My nephew calls me "Fifty," not because he thinks I'm a swollen bullet receptacle, but because that's how old he thinks I am. I'm not 50, despite some piss-poor toddler judgment, and my nephew got a pile of bricks for Christmas last year, courtesy Unka P. I'm also not 16. I am old enough to remember Liz Phair's Stones rebuttal and Juliana Hatfield's sugary confessions. As a young lad, they were among the quiet riot girls who shaped my post-pubescent view of female empowerment. At the time, I wondered why the girls I knew couldn't be more like these wise, wisecracking, and casually confident women. The answer was, and is, that 99% percent of teenagers, male or female, won't acquire these traits for a good decade. Not that Pony Up! are a bunch of teens, but their music exudes a bratty naiveté-- a mix of soda-pop psychology and the Shaggs after a few rigorous lessons-- that makes it difficult to stomach for more than a couple of listens.
Much of their self-titled debut comes across as a weekend project between a group of friends, and the band's bio does little to refute that. The members are two sisters, the sisters' brother's ex-girlfriend, one of the sister's ex-bandmates, and the sisters' brother's ex-girlfriend's former co-worker. Degrassi, anyone? They all got together, made a demo for shits and giggles, and ended up giving it to Ben Lee at one of his shows. Lee, another champion of teenage angsty jangle pop, heard kindred spirits and signed the band to his imprint. However, Lee isn't doing anyone a favor, least of all Pony Up!, by releasing what amounts to a half-assed demo.
Pony Up! have done their homework on early-90's indie pop like Phair and Hatfield, but their sound is eerily similar to cult-faves Cub and Tiger Trap, whose loose-limbed lo-fi told similar coming-of-age stories. Cub and Tiger Trap also didn't last very long. The major difference between those artists and Pony Up! is that the latter's simplistic odes lack the knowing smirk of their predecessors. Pony Up!'s lyrics are sonic defense mechanisms, deploying humor to avoid confronting any real emotion. I'm all for jokes; they're funny. But, the girls sprint over the tipping point with the first song they ever recorded, "Matthew Modine", a dirty note passed to an 80s semi-icon. Okay, mini-icon. I love Vision Quest. There, I said it.
Elsewhere, PU! make up some ground with catchy, gloomy pop but even then, it's not the hooks that stick with you-- it's the self-defeating lyrics. "Minstrel" and "Shut Up and Kiss Me" have their moments, but when a line like "my brother and sister are going to beat you up" follows an honest sentiment like "you are all my fault," someone needs to tell these girls to cut the crap. I nominate Ben Lee. He started it.
