Singer is a hot chick who’ll kick your ass and the sleaze punk is ground out by guys sweating their balls off. Best tunes are the bottle-throwing party tunes.
The singer is actually male, he’s got a little bit of a Dead Milkmen/Jerry Lewis thing going on, but they love it in France, and that’s good enough for me.
I’ve never believed anything The Mooney Suzuki have said or performed. Add to that the fact they called in the same songwriting team as Avril fucking Levine.
Ugly, noisy, and brutal, even when strumming an acoustic, and heavy in that sludgy, painful way, like playing old Slayer riffs with a blanket over the amp.
’80s rock riffs, Beatlesque harmonies, and Dinasaur Jr. dissonance. Travis Shettel inexplicably treats them all with the same vessel-bursting screamatude.