Power-Buddies were broken down rock and roll at its finest, stripped to its core essentials.

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Bands break up, it’s what they do. More often than not, they come together in a frantic burst of creation. Pouring out subsonic bliss and wonder, before exploding – fragmenting – into some sort of supernova destruction. Leaving bystanders in awe.

I guess it’s to be expected, but Power-Buddies broke up. To you that probably doesn’t mean anything, to me it means everything. Sidenote: Herein lays the problem with the Canadian music scene: there’s life-changing talent across this giant rock of ours, but most of it goes unnoticed by most of us.

Power-Buddies were broken down rock and roll at its finest, stripped to its core essentials. Raw energy dished out at breakneck speeds. They played each show with the intensity of a prizefighter staring down death. They weren’t just a band, they were THE BAND. Producing a musical life-changing vibe. The type of art that slows down time, slaps you in the mouth, pulling you into the moment and reminding you that you’re alive. To me and to those who experienced Power-Buddies’s music, they were the only band that mattered.

Which brings us to here, to their break up and a small quiet release of their final record, PB. Eight tracks they released, seemingly in the dead of night, without much of a mention; the exact opposite of what this album deserved. If there were fairness in this world, PB would have been pressed to a limited run of lime green vinyl. A physical testament to be snapped up in a heartbeat and resold on eBay for hundreds of dollars in the years to come.

Just listen to it.

If it resonates with you, drop me a line so we can mourn Power-Buddies’s breakup together.

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