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Glass Candy

When Ida No was deciding what to call her glam-inflected, no-wave-­channeling, ­minimalist-disco, shrapnel-­shrieking dance floor mindfuck of a band, she must have had an Archimedean moment of epiphany. No and friends took the elements of Ziggy Stardust-era David Bowie, the anti-­everything cacophony of James Chance and Lydia Lunch and Siouxsie Sioux's scary/sexy, painful/beautiful vocals and perfectly distilled them into Glass Candy. The Portland group's minimalist arrangements offer moments of beauty, but only from certain angles. Sometimes you see right through them; other times, they're highly reflective and show only a pale image of what's right in front of them. Always brittle, they threaten to shatter into a billion shards if No hits just the right note. Sweet and colorful, the music contains many layers emanating out from the center, offering different, often shocking sensory experiences. Glass Candy is a crystalline confection, and you'll most assuredly want more, even if your gums bleed as you chew.


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