Local Natives’ album Gorilla Manor is a fiery debut for the Silver Lake, Calif., musicians. With a strong vocal resemblance to folk-crooners Fleet Foxes, as well as heavy, driving percussion and ethereal, plucky guitar, this recently formed band has pinpointed and expanded upon the strengths of some of today’s most popular indie bands.

The opening track, “”Wide Eyes,”” introduces listeners to the Local Natives’ aesthetic. Heavy percussion mixed with reverberating guitar and breezy vocal harmony plants listeners in what sounds like a tribal trek through a rain-drenched forest — one that is suddenly interrupted by an explosion of synth-laden chords. It’s mysterious and oddly charming, to say the least.

The next track, “”Airplanes,”” expands on this playful aesthetic, with oddly ad-libbed guttural yelling included in the beginning of the track. It’s almost too raw — something that sometimes hampers the success of Gorilla Manor; the next track, “”Sun Hands,”” also devolves into rabid screaming that is somewhat out of genre. 

Local Natives smother such moments of rabid passion between plush vocals and structured percussion which almost wipe the listener’s memory of any earlier aggression with velvety loveliness.

Other notable tracks include “”Cards & Quarters,”” a slow, percussive track that somehow manages to sound fresh despite an almost overpowering bassline. 

Heavy basslines are Local Natives’ specialty, as “”Who Knows Who Cares”” belts to its listeners. Using strings, horns, glossy guitar, piano and expressive vocal harmonies, the track is a refreshing experience, with shaky cymbals splashing uneasily throughout.

“”Who Knows Who Cares”” is smooth like water, tinged with just enough melancholy to leave us a little uneasy: “”Is my life about to change? / Who knows? Who cares?”” Suddenly, we’re back in a teenage wasteland of apathy, and it’s cleaner and more beautifully dissonant than we ever could fashion ourselves. With Gorilla Manor, Local Natives have made a powerful splash on the indie scene.