Wymmen eh? With their nail polishes and Bodyform and inexplicable obsession with the Kardashians. HAHAHAHA wymmen. Such majestic creatures. Like unicorns.
It’s kind of a wonder then – like a GLITTERY UNICORN – when women wield guitars like their XY-chromosoned counterparts and thrash out jaw-droppping riffs that give you tummy somersaults. If that’s what we can do with a guitar, imagine what we could do with a cock??
Woah. Went a little bit Sara-Cox-circa-1998 there… Anyway, these grrrlz are rocking my tiny little wrrrrrld right now, and sharing is caring so here’s some to to stick on and channel your inner Courtney Love to this weekend.
HAIM
Every fashion blog from Nylon, Topshop, Vogue and *cough* ASOS have dug their WAH-manicured talons into Los Angeles trio HAIM. Maybe it’s because fashion folk are pre-programmed to fawn over sisters (see: living nodding dolls Mary-Kate, Ashley and now, Lizzie Olsen, Poppy and Cara Delevigne, Dakota and Elle Fanning) but they’re also pretty effing good.
Fans of nudity will be happy to hear HAIM sometimes strip down to their Walmart undies lingerie on stage for a 60% sexier experience. If sex sells then I’M SOLD.
Tell everyone they’re the next: Hanson
Savages
Currently only two songs into their burgeoning career (and one of those is a B-side), it might be jumping the gun to hail this four-piece as saviours of post-punk (does post-punk even need a saviour?) but I’m happy to hedge my bets on Savages whose most popular song to date, Husbands is like an injection of paranoia juice with a frenetic energy and whisper-shout vocal that was surely designed to play over A Clockwork Orange montage, projected on a wall in a divey Peckham basement. SOMEONE MAKE THIS HAPPEN.
Tell everyone they’re the next: Beatles
2:54
Anything that reminds me of being a moody teenager, inhaling three packets of Maryland cookies and playing Theme Hospital until Bloaty Head and Hairyitis seem like totally legit diseases, will get the proverbial thumbs up from me.
This pair (again, sisters!) are the soundtrack to awkward pubescent years of slamming doors (take THAT authority) and wearing shitloads of black – not in a cute LBD way, more in a ‘Nancy from The Craft, Manon-invoking, lace curtain and winkle-pickers sporting, psycho motherfuck’ way. Listening to 2:54 is like mental regression without the hypnotherapy bill.
Tell everyone they’re the next: Addams Family
Comments
Lucy
THANKS! That 2:54 song has been haunting me. Now I knows zactly who its by and can site them after my warbled renditions on the tube.