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by on Feb 11, 2014

perfect pussy, i have lost all desire for feeling, tape, syracuse, los angeles, lo-pie, 2013, lopie, lo pie, lo pie musicPerfect Pussy //
I Have Lost All Desire for Feeling

Self Released
1/5 Pies

Recommended Track: I

Okay, listen: it’s not that Perfect Pussy is completely without merit. I actually think they’re pretty okay. It’s just “one of those things,” I guess. For the first couple listens ­I like them. Anymore than that and I end up only *wanting* to like them. It is a drag of a feeling akin to meeting someone new, getting to know them and then realizing that they seem to be concerned with the dumbest shit. Like being stoked on Barack Obama still or watching too much reality television or maybe they talk about what they read on “Noisey” too much and un­-ironically think Miley Cyrus is Punk and Haim is a great band for people of all ages to listen to.

Now this might sound like the embittered ramblings of a disillusioned 30­-something (and it is) but there’s also the fact that Perfect Pussy’s best song “I” sounds like the sloppiest, drunkest members of Jawbreaker and Pretty Girls Make Graves started a “totally lo-fi,” less articulate Life Without Buildings cover band. There’s some stand-out riffs but it almost feels like everything is lost in the wash so that we can’t pick up on some pretty blatant influences that seem like Hardcore DC but come off as a tad “emo.” Now maybe this new­fangled avant-­garde crowd finds this “in a wind ­tunnel, Tascam shitting glass and gravel” recording style to be charming, but I don’t. This stuff works better when you can hear what the singer is actually saying. I get that these supposedly prosaic sketches of personal pain are supposed to be rife with meaning but I can’t help but think this band would’ve been more interesting if it was fronted by the Meredith Graves who brought a gun to the World Trade Center. These lyrics are better off as faded pencil scribblings on the inside of a Pee­Chee folder.

Oh, you’re “full of light”? Rad. I’m full of slag and soot from drinking out of a bottle of hot whiskey that somebody ashed and *maybe* pissed in. But, you know…I get it. I’m dead inside and they still got that spunk. And while it’s that very same gusto that can potentially makes this 4­-song EP so endearing, by the time you’re at “IV” you find yourself staring at the side of this new friend’s head thinking: “This isn’t. It’s just. I can’t. I don’t care.” Besides, I mean how many of these “nu new york 90s noise punk rock hardcore throwback” bands are gonna be force­-fucked down our throats? Anyone remember Cerebral Ballzy? Or one of the 11 other “super­-edgy” bands that have “White” or a naughty swear word in their name”? I fucking don’t and it’s just as likely that you’re gonna need a search engine (with the adult content filter on) to find out what this band is up to in 2 years. Sorry, dudes. I guess I’m just like Steven Hawking caught in an ankle ­lock: I ain’t feelin’ it.

 

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