Can’t say I ever had “tangental reformation of The Ooga Boogas” on my list of probabilities for 2021, but here we are staring at the debut from Power Supply, an album that’s essentially the great Boogas under a new marquee. Looser and leaner than the Boogas’ garage shake, Power Supply finds itself indebted to the Velvets/Lovers lineage, though they shake out of the shambolic smirk now and again to let the dirt under their fingernails fester as the album wears on. Leon Stackpole lets his nasal vocals saunter through the band’s sinewy shred and, really, it’s Stackpole that instigated this second coming of sorts in the first place — pulling his past bandmates piecemeal into his orbit again until it all began to gel once more.
In the wake of the Boogas the bandmates all went diving in different directions, but Leon just dropped his surname and went for the solo stint, eventually getting up a bit of a tour. As the need for a fuller sound mounted, he began to call in those ex-cohorts one by one until what remained was familiar but far from what they’d once been. What truly sets the band apart from the shadow of the Oogas is the relaxed air. In their former life, the band was met with mounting demands and expectations, much like what beset friends and compatriots Eddy Current.
With the time off and subsequent shift to the name Power Supply, the band feels limber — loose enough to let wandering interludes like “Infinity and 90” center the album, whispering around a strange headspace. The creeping calm works its way back for the title track as well, but more often than not, the let that low-slung groove grip once again. It’s an album with no specter haunting it, no need weighing it down. Power Supply get wander free through their impulses, and while no one was looking they made a damn fine debut.