A brief series of birdcalls open Pterodactyl's self-titled debut. The misty chirps don't evoke the prehistoric lizard after which the Brooklyn-via-Ohio band named themselves-- more like the tiny creatures that wake you early on weekends. Regardless of who owns the peeps, it's a fitting 11 seconds, because even when Pterodactyl pushes for fury, a melodic sweetness and nerdy fragility hover within the trio's chiming guitars and cymbal crashes: These birds cackle, giggle, brim with sugar-coated spastics.
Folks use "Brooklyn noise-rock" to describe things that aren't so noisy, and maybe not even from Brooklyn. This particular not-so-noisy Brooklyn band is often linked to labelmates Parts & Labor. First the practical reasons for the pairing: two thirds of P&L released Pterodactyl's last 7-inch, along with the vinyl version of this one, on their Cardboard label. You could connect dots musically, but it's more telling to jot differences: drummer Matt Marlin goes easier on his equipment than P&L's Christopher R. Weingarten; Pterodactyl's harmonies aren't as sonically or psychedelically deep; P&L is a longer-running crew, able to draw from a bigger aesthetic/experiential bag of licks.
Pterodactyl can be raw, goofy, or upfront. The album's most compelling tracks, though, sport a high level of sampler-amped sumptuousness; they find a way to loop and rotate without losing steam. "Safe Like A Train" turns Sonic Slinty sharps into merry-go-rounds layered with clipped nasal pop-boy song-birding; on "Polio", muscular, slaphappy drums and slippery guitars lap against high, airy Jane's Addiction vocals; "Three Succeed" pits loping Deerhoofed staccato with duct-taped harmonies that make perfect sense on a label run by Oneida. The rush of "Ask Me Nicely" is a pummeling, snotty punk blast.
Not everything is such a triumph. "Rampage, Pt. 1", which introduces a mid-level pace and Modest Mouse-like sing-a-long, drags, though there's still something slinky about it. Also scattered throughout the program are a few too many micro-sound bits/bytes and instrumental fragments that, unlike the initial tweets, don't add much beyond padding... Not bad, but might as well cut to the chase.
Thankfully, momentum's recovered torrentially on "CHX. BX.", a Lighting Bolt-speed rocker, and the stately, time-ticking closer "Esses", which finds the group experimenting successfully with a slow-arcing six-minute build of barber-shopped, Beach-Boyed pop. Where those tiny incidentals and mid-tempo songs drag, this expansion's an emphatic exclamation.
As groups grow increasingly sophisticated in genre blending, they can reject simplicity en route to aesthetic expansiveness. Spread your wings bravely, cool-- but it doesn't always work. As 2001 as it sounds, sometimes it best suits a group when they forgo the fancy shit and just rock. Interestingly, "Esses" shows Pterodactyl are capable of opening it up incrementally-- something to look forward to in the future. For now, the youngsters' collection, one of my favorite surprises of 2007, more often than not hits best when it plows ahead like an out-of-control pickup truck.
