Send "Polvo " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 The alt-rock reunions we've seen over the past decade have generally fallen into one of three categories: the notoriously combative legends who've let time-- or lucrative post-reunion guarantees-- heal all wounds (the Pixies, Dinosaur Jr.); the post-punk pioneers collecting on the debt owed to them by a new generation of spiritual offspring (Wire, Gang of Four, Mission of Burma); or the fleetingly successful 1990s-era acts who don't have anything better to do (Urge Overkill). But the sudden, surprising return of Polvo (or, at least three quarters of its original line-up) after a 12-year absence does not adhere to any of these scripts. As a band that bridged late-80s SST-schooled indie-rock and more abstract, angular 90s math-rock, Polvo's legacy feels very much frozen in time-- they're not a band whose influence is especially apparent among contemporary indie-rock acts; their popularity never extended beyond the campus-radio crowd; and there's no juicy back-story to propagate their myth. They were simply a very good band that made some very good records, and then just plain stopped.But Polvo's first album in 12 years presents a different kind of reunion rationale-- one that's less about extending a legacy as rewriting it. Like Hüsker Dü, the Minutemen, and Sonic Youth before them, Polvo reached their critical peak with an epic double-album statement, 1996's Exploded Drawing, which saw them successfully unraveling their bee-swarm guitar buzz to explore the polarities of their sound, from psychedelic-folk lullabies to brutalizing post-hardcore. But instead of answering their Daydream Nation with their Goo (i.e., a more streamlined, approachable set), Polvo took a hard left on 1997's Shapes, a hodgepodge of contorted classic-rock riffage and fractured-folk interludes that, in hindsight, anticipated the current vogue for Arthur-endorsed new-school psychedelia, but at the time felt like a directionless drift into the unknown, one from which Polvo never returned. Until now....full text |
| Musicemissions |
| Can one band manage to sound like both Led Zeppelin and Sonic Youth, and yet still somehow get tagged as some mathrock prog outfit? Yes, apparently. Polvo's fantastic new record In Prism is a unique and original sounding disc that shatters labels and transcends genres to land in the lofty pile of great rock records. Not unlike Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks recent Real Emotional Trash album, In Prism also pulls off the rare trick of being immediately likeable as well as a grower that gets better with more listens. And also like that album, it's hard to describe as it meanders through rockers, quiet somewhat-psychedelic interludes, stomping beats, and catchy crunching riffs (often all within one song). It really doesn't sound like Zeppelin OR Sonic Youth, regardless of what my first line of this review said. And there are a few other loose and partially inaccurate comparisons that could be made, but I just can't put my finger on them. The bottom line is that this is just a really great record, easily among the best of 2009. If you like rock music, if you like interesting music, I can't see how you wouldn't love this album. And despite all the critics calling it alt-prog mathrock, it's actually pretty catchy and easy to listen to....full text |
| Spin |
| In the ’90s, before cardigan kids got into metal, and indie rock was actually capable of heaviness, the go-to act for complicated riff science was Polvo, four dorks from North Carolina whose guitar weave could hold up a bridge. This reunion packs no shortage of vintage wank -- knotty, largely instrumental songs that surge together and drift apart with a proggy, loose-limbed precision, from the oddly martial “Beggar’s Bowl” and massive “Link in the Chain” to the lighter “D.C. Trials” and fiercely melodic “Dream Residue/ Work.”...full text |
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