It’s who you know Japandroids make something out of Post-Nothing HOT PROPERTY: Japandroids

by GERARD DEE Last October, Vancouver rock duo Japandroids played a career-saving set at Bar St-Laurent 2’s SoundProof Showcase for Pop Montreal. That an up-and-coming band parlayed a festival gig into a record deal isn’t an unheard of occurrence, but the duo—whose debut full-length, Post-Nothing, is being heralded by North American music media tastemakers for finally bringing back some pop sensibilities to garage-recorded, lo-fi rock—was ready to pack it in before their fateful visit to Montreal. “We didn’t know how much longer we were going to keep going,” says drummer David Prowse. “We were facing the situation of having a full-length record and we were going to have to put it out on our own. Things were looking bleak for sure, but we figured we would put out this last record and if anything happened, great. If not, we would take a break afterwards.” Post-Nothing harkens back to ’90s Canadian post-grunge, although hidden deep within the guitar fuzz and savage drumming is some pretty simple, catchy pop music. The duo recorded Post-Nothing live, citing the raw energy of ’60s garage rock pioneers the Sonics as an aesthetic worth emulating. Japandroids’ six-month ascent from playing in front of friends and family in the isolated Vancouver music scene to being in the middle of their first North American tour can largely be attributed to frontman Brian King’s earnest lyrics, largely belted out in the form of staccato, matter-of-fact statements. His hometown’s rain-drenched climate is a favourite topic of conversation, but his concise reflections on failed relationships and moving on have connected with listeners all too familiar with lyricists brought up on coming-of-age-movie angst. “When I wrote the lyrics,” says King, who is recovering from a life-threatening perforated ulcer on the road, “we were still playing in front of our closest friends in Vancouver. So at that time, anything I was writing, I would have to be willing to sing in front of people I knew, so if I felt the lyrics were too personal or descriptive, I would purposely change it and make them more mysterious. You can’t really get up in front of your best friends and sing about how this girl that we all know broke my heart.“ WITH SLIM TWIG AT CLUB LAMBI ON TUESDAY, JULY 14, 9 P.M., $10