A love letter to Minus the Bear:

Dear criminally underrated Seattle indie rock quintet,

I love everything about you.

For instance, the way you balance complex time signature changes and finely honed musicianship with catchy pop sensibility. It takes a truly skilled collective to make music this intricate seem so natural.

Or the fact that Jake Snider’s bittersweet lyrics about lost innocence and simpler times are relatable not only to high schoolers who are experiencing the subject matter for the first time, but to grown adults twice their age who have been through it numerous times and have the benefit of hindsight. I love that Snider can make potentially corny lyrics like “It’s rare to feel this expensive/But next to a girl like her/It’s impossible not to” sound earnest and heartfelt. He delivers every line with a soft, no-worries croon that sounds as effortless as his band’s transitions.

Other things that make me love you:

Erin Tate walking a thin line between machinelike precision and manic liveliness on his drum kit and always finding room for jazzy fills between the notes.

The very same guitar taps Dave Knudson used to send neck-tatted hardcore kids into a frenzy at Botch shows in the late '90s have been altered ever so slightly to compel star-crossed teens to sway in each other's arms.

Your fans recognize your songs from the first few taps on said signature golden axe. Said fans sing along to every line of every song as if they’ve lived each narrative. They sang even louder than usual at the Boardwalk on Halloween night to alleviate the abuse on Snider’s sore throat.

You played Sacramento even though you had to cancel the night before because of Snider’s lost voice.

You played in costume for the first five songs until the stage lights proved way too hot for your attire. Cory Murchy’s banana costume was the wacky antitheses to his normally reserved demeanor.

Murchy always raises his right hand from his bass in between songs to give the thumbs-up sign to the crowd as if questioning whether the cheering contingent is enjoying the set.

Alex Rose replaced Matt Bayles on keyboards on 2007’s "Planet of Ice" and has since become an indispensable factor in the band’s maturity. His playing on the new single, “Into the Mirror,” fills the gaps between tapping and bleep, blip, bloop electronics to add an organic, analog feel to the track without overpowering the mix.

You don’t ignore any era of your discography and still play the “old stuff” in equal measure, even though it displays a schoolboy innocence and naivete your more recent material eschews for a darker tone.

You saved fan favorite “Pachuca Sunrise” for the encore and jammed on its ending for another few minutes because you knew we weren’t ready to go home yet. You could have used that time warp when daylight-savings time kicked in to play for all eternity, and no one would have complained.

May you rock every venue like you rocked the Boardwalk on Saturday. Everything was flawless, as usual. My love for you rivals that reserved for my future children.

Sincerely,

Greg