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The withering, unhealthy family tree of the bonehead, knuckle-dragged sound of Mayyors, A Frames, and Lake of Dracula grows another branch with New York City’s Brandy. Consisting of components of miscreant avant-trash guitar acts Running and Pampers, this new project somehow straddles the line between futuristic and primitive. Rhythmic and repetitive with flashes of late-70s San Francisco post-punk psychedelia, dragging barely recognizable pop hooks through the debris of Mark E. Smith’s scotch glass shatter, the songs march from front to end with a militant step and slurred, anthemic approach. Brandy makes me think it might actually be feasible to continue living and still, somehow, exist in New York.