Here it is, "Quarters," the title track and first single from Truckasauras' upcoming sophomore album. Last we left our heroes, Adam Swan, Tyler Swan, Ryan Trudell and Daniel Bordon comprised the best band in Seattle, and they were using current machinery and synthesizers of yore to take instrumental electro-hop into majestic, emotional territory. They still are, but on "Quarters," we witness newly danceable briskness from the former Kirklandites. The song's swing-skip drums have a musical tone to them, and a rattling intensity that demands a clockwise turn on one's volume knob. The rhythm supports a two-part melody: an upward-moving dissected chord is the main motif, a screaming arpeggio sequence its companion. Halfway through, "Quarters" undergoes a headbending key change. Throughout, synthesizers are fat and forward but also squiggly and backgroundy. There's plenty of atmosphere, but the song feels lean.

Image made from video stills of a live "Quarters" performance

Tacoma gorgeousness: The Skins' "St. Maria" darkly sashays through a narcoleptic, single-string guitar verse into a raw, blooming chorus. It starts like The Zombies' "Time of the Season" — a bass note, a click, a reverb-y vocal exhale — and then goes gothic R&B, with singer Paul Dally ecstatically groaning through anti-romance, sitting in a pew alone in a church, cursing the departure of a loved one. Dylan Treleven's guitar playing is a model of restraint, hook-y and watercolor-y. I was hipped to The Skins by one Dawson Allen. The group is blowing my mind right now. It's on Dear Records, which I'd never heard of.

L-R: Paul Greenfield Dally, Dylan Treleven, Clyde Kurtis, Gregory Roberts; image by Violet

Seattle's Unnatural Helpers presents "Sunshine / Pretty Girls," a fuzz-guitar pop-rocker about never quitting smoking or drinking, imposing a death sentence on oneself because, as singer/drummer Dean Whitmore's lyrics state, "I don't care about sunshine / pretty girls." Whitmore's dichotomy of cigarettes and alcohol vs. sunshine and pretty girls is comically artificial, and delivered (with assisting vocals from bass player/singer Kimberly Morrisson, also of The Dutchess and the Duke) with so much fun/droll energy, I have to assume his worldview also makes room for fulfilling one's life by playing loud rock 'n' roll music.

When I consider the name "Unnatural Helpers," I think of the club in my high school in Kirkland, WA, called "Natural Helpers." It was a peer group for kids who wanted to help others with emotional or academic hurdles. I don't think cigs and booze were part of the Natural Helpers' therapy program, but I'm not sure.