1120 Naylor Street
Houston, TX, 77002
This event is all ages
Watch & Listen
DIY, psychedelic, primitive, lo-fi, and indie are all words used and abused to describe the current crop of Generation Y’s transgressive music makers, the aught’s response to the singular, wholly influential path laid out by countless ’90s lone wolf, road-doggin’ bands who shaped the current independent music landscape. But how many groups actually fit this model and do it any justice in 2014?
Naomi Punk is one band that speaks to lovers of this formula, tried and true. Their music is unique. They live in Olympia, WA and record music themselves. Their aesthetic is potent, refined and considered, their web presence slight, and their hooks ultimately sugary. It’s no surprise that Television Man, their second LP for Brooklyn label Captured Tracks, finds their sound and style gaining momentum. By powerfully reconstructing their vision as a post-‘90s punk powerhouse, Naomi Punk have garnered a specific type of cult following.
On Television Man, as well as their groundbreaking 2012 debut The Feeling, NP effortlessly spin circles around melodic motifs in repetitive, shifting patterns. Their instruments intertwine then unravel. Drummer Nick Luempert starts and stops and pushes and pulls while guitarist (only two guitars here, no bass) Neil Gregerson crunches atonal shards of strings from all angles. By the time the titular “Television Man” hits — which is essentially a calculated then deconstructed, motorik, a-rhythmic Krautrock mess — it’s evident that their style is also encompassing deep substance, with a long synthesizer passage trailing off and a mind-numbing refrain which singer Travis Benjamin Coster delivers in a woozy, water-damaged yelp. Sometimes all you need is a potent three-piece band to tear the roof off, and Television Man is a record that packs a powerful punch and is truly engulfing. A great sophomore effort from an interesting trio, whose vibe is truly old school.