There’s something about strapping into a purring muscle car with a gorgeous young lady and taking those tight turns in Laurel Canyon, windows down and music cranked. Throw a stop in at the top to down a couple of coldies at the overlook, and BAM, I’ve just described the perfect afternoon. In this case, though, the car is a 1967 Chevy Nova SS, that pretty lady is Sarah Barthel of Phantogram, and your ass is in shotgun, or maybe the back seat or even the trunk— that’s entirely her call. When Barthel isn’t pedal to the floor, you might find this half of the New York-based duo slinking around stage and wowing the crowd with soaring vocals, like on their latest long-player Memory of a Day, a unique electronic pop record that delves deep into emotional themes of love, loss, and regret. But just because Barthel isn’t afraid to get sappy or introspective doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to handle that 283-cubic-inch V8. As a matter of fact, I’d advise you to mind your p’s and q’s, buster, lest you find your ass slammed against opposite sides of the trunk as she takes those Laurel Canyon S curves. Fuck around and find out, as the kids say.