Pitchfork

Marco Benevento plays keyboards. Joe Russo plays drums. The two shared an eighth-grade teacher a decade before sharing a weekly residency at the Knitting Factory in New York. Things clicked for them during that 2002 stint, and they named the accidental project Benevento/Russo Duo. They quickly became favorites on the jam band circuit and recorded two albums. The second, Play Pause Stop, sounds like an instrumental Arcade Fire-- more organ, less guitar, similar arena-sized airs and aims. They hired an indie rock publicist and then joined a post-Phish quartet with Mike Gordon and Trey Anastasio. They tried to swing both sets at Bonnaroo. Benevento and Russo are spectacular musicians; they must be professional masochists, too.

Indie rock bands are playing jam festivals because the pay is good. But indie kids don't typically go to jammy shows, and indie rock is defined less by qualities and sounds than qualifiers and scenes. We're at a point when everything-- from robed cults in choirs and polyrhythmic harpists in animal skins to cantankerous bands bleating about child stars and splintery trios playing math rock-- is deemed "indie rock." And, even if they're avoiding the mantle while gigging with Anastasio, the Benevento/Russo Duo is bold indie rock for right now.

Play Pause Stop goes straight for the gut: The titular opener is a cathedral-sized, eight-minute anthem, Russo's drums laying down colossal booms above and beneath Benevento's fuzz-toned Hammond runs. Two minutes in, they launch a lyric-less chorus for six voices-- "Whoa-oh-oh-oh." It turns to repeat, casting plotlines for the release and resolve the Duo builds with almost every track. The pair erects a spire-shaped theme only to bury it in a noisy midsection, a tone akin to that of Christian Fennesz' signal manipulation morphing melody into dynamic static. Three minutes later, they resurrect it and let it burn. It's bolder, heavier and prouder now, but still serving its tune well. Similarly, "Something for Rockets" rides a stepladder organ riff to the top like energy escaping an atmosphere. The ascension comes with the slow dazzle of infinity instead of climax. From up here, you can see the universal vistas of M83 and the heights of Bowie's Hunky Dory. It feels great.

Indeed, Benevento and Russo sound like they're having the time of their lives, and it's hard to blame them: For their debut, Best Reason to Buy the Sun, they zealously sacrificed the songs to manifest chops and imaginations. On Play Pause Stop, they play the songs big and let them shout for themselves. The dexterity and innovation manifest naturally. A progression this complete and successful-- no matter if it's linear-- should call for a victory screed, and this is it. It's easy, for instance, to picture them beaming during the final minute of "Soba", having weathered a half-dozen tempered and ponderous movements during the first four minutes. Time running out, they explode: Russo dances across the song with a frantic beat, and Benevento's two hands cut through it with acid-washed organ.

But neither the loaded emotion of the songs on Play Pause Stop nor the band's melodic devotion should suggest they're neglecting their theory-heavy past or adulterating their skills. To the contrary, there are no guests here, so the Duo is forced to play on another level. The two-man ideal pushes Benevento and Russo to seek new instruments and textures, incorporating guitar, Mellotron, Wurlitzer, and bass where there was none before. They focus their writing and playing around that expanded palette. The musical frills that are here-- that pause run on the title track, the humid guitar-and-bells motif of the closing "Memphis", the reverse guitars of "Powder" that eventually fall to a fiery organ restatement-- augment moods without diluting potency. It makes for a strong, agile, and ultimately believable record. Several more credible indie rockers could stand a little more of all three right now.