One hell of a drummer and loud, loud, slap bass. The music was a direct contrast to the singer’s voice, which was ex-sques-ite-ly sweet, melodious and flowery.
You think I’m running this show, but Lollipop is just an excuse for a bunch of speeding kamikazes to shake out the contents of their brains on a piece of paper.
Walking down the street. It’s like a fashion parade and me under-dressed. It seems everyone got all gussied up for the occasion of… walking down the street.
The release’s finest points are during the more fingersnapping, uptempo big band full-swing numbers when the band members all get to show off their chops.
A throaty sneer filled with contempt, chants, moans, and howls over brutal grind and deathy thrash. The production is sharp, digging claws into your flesh.
The first few songs bop around and hide their catchy hooks beneath warm’n’fuzzy distortion. The tempos are quick and Bangles-ish and the topics airy and fun.