Some musicians draw upon so many genres that it's tough to rank them in importance, while others focus on a single approach with a fealty that borders on obsession. Primasonic falls into the latter category; its members always seem to be asking themselves, "What would Iggy and Joey do?" Yet their self-titled disc is fairly enjoyable anyhow, thanks to the considerable energy and fanatical exactitude they bring to their acts of homage.
The players, who operate on a first-name basis, certainly have the totems of their chosen sound down pat. The guitars, as strummed by Kurt and Bryon, are appropriately fuzzy, bassist Clyde and drummer Zac prove adept at plowing through sludge of their own creation, and vocalist Sin has mastered a proto-punky whine. Granted, material like "Dance" and an unnecessary cover of "Paint It Black" fall short of stirring. But "Repossession," "Ode to..." and others prove that recycling isn't just for aluminum cans.
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