The Fat Angel Sings

Pressed to say, I might decide that PWR BTTM makes power-pop as opposed to pop-punk? The Brooklyn duo’s brisk debut radiates too much joy to be defined by its angst. It would have been foolish to expect a band riding into battle with the spoken name “power bottom” to waste time being coy, but there is something necessary in the matter-of-fact way Ugly Cherries claims old rock tropes to depict queer romance. A big, exultant guitar solo has long been recognizable shorthand for the first rush of infatuation taking hold, but the number of rock or punk albums that make queer lives explicit is still comparatively slim. PWR BTTM sing from the shower, apply makeup in the parking lot, throw lingering bard.edu email addresses out to cute boys, and generally have a blast being in flux, trying to hit just the right mix of smart and dumb that allows adventure but prevents disaster. Catchy hooks and glitter-bomb riffs abound here and are, to a large degree, the point. Those tools will increasingly be used to tell stories from distinct viewpoints, that still end up revealing the feelings shared by everyone with a frail, open heart. PWR BTTM point toward a stronger, purer way we might associate these sounds with confidence, freedom, and youth.

Ben Hopkins and Liv Bruce make up the core of PWR BTTM. Together, they crafted last year’s Ugly Cherries, a record that sees them both singing lead and switching instruments. But when the duo stopped by The A.V. Club office to cover Counting Crows’ 1993 hit “Mr. Jones” they brought some friends along with them. Joined by Petal vocalist Kiley Lotz and Dowsing bassist Michael Politowicz, the band glittered up and gave “Mr. Jones” the PWR BTTM treatment.

While they record their sophomore album, Brooklyn queer punk duo PWR BTTM have reclaimed Counting Crows’ “Mr. Jones” from frat house day parties everywhere, by doing an excellent cover of the song.

The haphazard and fresh garage-punk duo have often behind defined by their sexuality, as is perhaps understandable given this album contains songs entitled ‘I Wanna Boi’ and ‘All The Boys’, and although comparisons to the likes of Pansy Division are bound to follow, ‘Ugly Cherries’ delivers through the indelble catchiness of its songs. In hock as much to Jonathan Richman’s off-kilter and refreshingly candid ditties as Milky Wimpshake’s DIY lo-fi ramalama or even The White Stripes’ in-the-basement rawness, ‘Ugly Cherries’ is a triumph of both chutzpah and spark.