The Philadelphia music scene is a beast. It's given to mutation and stagnancy, as adept at wallowing in its own filth as it is at striking out to affirm its primacy.

Vile's an upbeat guy, but he does agree that Halo's got a cynical undercurrent. See lines like "Society is my friend, it makes me lie down in a cold bloodbath."

The former's slick and rocking. The latter's dirty and dancing.

Sudden mood swings are a fine test of a band's mettle.

If this city can still afford the bronze and concrete when the time comes, you'll see a star on Broad Street with Sara Sherr's name on it one day.

For power pop fans, Paul Collins is royalty.

My pal Jon Solomon's gotta be the second most-beloved Christmas Jew of all time.

You can dance to Free Energy. You can bop around in your socks to "All I Know" and sing along to "Bang Pop" till your headphones fly off. You can hum their rabbit-punching riffs and catchy choruses and just feel great.

There's something kinda precious about naming your band after a kids' show, but Reading Rainbow's more ballsy than cute.