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.
Stereogum pointed out late Tuesday that a bunch of videos of mushy-gushy bedroom songwriter Christopher Owens of Girls performing songs both released and unheard showed up on the openingceremony.us blog this weekend.
“I wrote this song a coupla days ago, hadn’t played it for anybody yet,” he said before dedicating “Key to My Heart” to his girlfriend. The song (and several others here) didn’t appear on last year’s “Broken Dreams Club” EP, nor on this year’s fantastic “Father, Son, Holy Ghost,” suggesting he’s probably got a wealth of scribbled-in notebooks full of lyrics stashed away somewhere.
The filters on the video (it’s almost exclusively black-and-white, except for “Cold Again,” with splices of sepia color), Owens’ jean jacket and the folkie setup make these performances seem really timeless. Watch for yourself: