Queens five-piece Freelance Whales were the last great buzz band of the ’00s, miraculously flourishing in those stale Internet weeks when everyone was obsessed with the “best music of the decade.” Hell, maybe it’s because they so effortlessly toyed with so many of the Indie Rock Decade’s most tried-and-true tactics? The hand-stitched, expansive emo warble of Bright Eyes and his Saddle Creek brethren; the banjo-pluckin’ avant-rural affinities of Blitzen Trapper or Sufjan Stevens; the fuzzy keyboard washes of Fuck Buttons; the electro-psych blips of MGMT; the sputtering soft-focus electronics of Postal Service; the way those Montreal bands layer giant harmonies and that friggin’ son-of-a-bitch glockenspiel; hell, even the sparse jangle of that Gary Jules Tears for Fears cover from Donnie Darko is in there somewhere. Their debut album, Weathervanes, even feels cinematic in a Decemberists way, despite a sparse 45-minute running time. Sure, their tireless blending is more Paste than post-modern, but fans of tender, vulnerable, majestic, wide-eyed indie rock should rejoice that these guys aren’t half-assing it in the slightest. With nu-kiwi art-folkie Lawrence Arabia and Australian wooze-dance crew Sherlock’s Daughter.

Tue., April 13, 8:30 p.m., 2010