Got through a song and a half of Real Estate's self titled before I ran into my British coworker on the train. She was reading On the Road, I guess trying finally to become fully American. Some things you just get at birth. The Real Estate boys, suburban Jersey proud, would never be mistaken for anything else but hearty US folk, just like everyone on the C train. Apparently my iPhone has these songs in the wrong order, so "Beach Comber" is first for me, then "Pool Swimmers." "Beach Comber" always gets a little air drum snare roll and then a little guitar comes in and, if I'm lucky, getting a little air guitar in there. Who am I kidding? I'm always lucky! That's the easy beauty of this band, forever pleasant and reliable, like Netflix streaming, or your sister as an adult. My sister lives up in Vermont, a good place to listen to Real Estate, cow farms and lots of leaves. Billboards are illegal up there, so maybe it's harder to tell where the suburbs begin and end.