99 Pounds
Fade
Complaints have been heard in the past regarding Austin’s sullen lack of any sort of proper electronica groups that aren’t simply a DJ and his/her Technics. For a city as musically diverse as this, you’d expect a few more actual bands incorporating fluid programming alongside guitars, instead of one or the other. Thankfully, 99 Pounds fill the bill with a sound that’s part Massive Attack and part One Dove, though with a distinctly gloomy atmosphere. Fronted by the ethereal Lisa Loomis, 99 Pounds mix smoky chanteuse pop with grim, plodding anti-pop that sounds as if it could just as easily have circumnavigated the Big Blue via a 4AD frigate out of Bristol. That said, there’s nothing amongst Fade‘s six tracks that really reaches out and grabs you by the scruff of the neck; plodding is the key word here, and some of these songs, minus the vox, wouldn’t feel too out of place on a latter-day Nurse With Wound EP. Only the chilly throb of “She” comes close to creating any sort of aural gridlock; with ominous bass pronouncements and anxious vocals, it sounds like the theme music from a Bond film from hell, (in)complete with backlit nudes descending a corpse. Grimpop? Gothtronica? Subgenres are all the rage, so pick one and allow 99 Pounds to fuel that sad, bad heart of yours.
This article appears in April 14 • 2000.