Nostalgia is a drunkenly slurred monologue delivered by the friend-of-a-friend that is stumbling around your living room and making liberal use of your beer can as an ashtray. It will ruin what was a refreshingly current situation, and no one wants to hear about it except the person doing the talking. And such is the problem with tackling indie-rock’s crowded house party of the last two years—Nostalgia slid in the side door and has issues with pacing the Coors Light.
It is no surprise then, that amidst the din of conversation and overly-affected clamor for reunion tours, album-formatted performances, and carefully-curated outdoor weekend festivals, that a band from Chapel Hill, NC is able to quietly—and without pretense—sit in the corner of this denim-clad gathering and be the most relevant members in the room. Why can I say that? Because there’s a strong argument to be made that Polvo was always that band in the 90’s, and if the guy drinking all the hosts’ Coors would shut up for a minute, he might learn something.
“I killed my creation to right the relation,” is the lyric that forces itself to the forefront as In Prism begins, and this is as true of the aforementioned situation in Living Room X as it is of the improved production value that is pummeling you. Polvo’s guitar dexterity and off-kilter sense of structuring has not waned, and In Prism’s opener, “Right The Relation,” leaves little to the imagination on the question of tight, group continuity and technical ability in the ten years since they broke up. And it is the spidery, vein-like, guitar riff threading and strong-armed rhythm section that simultaneously made Polvo a name with 1993’s Today’s Active Lifestyles or 1996’s Exploded Drawing, and placed them firmly in the “underground,” which the grunge behemoths of the time so thoughtfully claimed to champion.
What is perhaps most impressive with In Prism is its ability to reward repeated listens. “Beggar’s Bowl” is easily the heaviest, accessible, and most direct track on the album, but it is the looseness of “D.C. Trails,” and “City Birds” that bookend and contextualize it, while “Dream Residue/Work” bridges the claustrophobic and exploratory with a precision and enthusiasm that is akin to Fugazi’s “The Argument.” Latter half songs “Lucia,” “The Pedlar,” and particularly “A Link In The Chain,” indulge the classic rock undertones that Polvo has leaned on in the past, but with a fresher perspective allowing the clean to sound cleaner, and dissonant more purposeful—purpose being something too many bands have seemingly forgotten as they take you on an 8-minute meandering rock quest.
At first listen In Prism can be easily taken as an album that starts stronger than it finishes, but in an era where Nostalgia is standing around telling anyone in earshot about the golden days of independent music; Polvo is not only acknowledging it: they’re moving on. So what then, does Polvo have to say for themselves? I’m not sure that they, or me, or anyone who has now moved to kitchen to escape the Nostalgia Factor in the next room, can really hazard an answer.
Simply put, In Prism is a great rock record that has nothing to do with the college radio station, the snobbish guy from the records store, the firmness of the “indie-credibility-handshake” that was exchanged between two dudes at a basement show in 1996, or the robustness of Nostalgia’s 7-inch collection. Now, if you’ll excuse Polvo, they’re going to have a quiet cigarette on the porch and then head home—they have things to do in the morning.