PYPY‘s debut release, Pagan Day, has the unfortunate timing of coming out after Savages’ Silence Yourself. It’s all too unfortunate that it’s going to be compared to that bit of disco-tinged post-punk.
This is, however, a less focused release than that, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Pagan Day meanders and engages in psychedelic freakout workouts, making the moments when PYPY focuses that much more intense. There’s a lot of build-and-release on this album, and it makes for an involving listen.
“New York” will just work a dance bassline for a good half minute before turning the burbling, underwater guitar into pointed riffs, simply exploding from your speakers. You’ll be nodding along, then suddenly rocking out, thrashing about the room, like you’ve been possessed by a fucking demon.
Then, of course, the song following it, “Molly,” is a pretty standard psych-rock number. Guitar solos all over the place, flanged vocals, and an end that doesn’t so much build as collapse upon itself. It’s the sheer unpredictability of PYPY that makes Pagan Day such a fantastic, intriguing listen.
Continue reading →
The latest from New Coke isn’t as deliriously weird as their first single. Can anything be as uncomfortably wonderful as “He Got Stabbed In the Throat”? I humbly submit the answer be, “No – no fucking way.”
