PS would seem to stand for Patrick Savage, songwriter and founding member of
this New York based group. However, the band hails themselves as being
comprised of 6 disparate musical and emotional personalities that have come
together to form an artistic bond that transcends any differences to create a
unique sound and aesthetic.
Though PS is brimming with ideas and is, alternately, lo-fi garage,
progressive, punk, and nordically sparse, this ep ultimately reveals a group
that has yet to tune into their collective wavelength. As you might expect
from 6 clever young folk (classically trained cellists alongside melodica
players and film majors) the age-old artistic dilemma of what to concentrate
on presents a greater problem than that of generating raw material.
PS is a rudderless ship, and though all songs are credited to Mr Savage,
there is a distinct commitee vibe that extends form the arrangements to the
mixing, even to the graphic design. The cover shot (a minimalist take on
what Edward Gorey might have done if he went emo) portrays the group as
faceless equals, colorless and dispalyed in equal size and proximity.
The standout track is 'So Stupid Beauty', a simply lovely song of Midnight
Cowboy-strength loneliness and shades of Bright Eyes, and none of the
art-garage foundations of the others.
This band could be suffering from too generous a democratic foundation, or
else they need the galvanizing effect of working with a producer of confident
vision and kindly dictatorial nature who can point the band into a relatively
clear direction, because they definitely have somethng to say, they just
haven't decided how to quite yet.
Some bands like T-Rex are the sonic result of an oligarchy, others like the
Ramones or The Band are the exact opposite, but all somehow had their own
collective signature. PS has yet to navigate through the waters of
indicision to find theirs.
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