Planta Bring Their Powerful, Epic, Psychedelic Art-Rock to the West Village This Saturday Night

by delarue

When as formidable a musician as Desert Flower lead guitarist Migue Mendez says that someone else’s band is better than his own, you have to wonder how amazing that band has to be. On one hand, Mendez was being modest, considering what a volcanic (if sadly abbreviated) set Desert Flower put on a couple of Saturday ago in the wee hours of a Sunday morning at Sidewalk. On the other, the band they followed, Planta, brought a stadium-worthy majesty and titanic sweep rarely seen in such a small venue. Watching the five-piece Queens art-rockers shift through all sorts of permutations, and grooves, and tunes with an epic intensity was like getting to see Pink Floyd in a small club. The show was that good. They’re playing the Bitter End, of all places, at 9:30 PM on December 5, which ought to be even better since that place has a better PA than Sidewalk’s. As a bonus, Bombrasstico, who mash up brass band funk with dancehall reggae and Afrobeat, follow later on the bill around 11:30.

Planta’s debut album, Unwind, is streaming at their music page. A sirening ebow guitar drone underpins the pulsing, minimalist, syncopated title track. Like much of the material here, it echoes the moody post-new wave anthems of legendary Mexican rockers Caifanes. That’s All I Want sways along with a distant, cumulo-nimbus soundtrack-rock ominousness, then picks up with jangle and slide guitar over bassist Jean-Paul Le Du’s catchy groove; like Radiohead but with more balls. Lazy hints that it’s going in either a happy-go-lucky Vampire Weekend direction, or into folk-rock, but instead goes back toward broodingly catchy Caifanes territory, lead guitarist Marcelo Dominguez first echoing Jerry Garcia in “on” mode, then going into dark, lingering Saul Hernandez territory.

Exiliado has a lush, wounded art-rock sweep, like a blend of Radiohead and Nektar at their most deep-space intense. The twin guitars of Dominguez and frontman Ricardo Ponce mingle and blend with a resonant Pink Floyd grandeur throughout the bitterly pensive Don’t Know You. The final cut is Todo Es un Sueno, slowly taking shape over Le Du’s elegant slides and pulses. As majestic as these songs are on record, they’re even more immense live. This band deserves a stage as big as their sound; right now, you’re lucky enough to be able to catch them when they’re still playing small venues.

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