PVT is a three piece that combines guitar, bass, keyboards, percussion, and the magic of the
laptop, crafting ten songs that are intricately designed and layered. Co-founder Richard Pike’s
voice is used primarily as an instrument and, like the missing vowels in their name (for legal
reasons, the band recently abandoned the “Pivot” moniker), his lyrics serve only to give an
abstract idea instead of a story or ideology. Instead, he uses his dramatic howl to entwine the
varied pieces of the song.

Opening their third full-length is the tonesetter “Community.” It presents adrift vocals over
a fluttering synthesizer. The fluttering concept is later reused in “Circle of Friends” as means
of giving texture to a demure soundscape. After the intro, however, the band replaces such
calming sounds with heavier, more defined beats and percussion. Ultimately, PVT combines
atmospheric rock with strong influences from electronica, post-rock and a touch of gothic and
industrial. There are many elements to each of these songs, and they often identify themselves
not by soundscape, but by contrast. The beats are up front in the mix and, as a result, they
define the texture while Pike’s vocals and the synthesizer effects serve as the backbone,
presenting the melody and structure.

“Light Up Bright Fires” is the standout track, with a dancey-element mixed smoothly into
textured electronica. There are enough lyrics to discern a memorable hook, but not to distract
from the focal sonic textures. “Window” is another memorable track, and perhaps the band’s
most adventurous. Taking their layered format, the band adds a looped, syncopated vocal style
with shades of Talking Heads’ catchiness and complex percussion patterns. “Timeless” utilizes
a rising action, post-rock influenced build-up but, for the most part, the band keeps things
contained in three-to-four minute songs.

The lesser songs come when the percussion and electronic blips are mixed into the background.
In “Circle of Friends” and “Only the Wind Can Hear You,” the lack of contrast leads to a
wandering, aimless tone. The sometimes abrasive beats are what hold PVT’s compositions
together and when they aim for a more atmospheric approach, the record suffers. Overall,
Church with No Magic is a solid record, with moments of striking, electronically-layered
composition. The more complex the sound, the more effective the band is at creating a cloudy
day mood that sits between gothic melodrama and sun-peeking-through-the-clouds optimism.