Emorie are a Toronto-based duo who play electronica-influenced rock featuring an electric violin and a female singer. The vocals and lyrics combine to give the impression that she is an English major who enjoys drinking tea while knitting quirky sweaters. One’s hopes for a delicately twee post-rock album given form by the intro of the first song are crushed within approximately ten seconds by the stultifying combination of her voice and her profoundly mediocre melody. The rest of the album continues in the folktronica vein opened up by the first track, but the tempos are speedy and the music is unmemorable. One imagines it soundtracking a self-styled urbane professional drinking chai latte at a small-time coffee shop in Brandon, sipping this yuppie elixir as the trebly drum machine provides rhythmic accompaniment. The subtle harmonies and pizzicato strings of “Seven” interweave as he stretches, ready to face a brand new day of telecommuting and yoga. He goes to his Smartcar, attempts to turn the radio on to NPR, and then realizes this is Canada and turns the radio to CBC Radio 2. Life is good for him. Basically if you’re into that sort of thing, you will probably be into Emorie. (Independent, emorie.bandcamp.com) Topher Duguay