The darkly clad duo from Brooklyn seem somewhat out of place stood before the gold glitter backdrop that hangs like something from a seventies bingo hall. They set up and start in the corner of the room whilst most people are still sat talking to one another. Soon Andrya Ambro’s howl begins to spread through the venue reaching every dusty corner and sounding like an unhinged or even demented Karen O. In reverse, the guitars provide something of a cover backbone for the drums, as the beat eclipses them both stylistically and rhythmically. The drum playing is relentlessly captivating – for such fragmented and disjointed cadence’s they are played with a smoothness that resembles the rolling pistons of a steam train – and while a perplexing juxtaposition, it’s also a gratifying one. The guitar playing eventually falls somewhat by the wayside as a result of such innovation, and when that accounts for fifty percent of the output, it does at times suffer as a collective output. However, when this duo are both at their best, creating a synergy, it becomes an engaging and at time ferocious cacophony.
By Daniel Dylan Wray
Originally published in issue 17 (vol 3) of Loud And Quiet. May 2010