Kamikaze Girls – Sad EP Review

kamikaze girls sadUnafraid to reveal their true nature, Kamikaze Girls are opening their discography with the debut EP Sad, where the fresh Riot Grrrl style of the Leeds/London based duo is coupled with their raw carefree punk attitude and takes a spirited introspective and manifests it through music. Sharing is caring and Kamikaze Girls give up a healthy delivery of dark and emotional cabaret to validation.

Sad is a strong independent extended play that doesn’t need any bollocks. Its sentiments to the establishment aren’t very edgy or offensive, sounding like the thoughts and considerations of an elderly hippie. Alright Grandma we love you.  But you know what it’s far more grounded and intelligible than your Mum or Dads iTunes collection (democratically speaking.) Within its wryness Kamikaze Girls are rather affectionate.

Gauging the riffs they’re tithe to the 90’s indie scene and sound reminiscent of rainy days and memories of a summer shared with cooler friends. When applying the riot grrrl attitude on the content they’ve performed it with a great amount of vigor, making uncomfortable harmonies that are ugly but strangely alluring, or is that tight but alienating? Either way Kamikaze Girls play with juxtapositions to artistic merit.

When taking the compositions at face value they’re engaging and individually salient with enough range to create a breathing space for the dramatic narrative espoused by the lyrics of Lucinda Livingstone.  The complexities of which try to engender the bands current identity. Unlike the social commentary of the 90’s acts Kamikaze Girls offer a very histrionic and millennial prose.

Although the songs are rich with hooks their momentum is trapped behind catchy pop-rock moves that nullify the desperate message of solidarity that the band prioritises with its energetic sound. Offering up homogenised art as a political signal and furthering the weaponisation of social care.

7/10

About David Oberlin 519 Articles
David Oberlin is a composer and visual artist who loves noise more than a tidy writing space. You can often find him in your dankest nightmares or on twitter @DieSkaarj while slugging the largest and blackest coffee his [REDACTED] loyalty card can provide.