Canadians Die, Too

With the Arcade Fire's brilliant Funeral, the Islands' Return to the Sea and Wolf Parade's Apologies to the Queen Mary, you'd think Converse grew on trees in Quebec. Maybe that's because Montreal is the center of indie rock. And now with Sunset Rubdown, a quartet led by Wolf Parade's keyboardist and co-singer, Spencer Krug, it's gloomy rock will continue its nerdy history.

Spencer Krug started Sunset Rubdown as a way to explore his own music outside of Wolf Parade. Wearing his influences on his record sleeve, he began the new group as an echo of Modest Mouse's fidgety rock, the wobbly vocals of post-punk and his very own band, Wolf Parade. In 2005, he released Snake's Got a Leg (Global Symphonic), a bedroom-produced mess hinting at brilliance. Hiss-filled tracks like "Stadiums and Shrines" coupled with yelping vocals (albeit pretty ones on "I Know the Weight of Your Throat") were so sloppy they made the record want to stop playing itself. Zip to a year later and one excellent EP later, and Spencer's rounded up some friends and brought some terrific songs. 

Shut Up, I Am Dreaming, recently released on white-hot Berkeley label, Absolutely Kosher, is one of the best records this year. With instrumentalists Jordan Cramer, Michael Doerksen and Pony Up! Singer Camilla Wynne Ingr the 10 songs are more developed and complicated. And like Modest Mouse's early albums or the morose pop of Xiu Xiu, a balance of cut-and-paste lyricism, heavy-hearted themes and math teacher rock make this album memorable. Yet, even though morose is probably a sunny word for Shut Up, I am Dreaming there is still a playfulness of dark themes (death, babies getting eaten by birds, breakups, hipster injustices) and an endearing innocence that isn't found in much rock these days.  

Loud cymbals crashing and guitars running up scales begins "Stadiums and Shrines II," the album opener that finds Spencer hauntingly apologizing about a mother's death. The dark piano pop in "Us Ones in Between" finds Krug singing in a wobbly voice, like David Byrne is his dad. Sunset Rubdown play guitars like crayons. They're smart children writing love songs to invisible communities, tiny eulogies about moral emptiness. Thumbing their nose at shallow themes, pencil Sunset Rubdown is a band that will stay around. 

And they'll make you believe Converse are growing on trees.

May 24. Mercury Lounge, 217 E. Houston St. (at Ave. A), 212-260-4700; 7:30, $12.