Po Po 

Dope Boy Magick

Po Po makes it six tracks into Dope Boy Magick before delivering an echoing guitar solo constructed around triplet arpeggios. When they finally do it, it's a nod to the elephant in the room. For all the talk about post-hop and garage and whatever the shrinking genre of rock has divided itself into, and despite the universal insistence on referring to Po Po as the Pakistani duo from Philadelphia, what Dope Boy Magick sounds like most is Jane's Addiction.

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First of all, I mean that as praise. Second, it's the vocals that do it: high and breathy and reverbed out, improving on Perry Farrell by being totally unintelligible. The tracks on Dope Boy Magick are meatier and less organized than anything by Jane's Addiction, with rawer drums and guitar and less progression. The album is a sound first and songs second, and that sound is immediately compelling; studio psychedelia ironizes the exuberant rhythm section and there are just enough snatches of Aeolian mode to sound eastern without invoking that horrible descriptor "exotic." If it were arranged into verses and choruses, it would be pop. As it is, Dope Boy Magick sounds like notes for something fantastic.

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