Brandon Summers (left) and Benjamin Weikel

BEAVERTON, Oregon, USA--For many years, Native Americans occupied a village near the Tualatin Valley called "Chakeipi," or "Place of the Beaver." A small agricultural town, Beaverton incorporated in 1893.

All these years of textbook Americana later, Beaverton is a sprawling, soul-crushing maze of car dealerships and prefab single-family townhouses, better known for its massive Nike campus than a fertile music scene. But from these sodden streets, Benjamin Weikel and Brandon Summers secretly plotted, via mu lti-instrumental knowhow, the city's next great cultural landmark--the Helio Sequence.

With their Com Plex release in 2000, Weikel and Summers immediately garnered a loyal Portland following, with lush six-minute symphonies and MIDI-triggered, Pink Floyd-affected live shows. The next year's Young Effectuals upped the ante, marrying newfound confidence with improved home-studio gadgets for an even spacier, richly rewarding Helio Sequence longplayer.

They've since kept a relatively low profile in Portland--drummer Weikel's temporary stint with indie megastars Modest Mouse notwithstanding. But an unlikely pairing sent the industry wheels spinning and helped the Helio Sequence head beyond Oregon. "We would book our own tours up and down the West Coast," Summers says. "Out of nowhere we get a call from Echobrain, Jason Newstead from Metallica's band. Their singer had seen us in San Francisco; there were 20 people there, and he was one of them."

An offer from Echobrain for a 30-show proved irresistible, so the pair quit their jobs at a Beaverton music store. That tour would set off a chain of hype leading to the duo inking a deal with Sub Pop, and Love and Distance picks up right where Young Effectuals left off. Leadoff track "Harmonica Song" immediately stands out, repeating a blasting mouth-harp riff. Summers' gritty voice sweeps in majestically before a falsetto break, bracing for the harmonica's return. At nearly six minutes, it's the longest track on Love and Distance, but not a moment is wasted.

"I wanted to make everything a little more effective," guitarist/singer/harp-slinger Summers says. "There are a lot of beautiful subtleties you can pick out, but this album pared things down. Doing the production ourselves, we're constantly learning, and it goes hand in hand with songwriting."

Weikel adds, "We sat down after Young Effectuals and said, 'Let's turn down all the effects and try to write good songs.' [Love and Distance] is a lot more stripped-down and more honest, a lot less of us trying to do things, and more of it being what it is."

"S.O.S.," another single-worthy track, is cut from the same Beatles-esque cloth as much of Com Plex. But "Repeater" could be the album's highlight--with uptempo Stone Roses-clone guitar lines, syncopated keys constantly pushing the rhythm forward and an uplifting, windmill-chorded Who-like chorus, it's an iTunes anthem in waiting.

The entirety of Love and Distance is unmistakably the Helio Sequence, a triumph of production and songwriting not lost on the band. "People have this conception of our band having a song, a skeleton, and then going overdub-mad on it," Summers says. "There's really next to no overdubs."

A teen garage band's dream, this duo is poised to grab onto the torch currently held by Portland-area bands (the Shins, the Thermals) recently thrust into the big time by the storied Sub Pop label. A coveted opening slot this spring on the Pixies' comeback visit to Eugene helped cement their Beaverton-hero status. As did their Spinal Tap-like Echobrain tour.

"One time I walked in on [Newstead] wearing spandex underwear, doing yoga stretches to hardcore music. I was just looking for water, and he stopped, paused his music and started walking around the room handing me water, orange juice, Gatorade. Two full hands of beverages," laughs Weikel.

You won't see that in Beaverton.

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The Helio Sequence plays with Menomena and IQU Saturday, June 26, at the Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside St., 225-0047. 9 pm. All ages.