This is spleen venting filth with a mean garage grind that ties punk up in white-knuckle knots…
“These aren’t just imitations of old tones and lost soundtracks, though their imprints are more than all over, every track holds a wealth of 80’s offshoot sub-genres from new-wave to synth-prog to pop…”
“Gasoline, turpentine, hard times, and pulled triggers, every Bible belt trope gets thrown in. They get mixed up with drums that rank power over prowess and guitar tones that bleed out of speakers…”
“This is energy honed, owned and punked. This is New York junk trashed for the masses. It belongs in a sweatbox on hot summer eve in a downtown back avenue slam…”
We’re in the church of repetition where the spray paint on the alter says ‘one good riff is good enough so don’t waste it’.
“From the opening bars of DIY Fisher-Price lofi post-punk disco, my earballs are alive and alert…”
“Don’t be kid by easy feelings, don’t be fooled by cool pop vibes… a whole range of regrets and could have done betters can get made in those long still-warm evenings.”
You could hunt around looking for fat to trim off but you’d be hard pushed to find much to cut. Personality Cult’s new debut LP is a lean hard wired helping of short, sharp, sweet tracks packed with thin wry-lipped smiles and breezy snot nosed punk.