Perfect Pussy
– THE DEAF INSTITUTE, MANCHESTER –
The rumour that Joanna Gruesome were forged in the midst of anger management classes may or may not be true, but it seems a fitting beginning based on their performance tonight. Careering from gleeful pop to controlled aggression across an 8 song set, they appear simultaneously self-deprecating yet certain, with a group of songs that appear to single out and celebrate life’s absurdities, casting their gaze over human weakness and making a joke of it.
Indeed in a set that contained so many false starts and in-jokes – a further (and probably true) rumour being that they never rehearse – it could be easy to dismiss them as lightweight and frivolous. But there is a real sense that there is an off-kilter worldview at play underneath the pop-punk abandon that merits further listening. They somehow managed to simultaneously frustrate, worry and charm me, and in doing so very much won me over. While so many “serious” bands essay towards the savage heart and press for the darkness, Joanna Gruesome shine a light on the surface as if to say it doesn’t matter – they know life is hard but chose to smile, and pretend not to bother: I like them for that.
In the general rush to congratulate each seasons new crop of young transatlantic imports, it can be easy to miss some gems in the hype. Perfect Pussy have garnered much mixed opinion in their short career, and listening to their album Say Yes to Love it is clear they are not hidebound by the strictures of the “hardcore” label. Their album – while sonically difficult – has a depth of thought and structure that suggests they are already challenging some of the tired rules of the genre, with Meredith Graves lyrics and Shaun Sutkus’ keyboards of particular interest, and as they take to the stage I’m intrigued to see how this translates live.
As it is, we’re treated to a blistering reminder of what classic hardcore can be: Unloading broadsides of focussed aggression, Perfect Pussy move from a standing start to flat out obliteration with a minimum of fuss, and unleash a series of 1-2 combinations that has heads spinning and hearts racing at the velocity of their performance. Openers “Bells” and “Driver” are a seething tirade, and a thundering and brutal deconstruction of some of their stronger material to the most basic precepts of volume and feedback. Indeed it seemed at time the PA was yowling out its own version of the songs, as they seemed unrecognisable from the album versions.
If the intention was to travel from the states to smash into an expectant audience and confound expectation, I’m not sure. As it was their delivery was devoid of the subtler and ear friendlier touches of their album, and their strongest song “Interference Fits” in particular lost any identity in the melee of fuzz and feedback. In that sense it was sad that Graves manipulation of language was lost in a ferocious, but ultimately one dimensional, performance.
Perfect Pussy may have elected to effect an ironic delivery of the demands of being a “hardcore” band, or they may not yet be mature enough as a band to explore their albums depth in the live setting, and this is to the detriment of some well structured songs. However in the simplest terms Perfect Pussy still manage to cleanse the system. If you want to see a band tear holes in their own music , before the challenge to play in larger halls dissipates their energy, check them out soon.
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