Ponytail Gets Dues
http://www.citypaper.com/music/review.asp?rid=11185I saw her in the supermarket on a Saturday afternoon. She was wearing some sort of old t-shirt, yellow cordoroys and she had her one foot against the wall.
"Molly? From Ponytail?"
And since I mumble she thought I was asking if she worked there,
"Oh I don't work here." -
"No no no, You are in Ponytail. I saw you guys?" She was almost suspicious of why I was saying that. I didn't look like the usualy kind of person that was at Ponytail shows.
"Really? Where?" She said it kinda harsh but also smart. She said it like a lawyer would say it in hopes that you would prove them either right of wrong.
"I saw you open for Benjy Ferree. We actually talked at the merch table about your band and stuff..."
"Ah the hat guy. You had that brown hat. You and him left before the show was over. You missed the closing act."
"Yeah well...I'm pretty sure he was pissed that he wasn't the closing act. He's on Domino for christ sake."
"Primadona"
It's nice that something innocent, fun, and pretty good is around.
Known for their floor-shaking, sugar-fueled live sets, local quartet Ponytail is shockingly melodic on its debut album, Kamehameha, recently released on local art-rock baron Peter Quinn's fledgling Creative Capitalism label. Though usually described as post-art school punk, or pop-punk, or whatever people are calling the undeniably infectious rock that's started multiplying in the depths of the Copy Cat Building, Ponytail nimbly defies classification.
Similar to fellow Wham City regulars Ecstatic Sunshine, Ponytail trades heavily on the sheer level of noise and number of riffs that can be created with two lead guitarists. That's unsurprising, really, since both outfits include ace ax-man Dustin Wong. Kamehameha finds Ponytail mashing out melodies that alternately evoke spaghetti-western Indian war chants, ska, surf rock, carousel calliopes, and "Momma's Little Baby Loves Shortenin' Bread." On "Dear God Plz Make My 2Eyes N2 One," drummer Jeremy Hyman deftly lifts a drum lick from the Beatles' Abbey Road before guitarists Ken Seeno and Wong launch into a lovely duel of coruscating arpeggios--cribbed directly from Tchaikovsky's Peter and the Wolf--that eventually collapse in a crash of noise.
But the element that sets Ponytail apart from its contemporaries is vocalist Molly Siegel. Alternately channeling a tortured dolphin and a riot grrl who's swallowed a staple gun, Siegel yowls, squeaks, and growls emphatically, yet unintelligibly, over the band's rambunctious grooves. Her vocal antics, more sonic garnish than main event, add a vaguely sexual element of human frustration to Ponytail's twisted carnival groove, her frenzied squeals reminiscent of Peter Pan's defiant, "I gotta crow!" She and Ponytail speak a language that the right audience will understand all too well.
Ponytail isn't going to be "everyone's bag" but at least they are something new and something smart. It's worth checking out for yourself if you ever get the chance.
