My dad is a huge fan of progressive rock. He’s very opinionated on the matter. On more than one occasion he’s admonished me for describing a band as “proggy,” or for trying to tell him about some new subgenre, i.e. post-rock — he says that something so unclassifiable that it needs a new subgenre is, in fact, prog-rock. And proggy, you see, cannot be a descriptive term because the idea of progressive rock is that it sounds like nothing else; it’s more a club than a genre. Prog-rock, by definition, is a totally nebulous word.

But come now. Progressive rock, like any other genre, has identifiers and giveaways that can allow one to legitimately describe a band as proggy.

Definition: Proggy is an adjective that denotes a band or song that utilizes complex time signatures; tricky tempo changes; long, frequently noodling solos; and the general divergence from the standard three-and-a-half minute rock format.

Used in a sentence: $2,000 Puma is proggy.

If one were not allowed to use the term “proggy,” $2,000 Puma would be a very difficult band to classify.

“I think we always tried to approach things differently,” says Greg Merrell, lead singer and guitarist. “We’re all into a lot of different kinds of music. … We always try and switch up what kind of sound we’re going for on a song-by-song basis.”

Though the band has only been together for a little under a year, they’ve got serious chops. Prog-rock is difficult enough to play, let alone make entertaining. For all their noodling, $2,000 Puma’s music stills possesses the intense propulsion of great rock ‘n’ roll.

Did you know that pumas (the animals) can be purchased on the black market for $2,000?

Well, believe it or not, a good prog-rock band can be even more valuable.

[The New Frontier Lounge, Friday, Oct. 30, $2000 Puma with Judson Claiborne, Wheelies, 9 p.m., cover TBA, 301 E. 25th St., Tacoma, 253.572.4020]