The artwork is minimalist, a photograph reminiscent maybe of a Belle and Sebastian LP cover. But don’t be quick to judge, because something far more sinister than a pretty picture of a pretty girl lies underneath. Singer-guitarist Levi Bailey’s tongue is planted firmly in cheek, spitting rants on sex, society, violence and religion the only way punk rock should: with brutal honesty. While the band may be inspired by Imperial Teen and the Pixies as much as any hardcore bands, all the shimmer and shine that marred the Spits last effort has been stripped. Speaking of, the final tracks of Piss are alternate recordings of their last album, an open “fuck-you letter” to the feeble label that ruined it, Eyeball Records (whose “esteemed” alumni includes My Chemical Romance and Thursday). There’s no spoonful of sugar approach this time around, just a bitter pill to be swallowed.
Luke Hackney writes about music for Metro Times. Send comments to [email protected].
