Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin, Ha Ha Tonka, Our Cat Philip - Skully's

If Zach Braff were still making mix CDs of his favorite artists to soundtrack his movies, I imagine Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin filling the spots once reserved for the Shins. Like a more cumbersomely named cousin, the band’s hook-laden indie pop songs are in the same extended family.

But at Skully’s on Sunday night, SSLYBY couldn’t recreate its super-clean, catchy sound effectively. The Springfield, Missouri, band came off as young and inexperienced, replacing boyish exuberance with bland stiffness. On Pershing, the band’s latest and mostly solid album, even songs like “Think I Wanna Die” somehow come off as gleeful and peppy, which made the concert all the more disappointing.

To be fair, a lot of this was probably due to the lead singer/guitarist losing his voice. Those sweet harmonies didn’t work, and every note felt like the tippy top of his register--a bad combination for SSLYBY’s nice little pop songs.

Actually, referring to him as the lead singer/guitarist might not be completely accurate, as he eventually switched to bass, surrendering the singer/guitarist spot to the former drummer as the former bassist then sat behind the kit. But the sometimes-drummer’s awkward timidity and strained voice weren’t much better. He did a fine job with “Modern Mystery,” though, buoyed by the song’s bouncy beat.

The band also threw in a cover of Arrested Development’s “Mr. Wendal,” a song I hadn’t thought about in years. It was a good diversion and a pretty fun choice, but mostly for nostalgic reasons, as the drummer-singer had no flow whatsoever.

With no last-song warning, “Oceanographer” wrapped up the set unexpectedly while the crowd stood waiting for an encore that never came. It was an anticlimactic ending to an underwhelming performance.

Fellow Springfield natives Ha Ha Tonka fueled their set with more Ozark energy and a sound that made it much more obvious the band hails from Missouri, coating good ‘ole rock-and-roll with a crispy southern crust. If you sometimes wish Kings of Leon had a better singer and more ferocious guitar, Ha Ha Tonka would probably be a good remedy.

All four of these guys can sing their hearts out, as they showed on an a capella cover of the traditional Southern folk song “Hangman.” It knocked me out. Ditto for a newer song called “12-Inch Three-Speed Oscillating Fan.” Though he probably should have saved his voice, Yeltsin’s John Robert Cardwell hopped on stage for the tune, as did the headliner’s guitarist, though most of his contribution involved dramatically eating a sandwich. Oh, and a skinny, long-haired dancer dude joined the conglomerate, as well. With arms and legs akimbo, his oddly frenetic, hypnotizing gyrations were an entertaining sideshow throughout the night.

Singer/guitarist Brian Roberts stuck with an acoustic most of the set, letting guitarist/keyboardist Brett Anderson handle the big, chunky guitar chords and smoking leads. (Anderson also did a fine job on lead vocals for one of the set’s more mellow tunes, “Falling In.”) I didn’t pay much attention to the lyrics, but no matter--the performance spoke for itself.

Opening the show was local act Our Cat Philip, an OSU band I knew nothing about but really enjoyed. Singer Max Sollisch’s high-pitched, quavery, crackly voice was eccentric in a way that reminded me of the Mountain Goats’ John Darnielle--a good thing. The songs were alternately driven by keyboard and guitar and always backed by a thick cello and/or violin string section.

It’s tough to put Our Cat Philip into any specific category, but the band employs the sort of simple, twee-folk melodies that make people bob their heads from side to side instead of front to back. The heart-on-the-sleeve lyrics could sometimes be a little cloying, but overall the melancholy ditties satisfied nicely. The band deserves some more of Columbus’s attention, and I anticipate they’ll get it soon enough.