POP MUSIC REVIEW : Primitives’ Pastiche Lacks Panache

Armed with a brace of bracing, brazen pop singles (“Crash” and “Way Behind Me”), at least one great change of pace (the shimmering, 6/8 “Summer Rain”) and just about the whole left wing of the cultural warehouse (everything from Blondie to the Velvet Underground, anyway), British POP group the Primitives powered through nearly an hour’s worth of pastiche at Bogart’s on Saturday.

At worst, ‘twas pleasant, if a bit lacking in panache. (If the Primitives had more of the latter, then they’d be Transvision Vamp--but panache is about all TV has . . . .)

Pixilated, henna-headed chanteuse Tracey, guitarist Paul Court--a regular nick off the (Johnny) Marr, he is--and aggro drummer Tig Williams are the quintet’s core, but too often the bottom-heaviness of it all left the dulcet vocalist in the sonic dust. She may be cute, but there’s no substitute for being able to command a stage.