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Pottery – Welcome To Bobby’s Motel (Partisan)

August 13, 2020 by A.S. Van Dorston

Well, it only took 40 years for a band to be influenced by Talking Heads’ Remain In Light. To be fair, beyond “Hot Heater,” which graduates from a plod to Fela-style polyrhythms, and the spastic funk of “Down In The Dumps,” there’s a whole lot of other stuff going on with Montreal’s Pottery. The cowbell-driven dance punk of “Bobby’s Forecast” brings to mind The Rapture, though less than halfway through, Austin Boylan demands, “gimme the drums,” and the band once again kicks into Afrobeat overdrive. The big single that everyone loves is the first half of “Texas Drums Pt I & II.” I dunno man. Yeah, it jumps on your chest and slobbers in your face with it’s funny stupidity, but too many listens and it could be something I’d grow to hate from an otherwise likeable band like The B-52’s “Rock Lobster.” I don’t mind the riff from the Teardrop Explodes’ “Reward” though. Thankfully, the experimental noise of Pt. II dissolves the plonking simplicity, adding some interesting texture.

The psychedelic surrealness of “Under The Wires” also adds some much-needed variety, and the contemplative “Reflection” adds a splash of color that could have been done by Julian Cope or The Chameleons circa 1986. “NY Inn” adds some spooky atmospheric synth squalls leftover from Bauhaus’ “Bela Lugosi’s Dead,” though it doesn’t quite release the bats into full on goth mode, as the chicken scratch guitars maintain the quirk and funk. “What’s In Fashion?” comes the closest to filler. “Take Your Time” threatens to get formulaic in a Devo via Franz Ferdinand manner, until it’s cool, icy Gary Numan synth bridge. The album wraps up with another unpredictable turn on the ballad “Hot In The Jungle,” with crooning melodicism reminiscent of Orange Juice’s Edwyn Collins.

What seems at first to be a chaotic grab bag makes some logical sense after hearing their slighter, but beguiling and promising No. 1 EP (2019). The band is naturally progressing, flexing their chops developed from pre-plague energetic live shows. If they were to find their own Brian Eno to hunker down with, who knows why kind of witches brew they could come up with. I hope we get to find out soon.

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