
- Pons, Dread
(Self-released, digital)
Dread is one of the most visceral emotions, a Molotov cocktail of anxiety and fear often garnished with depression and self-loathing. And the hangover can last a lifetime. But those who manage to claw their way out from under the suffocating mass of dark feelings are often stronger for it.
Burlington post-punk duo Pons center these concepts on their dizzying EP Dread. After a year or so of living in Vermont, Sam Cameron and Jack Parker, both fresh-out-of-high-school North Carolina natives, have begun to disentangle themselves from the psychic energy of a world of "vastly different ideals and priorities," according to an email. High on the pair's to-do list? Smoke weed and make music. (You'll find good company in the Queen City, Pons.)
Through six electric tracks, Pons pair confrontational punk architecture with glam-rock flair, launching dance-rock assaults on all the bad feels. Their songs lurch back and forth between measured tempos and careening freight-train beats. And practically everything in the world of Dread is fuzzy: fuzzy synths, fuzzy guitars, fuzzy vocals, fuzzy snares.
"Bug" crashes in with walloped, syncopated guitars over brittle tambourine and cryptic, frazzled shouts ("Drop down! / Break neck! / Fly out! Take it!"). By the song's midpoint, the tempo shifts from an even-paced dance-floor dazzler to a breakneck maelstrom of synthed-out turbulence.
Switching gears to sharp, jangly rock, "The Shakes" instantly recalls the detached glaze of New York City rockers the Strokes. (And with a title like "The Shakes," that can't be a coincidence.) Disheartened and disillusioned, Cameron sings, "Wasting all of my time / Don't know who I am / Driving nowhere in mind / I'll take another gram."
Name-dropping one of auteur David Cronenberg's most controversial protagonists, "Max Renn" is full of Videodrome's bleak nihilism yet candy-coats it with bright synth power chords. Never quite finding a secure pace, the song rollicks to and fro, culminating in a wailing call-and-response post-chorus.
"Information" revives early 2000s electro-trash through withering guitar pops, fizz-forward electronic snares and a probing synth bass line. Sharply barked rhetorical questions like "What you got to lose?" ping-pong around this tense-AF cut.
Flirting with country-lite, vaguely Southern-rock vibes, "Family Man" is a wriggling, distorted banger. The song implodes into chaos just past the halfway mark.
Closer "Bronze" froths with pent-up aggression and disgust: "I'm always down / Even when I'm crawling out / And I can't seem to make the cut." After meandering for more than three minutes, the track concludes with a frenzied, cynical swell: "Can't fit in unless you're brain-dead ... Give the crowd what they want."
Cameron and Parker are indeed young and have a lot of living to do. But their ability to artfully capture alienation, anger, apathy and adversity — as well as establish a defined set of parameters for what their band is and how it sounds — puts them well ahead of where they might otherwise be.
Dread is available at ponsbandofficial.bandcamp.com.
Comments
Comments are closed.
Since 2014, Seven Days has allowed readers to comment on all stories posted on our website. While we’ve appreciated the suggestions and insights, the time has come to shut them down — at least temporarily.
While we champion free speech, facts are a matter of life and death during the coronavirus pandemic, and right now Seven Days is prioritizing the production of responsible journalism over moderating online debates between readers.
To criticize, correct or praise our reporting, please send us a letter to the editor. Or send us a tip. We’ll check it out and report the results.
Online comments may return when we have better tech tools for managing them. Thanks for reading.