Polvo
Celebrate the New Dark Age

THE REVIEW

Managing to include a masterpiece in a discography is not something anyone can do; even fewer are those who can include at least (and I do mean at least) four of them. This is what Polvo achieved in the '90s, among the best things to come out of the American indie scene of those years. The guitars of Bowie and Brylawski were the most ingenious and inventive of the period (alongside Duane Denison's, it must be said). This 1994 EP is part of the array of masterpieces produced by them.

Polvo are Polvo and... damn, there's nothing to do about it, they are crooked, wonderfully crooked, a living anomaly, slovenly indie rock disguised as math-core or math-core disguised as slovenly indie rock; in the end, it doesn't matter because they gave it their all with a personality that was at the very least unique, resembling no one else, and that is something not everyone can do either.

This EP perhaps represents the pinnacle in terms of the band's pure songwriting. From its dry sound, mixed in dense noise viscosities, emerge crooked and intricate gems. "Tragic Carpet Ride" is simply overwhelming, anxiety-inducing, neurotic, with a damn melody that stamps itself on your brain. The structures of the tracks are deformed, as in the case of the crazy opener "Fractured (Like Chandeliers)," a continuous succession of organized chaos and noise flourishes punctuated by stunning melodies. Then there are episodes like "City Spirit," "Solitary Set," or the instrumental "Old Lystra," enigmatic, elusive, and twisted upon themselves in disordered and circular plots.

The record is brimming with instinctive expressionism. In "Every Holy Shroud," the executive frenzy and rational sound frameworks collide decisively, generating turmoil and confusion, a continuous clash between reason and instinct. The circle closes with "Virtual Cold," a numb, hypnotic, and melancholic circular motion placed at the end of this celebration of the new dark age.