Garage-rock fans need not fear their genre falling by the wayside anytime soon. No, sir. Lately, Austin, Texas seems to be churning out more aspiring basic guitar bands than University of Texas grads. Austin’s SXSW festival was flooded with these lo-fi guitar-touting whippersnappers, but one stands as the clear winner. Harlem, the latest of the garage young'uns, continues to distinguish itself from its counterparts with the curiously named yet direct Hippies.

Harlem

Hippies
Matador

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It may be strange that a band whose songs rarely exceed two-and-a-half minutes and have a strong punk influence would choose to brand its album Hippies. But hey, why question the band’s motives when it churns out 16 blissfully brief hook-infused ditties in 40 minutes? There's barely enough time to grasp the frantic melody and sing-a-long chorus in tracks like “Number One” before they are over in a quick (and enjoyable) minute-and-a-half.

Hippies starts strong with opening track “Someday Soon.” The lyrics describe a person literally on fire. Said person would like a glass of water to put the presumably scorching fire out, to which the singer replies: “I say no / You can just let that shit burn.” Morbid? Maybe. Extremely catchy and energetic? Absolutely. By the time the bridge comes along, we're just waiting anxiously for the next rowdy and booze-fueled chorus of the singer pleading, “Please! Please! Please! / Put me out.” Ouch.

Though the album lingers a few more tracks than necessary, listeners are rewarded with its penultimate track. “Pissed” is a punk-leaning treat delivered with flippant humor and snark the likes of which haven’t been heard since the Buzzcocks’s “Oh Shit!”

Like most garage-rock bands, Harlem obviously takes some cues from ’60s underground compilation Nuggets, but it eschews that album's psychedelic flourish. Hippies’s 16 tracks could probably have been whittled down to a respectable dozen, but that doesn’t negate the fierce energy of nearly every song. The shared vocals of Michael Coomer and Curtis O’Mara are the perfect balance between drunk and charismatic, providing just the right amount of debauchery and pop mastery. The band’s hear-the-room recording style creates an endearing intimacy; it’s like you're sitting in a basement watching them jam to one microphone in the middle of the room.

Harlem gives a little taste of everything on Hippies: A frantic punk shriek-fest on “Scare You,” some slow ominous jamming on “Prairie My Heart” and an ode to ’60s bubble-gum pop on “Be Your Baby.” And with another song titled “Gay Human Bones,” what more could you want?