Power Pyramid doesn’t have much patience for nonsense. That appears to be the takeaway from the Oklahoma City quintet’s last 10 months, which brought The God Drums in September, the Insomnia EP in January and its latest, self-titled effort in July.
The world is in the midst of an electronic music renaissance, and you find most of this boon of producers laying claim to the club-friendly, bass-dropping variety, holing up in the the free-flowing world of hip-hop beatmaking or pitching their tent on the out-there, boundary-pushing EDM camp.
Broncho has never been hurting in the hook department. The success of the trio’s 2011 debut, Can’t Get Past the Lips, was predicated mostly on its ability to marry melodies with kinetic guitar riffs and anarchic energy. Yet we’ve heard nothing to the degree of pure pop catchiness on display in “Class Historian,” the new single from Broncho’s upcoming sophomore album, Just Enough Hip to Be Woman.
No one wants to be forgotten; everyone wants some sort of legacy, a mark they leave behind as they exit this life for whatever lies beyond.
And for as long as there has been death, there have been monuments — whether austere or understated, abstract or concrete, prominent or tucked away in private — erected by the ones they loved to assure that remembrance, at least for a time.
Stoney LaRue 8 p.m. Saturday Riverwind Casino 1544 W. State Highway 9, Norman riverwind.com 322-6000 $18-$28
Saturday night, Stoney LaRue will play a sold-out show in the glitz and glam of Norman’s illuminated Riverwind Casino. Ten or so years back, he played the same city on a weekly basis at the humble, beloved The Deli.
Although the Red Dirt icon appreciates the huge production and massive capacity — now necessary to house his legions of fans — of a place like Riverwind, he’s not done longing for the quiet comfort of those simpler nights.
“I was always a fan of the saying, ‘The people make the church.’ At The Deli, things were just so laid-back, and you could always bounce new songs off the crowd. I loved it, and I’d like to go back there and join Travis Linville on a Monday night again,” he said. “[I enjoyed] being out there and in the middle of the people you were singing to. Not losing that pulse of the crowd.”
Like most of the Red Dirt heavy hitters, LaRue hasn’t lost touch with his roots as brethren in pop or even Nashville country might.
“The whole way we started and the foundation we built on, there was always room for everybody,” he said.
“It wasn’t all about setting yourself apart from the pack, it was more about setting the pack apart from everything else. We’re all brothers.”
He means that figuratively and literally. His brother, Bo Phillips, is also a musician, and the tie they feel with the others might as well be blood, too.
“There’s a truth and an honesty,” LaRue said. “I think it’s easy to see that camaraderie isn’t fake, because we were riding together back when we were nothing.”
LaRue is arguably the most successful of the Red Dirt solo artists. In August, he released his second studio album, “Velvet,” six years after his debut, the aptly titled “The Red Dirt Album,” after spending 250-plus days on the road a year for more than half a decade.
“I’m glad that it’s done, and I can finally start the next one. And I’m glad it’s not total shit,” he said. “I think it captured those six years that were lost out on the road. This happened at the perfect time: right when it was supposed to.”