Call it the Pitchfork Effect: A young, unsigned band earns raves on a couple of music-geek websites, and before you can say “Arcade Fire” they’re playing sold-out shows with David Bowie in the crowd. This year’s beneficiaries are Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, an exuberant Brooklyn fivesome whose debut is perfect end-of-summer indie pop: jangly guitars and a rhythm section that knows everything sounds better when you’re nodding your head. Alec Ounsworth’s cracked, high-pitched yelp—somewhere between David Byrne and Eric Cartman—makes his tales of down-and-out youth tough to decipher, but that’s all secondary: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah is a giddy funhouse of a record, where the cure for everything from a broken heart to an empty wallet is to crank up the volume and do just what the title says.

DOWNLOAD: “Let the Cool Goddess Rust Away,” “The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth,” “Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood”