Ponce De Leon Fails to Discover Lyrics
Ponce De Leon brings to the table an energetic self-titled debut with chart possibilities tattooed all over it. Head-nodding beats, catchy hooks and effects straight from a video game console roll one after another, from top to bottom. The mix of digital and actual instrumentation gives this debut a charming amount of promise. All is well until one pays attention to the lyrics.While being delivered with an Isaac Brock (of Modest Mouse) sort of cynicism, the lyrical content is benign at best with curse words and/or phallic references inserted just to grab attention.
“Anacondas got a cummerbund/And he appreciates that I donâ€šÃ„Ã´t have my gunâ€šÃ„Ã¹ is only one of many absurd lines that are scattered throughout the album. A glimmer of hope comes in the form of â€šÃ„ÃºFlavor Wagonâ€šÃ„Ã¹ where the lyrics are focused in a narrative fashion about the indulgences of society and the mistakes of history such as â€šÃ„ÃºWe had a recognition of a natural order/There were tribal rivalries but only natural borders.â€šÃ„Ã¹ Still, they retain the frat boy intellect that anchors the album to the realm of sub-par with lines like â€šÃ„ÃºCross-fade to the present day/Headed to the slots â€šÃ„Ã²cause I just got paid.â€šÃ„Ã¹
Despite the lyrical misadventures that clutter the album, thereâ€šÃ„Ã´s not a dull moment, musically. The music is up-tempo, fun, and there are samples from b-movies sprinkled about creating the kind of environment that Big Audio Dynamite was always aiming for. Ponce De Leon truly delivers a set of grooves that can exist alongside the styling of Mindless Self Indulgence in any danceable atmosphere. However, for those who cannot suspend their disbelief, thereâ€šÃ„Ã´s not much else worthwhile here.