Raleigh

Raleigh’s Training Wheels EP is like an indie-rock artichoke: If you peel back the layers of influences, you’ll find quite a delectable core underneath. Listen closely and you’ll hear the trappings of Modest Mouse’s frayed exuberance as the outfit transmutes angst into fragmented melodies. There are also hints of Sunny Day Real Estate’s emo spikiness and Sebadoh’s adventurous slacker aesthetic. Elsewhere, “Hollywood, Florida” sounds like a furious melding of Slint and 764-Hero. But rather than come off as another wearying example of indie kids flaunting everything they absorbed from their older brothers’ record collections, the members of Raleigh tap into the rawness, energy and cleverness of their inspirations without ironic self-consciousness. And when the band loses its frenetic awkwardness — kicks off the training wheels, as it were — Raleigh rides with the big kids.