More, indeed, than any other American band of their era, Pylon (the amazing-est Athens, GA act you never heard of) sounded like semaphore, like ordinary communications forced into a code and forced upon you without a codebook. Now-deceased guitarist Randy Bewley claimed he never learned the names of any chords or notes, and although his ringing and chiming lines up reasonably well with the Gang of Four's Andy Gill's work around that same time, it manifests enough mystery to stand alone. Singer Vanessa Briscoe Hay counts, spells, and satisfies herself with "beep beep." Unless, of course, that's another kind of coded communication.
Remixes and de-mixes don't slow this unique foursome down a bit, allowing them wide-range sonic space and signal decay that make the album versions sound like teasers. Come on ride this space train, hold out hope for the rest of Pylon's catalog, and mourn the loss of an unsung six-string supernaut.
More, indeed, than any other American band of their era, Pylon (the amazing-est Athens, GA act you never heard of) sounded like semaphore, like ordinary communications forced into a code and forced upon you without a codebook. Now-deceased guitarist Randy Bewley claimed he never learned the names of any chords or notes, and although his ringing and chiming lines up reasonably well with the Gang of Four's Andy Gill's work around that same time, it manifests enough mystery to stand alone. Singer Vanessa Briscoe Hay counts, spells, and satisfies herself with "beep beep." Unless, of course, that's another kind of coded communication.
Remixes and de-mixes don't slow this unique foursome down a bit, allowing them wide-range sonic space and signal decay that make the album versions sound like teasers. Come on ride this space train, hold out hope for the rest of Pylon's catalog, and mourn the loss of an unsung six-string supernaut.