Recap The Prids, March 30 at the Larimer Lounge

Watching The Prids is like listening to an old friend who’s talking too fast: He may be saying something interesting, but he's moved on to the next topic before you can process it. The Portland-based quartet blasted through a set of fast, angst-ridden rock Monday night at the Larimer Lounge, hardly stopping to catch their breath between songs—leaving the audience a bit winded, as well. Nearly every retro-'80s anthem in the band's set had the same general structure, bouncing back and forth between two chords with rapid-fire cymbals and spacey, new wave-inspired synth lines floating above David Frederickson’s and Mistina Keith’s manic, boy-girl vocals. Musically, The Prids fit in neatly with post-punk revivalists like Interpol and Editors, and the group crafts a pretty solid tribute to moping heavy-hitters like The Smiths and Joy Division. Frederickson even had the urgent-but-detached delivery of Joy Division's Ian Curtis down pat. Instrumentally, the songs were tight, controlled bursts of energy designed to make everyone in the audience move, or at least take note. But for all the group's enthusiasm, the whole thing just got exhausting. The icy rhythms were often too slippery to dance to, and there was nothing slow in the middle to let the audience come down and recharge. And the lyrics provided no anchor amidst the frenzied storm of synthesizers, nothing for the imagination to grab onto. Despite all the obvious talent onstage Monday, it was difficult to shake the feeling that this had all been done before, and that The Prids really had nothing new to do or say. Granted, rock 'n' roll doesn't have to be new or say anything—but it does need, at least, to live up to its own promise in concert.