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.
Watch the legendary Paul Simon make lemonade out of lemons.
By November 7th, 2011
Paul Simon wouldn’t let a technical problem stop him from giving a memorable concert at the OKC Civic Center last night. The 12-time Grammy winner grabbed his guitar, band and PA, headed out to the lobby to play four of his most famous songs in a row.
Read Oklahoma Gazette copy editor Tricia Dameron’s account of the evening below:
“As we were filing to our seats, I heard an announcer say ‘in lieu of’ and ‘sorry’ and ‘lobby.’ Just as we had finally reached our seats, we found ourselves obediently shuffling out of the concert hall.
“A Civic Center usher calmed our fears and informed us that there had been problems with the soundboard, and that to make up for the delay, Paul Simon would perform a set in the lobby. Then, we would go back in the concert hall to hear the Punch Brothers and a second set from Paul. Woot!
“My friend and I claimed a perch in a staircase where we could gaze down on Paul's cute, bald head. The Civic Center ushers were attempting to keep concertgoers on their respective levels to no avail. It was clear that some belligerent, middle-aged men had enjoyed too many Horny Toads — the Civic Center serves Coop! — and wanted to get as close to Paulie as they could!
“All afternoon, I had been humming, ‘Well, I'm on my way / I don't know where I'm goin',’ so when the band opened with ‘Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard,’ I started beaming. Members of the opening band, the Punch Brothers, accompanied Paul, and the lobby of the Civic Center became the stage for an enthusiastic sing-along. He followed with ‘Mrs. Robinson,’ ‘Cecilia’ and ‘The Boxer,’ and then said, ‘See ya inside.’
“Shortly after, the Punch Brothers took to the main stage and joked with the crowd, asking, ‘How many bands get to say, “Paul Simon opened for us?”’ I wasn't familiar with them before the show, but I was blown away by the way Chris Thile's sweet voice — which he twangs up when necessary — floated on top of the band's complicated arrangements of frenetic, bluegrass-inspired music.
“And then Paul Simon came out again! Since I'm not a music critic, I'll just sum it up by saying his performance — dance moves included! — was perfection!”
Here’s a bit of video of “Me & Julio,” the first selection from the lobby performance.
And for comparison, here’s the original video for “Me & Julio,” baby Biz Markie, Big Daddy Kane and John Madden included.