12 Songs, 31 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

With a name and sound that would’ve guaranteed them underground/alternative status in the '80s, the Syracuse, N.Y.–based Perfect Pussy now find their lo-fi hardcore punk attack embraced by none other than NPR, whose new generation surely grew up with the likes of Dead Kennedys, Minor Threat, and eventually Sleater-Kinney pounding their eardrums. A song like “Interference Fits” offers an abrasive outer shell with a sweet melodic center that’s been the secret appeal for thousands of bands who’ve fought the good fight in determining the proper balance between the two extremes. Singer Meredith Graves nails the percentages, and everything about this debut album screams excitement. The production gives everything they touch an urgency that goes direct for the solar plexus—and this is considered a sonic upgrade from the combustion of their earlier demo. Graves sings about her issues with a passion that establishes her frontwoman credentials beyond any doubt. There’s even a lo-amplifier hum and tape hiss that draws out “Advance Upon the Real” for minutes after the song’s completion, yet it doesn’t feel self-indulgent. And the live version is even more chaotic.

EDITORS’ NOTES

With a name and sound that would’ve guaranteed them underground/alternative status in the '80s, the Syracuse, N.Y.–based Perfect Pussy now find their lo-fi hardcore punk attack embraced by none other than NPR, whose new generation surely grew up with the likes of Dead Kennedys, Minor Threat, and eventually Sleater-Kinney pounding their eardrums. A song like “Interference Fits” offers an abrasive outer shell with a sweet melodic center that’s been the secret appeal for thousands of bands who’ve fought the good fight in determining the proper balance between the two extremes. Singer Meredith Graves nails the percentages, and everything about this debut album screams excitement. The production gives everything they touch an urgency that goes direct for the solar plexus—and this is considered a sonic upgrade from the combustion of their earlier demo. Graves sings about her issues with a passion that establishes her frontwoman credentials beyond any doubt. There’s even a lo-amplifier hum and tape hiss that draws out “Advance Upon the Real” for minutes after the song’s completion, yet it doesn’t feel self-indulgent. And the live version is even more chaotic.

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