#pfloog

Artist: Pfloog

Album: Flop City

Released August 12 on Augment Recordings

Following their January single “Meth Rock,” Toronto based math-rock band, Pfloog, have constructed Flop City, a debut EP of swirling “diddles” and precise intentions.

In the words of Pfloog drummer Christopher Drossis, the instrumental EP is “just what we came up with while jamming in my basement, just some mathy fun music.” Despite this nonchalance, Flop City is a polished collection of songs with a sense of continuity that can only be derived from experience. Pfloog’s blatant display of musical skill is contrasted by their wackiness (allusions to Hannibal Burres’ “Morpheus Dorpheus” rap and a general disregard for seriousness). This places Pfloog in a similar aesthetical vein as Hella or perhaps Don Caballero.

Flop City begins with Fiji, a relatively mellow track which edges us into the album. It’s a wistful, misty, deep voiced ballad and a fitting introduction, opening the EP with a steady intake of breath.

If musical skill incarnated itself in the shape of muscles, Pfloog would be taking us straight to the gunshow on the following title track, a testament to the mechanical prowess of guitar players John Ducharme Savoy and Romtin Paydar. While displaying their ability to “shred,” this track is able to contain itself, with moments of reserved calm and well-paced energy which continues into the third track “Tikflol.”

Tikflol carries on the mellow vibe of Fiji and softer sides of Flop City, but with heavier bass and more cyclic, labyrinthine, guitar riffs. If Fiji is a breath, Tikflol is a breather, as well as a hint of what’s to come in the next track, Chako.

Chako seems to be the focal point of the EP. It grinds to life and drives onwards like some frenetically galloping beast, heavy, plodding endlessly through brightly lit chthonic plains. The guitars are relentless and precise, panned to fill the soundscape perfectly.

The final track, “Morpheus Burres,” continues what was built in Chako, ending the EP with a calculated speed up. The EP in this way seems to have an intentional shape to it; it’s about moving forward, then falling back, exertion rewarded with catharsis.

It’s hard to nitpick or find any flaws in Flop City. Pfloog seems to be accomplishing exactly what they set out to do. Some chords initially sound overly earnest, preachy, or “Naruto theme-song-esque,” but it quickly becomes clear that unlike the norm, Pfloog know how to utilize this sound to their advantage, twisting it into something entirely unique. Should the content of the EP have carried on into an album, the focused sound Pfloog accomplishes could become a concern, wearing its welcome in whatever small way, however, in a five track EP the length is ideal.

There’s a feeling of warm reverie in Flop City’s slower moments. An atmosphere of nostalgia interspersed with moments of confident aggression forms an emotional portrait of times to come and times gone by. At its heart, Flop City is a hopeful foray into the future and a promising beginning for Pfloog.