Leggy

Strange how but a few short weeks ago, Cincinnati's Leggy would have been one of those bands that I'd probably have passed-by in the street without realising what a huge impact they'd be having on my listening pleasure. It's a frightening thought - aka too much good music out there - but for a chance encounter on the Twittersphere, my record collection (or at least its modern day digital equivalent) would somehow incomplete...

Leggy are back - stickmeister Chris Campbell, Kerstin Bladh cranking out a bass that will crush rib cages at five paces and Véronique Allaer not only guitar wielding but owner of that butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth voice - with a new EP, "DANG" and yet another collection of top-drawer and state-of-the-art indie-pop.

Invading the senses with distorted crashing guitar and tumbling percussion, "Bruises" hits you with 100 mph lyrics that fight to be heard above the raging sonic torrent and which are not so much sung as at times spat. It's an apt metaphor for a song that graphically demonstrates a relationship that's not so much gone bad as was fairly rotten to start with. The bruises of the song's title have left their indelible marks on Véronique's legs; "...& there are bruises on my legs where yr fingers were..." and her subsequent contempt is cutting; "...& hold yr hand like a purse I own, I know that it’s counterfeit but, I show it off like it’s real..." I've often remarked that while the devil may have all the best tunes - as Véronique ably demonstrates -  women have by far the best put-down lines. 

Now I'd normally suggest sitting down and prepare yourself for the EP's teaser "Even Lana", but - with Mrs Blog is on a business junket this week - while I should be writing about how ridiculously contagious this song is, I find myself bouncing around the lounge (I would say pogoing-a-go-go, but frankly the knees just aren't up to it these days...) With no lead-in, Véronique - with her sugar-and-spice-but-actually-a-mischievous-smirk vocals - playfully asks; "...I thought you said it was okay to kiss? I never tried to treat you badly..."; drums are hammered to within an inch of their lives as the bass and guitar duel it out on another noisy, energetic and perfectly presented slice of guitar driven indie-pop. Apparently an admirer of the aforementioned Ms. Del Ray, Véronique even adapt the lyrics from "Blue Jeans" ("...& Even Lana found a man who fit her better than her favourite sweater...") as she describes those feelings of sadness and anger as an ex parades their latest flame, admitting that splitting with them probably was the smartest move she's made...  However the beauty of this song is that it's never maudlin (at 2' 06" it's probably best not to dwell on things for too long) - she's one tough cookie, as "fuck it, move on" appears to be her motto - and besides when percussion and guitars rattle a song along at such a whirlwind pace, it's best not to stand still and contemplate...

"Even Lana" is the first shoe-in for December's year end retrospective.  Face it, if you're in a band and are struggling to work out how to hook an audience from the off, you could do a lot worse than listen to this...

Now any song that includes a chorus along the lines of ""...Like a baby smoking cigarettes, or a lash against the cornea, you are abrasive and offensive, I really gotta stop rewarding ya..." you'd think is going to be fairly brutal - which taking a leaf from spiky Toronto trio The Beverleys' debut album - with pounding percussion, distorted bass and a healthy dose of punky guitar riffs - the sound most definitely is. But the trick of "Backyard" is the way in which the band deflect this darker edge with deliciously tongue-in-cheek lyrics - extolling the 'virtues' of partying-hard and hanging out with boys that you probably wouldn't introduce to mum and dad  - which are once again expertly gift-wrapped in Véronique's sugar-and-spice-but-with-a-wicked-glint-in-her-eyes vocals.

 The EP closes with "Waisted" (although I'm fighting my OCD with the spelling of the song's title) and some seriously distorted bass and muddied drums which morphs into an overdose of surf-rock guitars and a not-to-sad lament that suggests "sorry" isn't so much the hardest word as just a word. As another relationship bites the dust, the song is yet reminder that the troubled road of romance is a rather bumpy journey. Indeed, there's a case to be made that "DANG" offers a quartet of thoroughly modern vignettes about the trials and tribulations of 21st Century dating from the perspective of someone for whom the phrase "little back number" can only refer to a pair of Dr Martens' Original 1460s.

"DANG" is "Nice Try" redux - darker - frayed around the edges and a little more world-weary - (or as Punk News puts it; "...adding more road rash and cigarette burns to a leather jacket...") but still drawn from the same heady concoction of garagy Lo-Fi, post-punky, surf rockin, with a dash of grunge thrown-in, home-brew indie-pop (phew...) that has made the the band's back catalogue a breath of fresh air.

Leggy
"DANG" (Bandcamp), (Manic Static)