They don't make em like this anymore. The Regrettes debut's in the running for best rock album of 2017, or, fuckit, best album of the year, period. My gut is its not even close.
On one hand, FYFF is this, like, fucking perfect blend of
- 60's girl-group clap, clicks, coos, and innocence
- 90's riot grrrl crunch and deadpan selfconfidence
- 00's 3rd-wave pop-punk manic pogo mainlined joy
- precisely 2017 I-shouldn't-even-have-to-say-this-shit-by-now feminism. Shit like "sometimes I'm girly and sometimes I'm not" and "if you ask me out I'm still allowed to say...no way". The full-on fully-righteous long-overdue war on creeps.
On the other, it's just the most frenetically personal, heedlessly fun, album of the year, not afraid to get weird, not afraid to shred, just generally full stop not afraid. Lydia Night's got the perfect voice for the sound, she's a legend day one.
And they don't make em like this anymore, in that: it's 15 songs, never the same, never boring, perfectly paced, with ebbs and flows of energy right down to a little secret song encore. The kind of thing that I would have listened to over and over and over in high school, and that's still radically now. I don't even want to spoil it, but jesuschrist that kickin from the delivery of the title line isffffff___uk
Thank god for rock, and albums, and rock albums. Packed with moments, all those start-stops, big operatic swings, blistering chugging breakdowns, a grand tour of all the great moments in pop history and a tip into the future. This is a lifeline, more more more like this, Regrettes and everyone 5/5
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