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.
By the time Denton, Tex.'s Neon Indian took the stage at the Coca-Cola Center in Bricktown Sunday night, only about half as many people were in attendance as the night before. Much of the place's atmosphere seemed diminished for this, and the fact that ringing in 2012 was day-old news.
Nobody told Wayne or Yoko Ono, though, and each celebrated the stroke of midnight for January 2, 2012 with as much fervor as January 1. That ineffable enthusiasm seemed to stoke fans' fire more than any single piece of music possibly could, but Alan Palomo of Neon Indian really gave them a run for their money with the "Hex Girlfriend," "Deadbeat Summer," and "Polish Girl"'s disco beats, splotchy synths and catchy choruses. And dance moves. He's pretty well set in that department.
Another Plastic Ono Band set featured the previous evening's murderer's row of talent, fronted by Yoko's indecipherable but enthusiastic yowling.
"Race for the Prize," "Drug Chart," and a Palomo-assisted version of "Is David Bowie Dying?" all made the Lips' cut tonight. I swear, "Sweet Leaf," "Worm Mountain" and "Race for the Prize" all in a row is just enough gets me so amped up I could go run four or five marathons. It was the usual mess of ephemeral chest-beating and affection. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go hibernate the rest of Monday away.