective surprise when, over the summer, the tracks to the duo’s self-titled debut trickled out, and no one could figure a single mean thing to say about ’em. The band’s barely-there, oddball instrumentation—bells, tinny percussion, breathy vocals, laptop—hides miles of melodic savvy; their surprisingly loud shows have been known to blow far less gentle bands off the stage. The record’s beautiful, strange, and not at all ruined by the fact that you weren’t the first person to write about it on the Internet.
More from the Voice‘s Best of NYC 2008 here.