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This damaged postpunk trio from Olympia, Washington, spend an awful lot of time lurching through their new double album, Yellow (Captured Tracks), a repetitive exercise in crude deconstruction clearly inspired by their key influence, Wire. But where Wire operate with deadly precision and purpose, Naomi Punk seem more baffled than baffling, and it’s anyone’s guess why they decided to express in 75 minutes what easily could’ve been dispatched in 20. The trio’s unmoored explorations of minimal postpunk tunefulness include some wonderful moments, and their songs work especially well when tantalizing melodies recede or collapse just when a payoff seems on the horizon—but after 30 minutes, not to mention 45, that method begins to feel like a gimmick. I suppose the duration is an intentional gambit—perhaps an attempt to make deliberately “difficult” music—but audiences have an easy out if they get bored. They can stop listening. v