Flashioning Backward through UI’s archives is like paging through your old middle school yearbook. What the f*ck were we/they/the vast universe thinking? Today, we’ve stumbled upon fragments of Poingly’s past. Will we laugh and point?
Doubtful. The one-man electroclasher Poingly band from BK, NY generally supplies the laughter and pointing himself (whether he’s the subject of it or not) whenever the need arises, ingeniously annihilating anyone else’s L&P power.
Poingly’s trickiness doesn’t stop there: The avant garde outré mask-wearing wacko has been thrilling and frightening the trembling Billyburg indie set since 2002 when he busted onto the scene with projects alongside The Hissyfits and solo work that earned him a spot at CMJ’s Music Marathon way back in 2004.
Lauded for his self-described laptop rock, the Poingster enjoys wailing and writhing along to pre-recorded tracks–much to the simultaneous joy, consternation and amusement of listeners and gawkers–which always “involve a lot of sweat, silly costumes, a fair amount of audience participation, semi-nudity and a lot of shrieking.”
Perhaps it’s Poingly’s existential, Ginsbergian Howl against the banality, self-imposed hypocrisy and cluelessness inherent in too much of the Billyburg hipster lifestyle.
Below, check out his strikingly cogent take on the anti-gentrification sentiment in New York City–by the gentrifiers themselves. Once you get past the wigs, the pasty boob shots and the interesting leg gear, you’ll find a Zen Buddhist waiting to gently slap the smugness off your mug. (Full disclosure: Poingly is a former UI blogger, too. True renaissance man, no? Hey Poingly, call us sometime!)
I’m always up for grabbing a drink. Always ready to propose the idea but never cement it!