It took me a few minutes to muster up the courage to listen to a band that’s actually called Twin Peaks, but the teenaged quintet earn the reference with their dreamy, surf-indebted guitar music. “Irene” sounds like something that might come rolling down out of an evergreen forest in a chrome-painted convertible; it’s slick and serene at the same time. Continuing Chicago’s output of reverb-drenched guitar pop bands like the Smith Westerns, we could do a lot worse than Twin Peaks for a buzz-building midwestern act.
