Pop. 1280

The Horror (Sacred Bones)

Lurching Brooklynites Pop. 1280 feed off borrowed nostalgia; No Wave’s serrated sneer certainly isn’t extinct on debut LP The Horror. “Waiting for my dutch/I suggest you start collecting dust,” cackles Ivan Lip with a nasty grin. This is dirty, dusty, disintegrated bay-music at its best. The drums reverberate from the inside out, and the guitars feel like they were fished right out of the scummiest gutter in the Boroughs. These songs respond better to gummy basement atmospheres than critical scrutiny, but Pop. 1280 bash about with such disarmed enthusiasm, it’s hard not to join in. The Horror‘s recklessness doesn’t leave a lot of room for questions. (Sat., 11:30pm, the Parish.)

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This article appears in June 1 • 2012.

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