Pitchfork called Yeasayer "the latest entry to this group of Byrne disciples, and one of the better bands to put a new spin on his polyrhythmic convulsing," summarizing a sound that's been dominated by artists indebted to the Talking Head. That's certainly true, but Yeasayer doesn't fit that bill—the band pays tribute to different sources. The brooklyn quartet was the only band I saw twice during the festival and I spent a good chunk of time between their shows thinking about their sound. Their shows were some of the strongest performances I saw at the festival. The late show at Emo's IV was pitch-perfect; and while the outdoor concert at Waterloo Park found the band completely exhausted from a grueling SXSW schedule (the final lap of a long tour), even the band at its worst pulled off a compelling set.

The band's gained a following for its choral song style. Singer Chris Keating, guitarist Anand Wilder, and bassist Ira Wolf Tuton all contribute vocals, and the band's heavy use of reverb makes three singers sound like six. The minor harmonies and syncopated choruses pay tribute to metal rather than pop. And frankly, the band owes little to the postpunk roots that inform so many of their Brooklyn peers.

Keating's lyrics sound like they might have been penned by Neil Young or even, it occurred to me, Genesis: socially conscious, imagistic, trenchant, with an especial appeal to nature. The frequent invocation of summer, moon, night, etc., speaks vaguely to native or Western life. Lyrics to the band's hit single, "2080," couch political protest in the comforts of rural retreat—the problems facing society are massive and outstanding, but they'll pass, while the Good Life is enduring, to summarize. The instrumentals, on the other hand—in particular Wilder's synths and guitar stylings—seem to draw from a mixture of Eastern or Native American sounds. In general Yeasayer's sound bears a similarity to The Knife, and live, in fact, Yeasayer indulges in longer, dancier breakdowns than appear in the band's recordings. It's a formula that rocks, even Yeasayer's audience doesn't quite know how to dance along.

As the last song of the band's last set wound to a close, Keating lept offstage and ran off into the park. He'd said as the band began its outdoor set that his voice was nearly shot and the band's energy was certainly waning. I expect that the band's touring schedules are only going to grow more grueling.