NEP at Cat’s Cradle, Carrboro, NCWeb: robertlesterfolsom.comContact: dshaw@baselinemusic.comPlayers: Nep, vocals; Tyler Pons, drums; Sophia Damiani, bass; Jake Sonderman, guitar

Grab your slide rules: Albert Einstein almost had it right, but the real equation on display at Cat’s Cradle was E = NEP².

That proof arrived in the form of NEP (yes, that’s really her name)—a shadow-boxing indie-pop artist who brought a cocktail of swagger, nervous laughter, and Daytona Beach daydreams to the adoring Back Room crowd.

NEP burst onto the stage with a quick four-song salvo: “Daytona,” “Fender,” “Lovelace,” and “Milktown,” followed by the brisk pop flash of “Rocket Ship.” None of it calmed the room. If anything, the next stretch detonated the place: “Teddy,” “Biketoberfest,” “All Around Beauty,” and “Soundtrack” spilled out in a sugar rush of jangling guitars and nervous giggles.

The crowd surged toward the stage in what became a kind of musical cyclone. The quartet itself looked almost comically small against the swell of bodies pressed forward—NEP, her guitarist, and drummer hovering around the five-foot mark, while the bass player stood like a benevolent giant beside them.

Add NEP’s constant giggle—somewhere between nervous energy and mischievous charm—and the whole affair began to resemble a cinematic “escape from the kids’ table at Thanksgiving.”

The guitar work was simple and unadorned—almost stubbornly so—but it carried a kind of innocence that fit the material. The grooves were uncomplicated, the structures tidy, and the melodies had the breezy, slightly sunburned feel of songs written somewhere between a dorm room and a beach parking lot.

At times, the silliness threatened to overwhelm the music. There were genuinely lovely musical moments that got sliced apart by NEP’s constant asides and laughter. The vibe in the room became so beach-soaked you could almost smell the Coppertone and feel sand under your feet. The sugary, slightly smug Hello Kitty delivery sometimes obscured the delicate little juxtapositions the band—competent if understated—was putting together.

Mid-set, the groove settled into something like autopilot before reanimating with “I Close My Eyes,” “Florida Girl,” and the crowd favorite “Pup.” Without a dominant soloist or any real instrumental grandstanding, the evening became less about virtuosity and more about atmosphere: a blend of sonic melancholy and occasional Beach Blanket Bingo chaos.

The songwriting itself showed care. Songs were thoughtfully paced and clearly diaristic. There may not yet be an obvious hit single lurking in the catalog, but a certain gravitational pull—something about Daytona, about leaving and remembering—kept the set moving forward.

That Florida lineage occasionally bubbled at the surface. The warm embers of Tom Petty and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers flickered here and there, and the ghost of Southern guitar traditions that ultimately fed into The Allman Brothers Band hovered around the edges of the sound.

Elsewhere you could hear faint splashes of quirky new-wave DNA—moments that hinted at the playful pop instincts of Bow Wow Wow and the bright theatricality later embraced by Culture Club—another clue to the mixing bowl of beach culture, pop instinct, and youthful irreverence that NEP seems to inhabit. The post NEP at Cat’s Cradle, Carrboro, NC first appeared on Music Connection Magazine.