There's something sinister lurking below the silo-like surface of Apple's Acre, in the gray areas between the Portland trio's disembodied harmonies, drunk & disorderly drum circles and skittering, scampering synths. Actually, sinister isn't the right word — creepy, maybe, but not sinister. After all, the Nurses toe a very fine line between spirit-lifting optimism and heart-jabbing melancholy. Far from standard singer/songwriter fare or guitar-toting indie rock, it's as if they've created a self-contained world, a claustrophobic soundtrack that suggests Fraggle Rock's dysfunctional family reunion or at the very least, a tighter version of quirky/quixotic groups like Akron/Family and Evangelicals. The difference lies in just how relentless the Nurses 'rhythm section is. While they're certainly not clobbering you with bottom-heavy bass lines or punchy percussion patterns, the band refuses to let a song breathe for 35 solid minutes. Verses bleed into choruses, water droplets ricochet off lumbering breaks, and a song like "Caterpillar Playground" is true to its title: a cartoonish blend of clucking, whistling and chirping, washed down with steady cymbal crashes and mystical piano melodies. Hypnotic and haunting with nary a cliché in sight, Apple's Acre takes quite a few listens to crack, but once you're inside,… read more »