Canadian electro-pop bands Purity Ring and Braids at Union Transfer
Many young Philly-area concertgoers Saturday will attend the annual Roots Picnic on Festival Pier. But at Union Transfer, a pair of dreamy, electro-pop experimentalists will be holding forth: Purity Ring and Braids. There are two full shows, the late one being ideal for picnic attendees still looking for a live gig to hit. After a hot day in the sun, a blast of Canada's finest electro-pop acts should send you home cooler.

Many young Philly-area concertgoers Saturday will attend the annual Roots Picnic on Festival Pier. But at Union Transfer, a pair of dreamy, electro-pop experimentalists will be holding forth: Purity Ring and Braids. There are two full shows, the late one being ideal for picnic attendees still looking for a live gig to hit. After a hot day in the sun, a blast of Canada's finest electro-pop acts should send you home cooler.
Both bands benefit from similar influences - a little Björk here, a little Crystal Castles there.
Purity Ring is primed to top the charts someday. With a très-cool sound, hip-shaking grooves, and hug-your-honey ballads, this outfit displays deep reverence for R&B. Corin Roddick and Megan James left the indie rockers Gobble Gobble to form Purity Ring - and Gobble Gobble eventually became Born Gold, the opening act Saturday night at Union Transfer.
From their Gobble Gobble days on, Roddick and James had the funk deep in their hearts - sensuality and a bristling, soulful vocal sensibility, as in "Ungirthed," "Obedear" (from their debut album, Shrines, of 2012), and "25 Bucks," a track they performed with rapper Danny Brown. That R&B vibe distances Purity Ring from its ominous synth-pop sensibilities or calculatedly creepy lyrics, such as "cut open my sternum and poke" from "Fineshrine."
In this year's Another Eternity, Megan James' lyrics still occasionally read like a cross between a pharmacist's reference guide and a hospital lecture on pulmonary science. Yet, they reach into the heart in other ways, with ethereal, emotional songs such as "Begin Again," simmering with hip-hop heat and blue rhythmicity at every turn.
As for Braids, its recent album Deep in the Iris shows that singer Raphaelle Standell-Preston and the rest of the cold, dreamy ensemble haven't strayed far from their experimental brand. There are dense, serious songs about sexual and psychological abuse ("Miniskirt") and ennui ("Getting Tired"). But Braids, too, has a new effervescence to go with a layered synth sound that can't be denied, as on the healing homily "Letting Go" and the pulsating "Blondie."