Feminists: don't search "screaming females" on google image! (because of porn duh)
Screaming Females – Starving Dog
Dusted Magazine recently published a pretty interesting review of Yeasayer’s upcoming Odd Blood, in which reviewer Charlie Wilmoth (who I insist, despite an interesting similarity in name, is not me) discusses the waning importance of rock music and its removal from the center of American musical culture in favor of singles-oriented hip-hop/techno/whatever-the-fuck-Lady-Gaga-is. (And I’d recommend that you read the article in its entirety for an excellent opinion of Yeasayer’s extremely frustrating, at-times-brilliant, at-times-idiotic new album.)
But in the other corner are New Brunswick’s Screaming Females, offering a vocal testament to the opposing perspective – a testament to the healing properties of punk rock, spitting in the face of the technocrats, the 808s, the Drakes and Gagas. I mean, frontwoman Marissa Paternoster is fucking living apotheosis of everyone’s ability to pick up a guitar, learn dad’s favorite three chords, and rule the world (you’ll also instantly become cooler than that douchebag at parties who “plays guitar bro”). Paternoster stands on the lesser side of five feet, but the band’s sound is based entirely on her – when she screams on “Bell” and shreds on “Starving Dog” and then flips it around and writes a genuinely affecting little pop gem, “I Do.” All of this has a vaguely early-90s lo-fi vibe (Sleater Kinney, Superchunk, Sonic Youth, Riot Grrrl, etc.), but it never sounds put on or disingenuous – it sounds like Screaming Females are offering a noble defense of rock music, of punk-pop and wailing guitars, basement shows and the idea of the rock anthem. Which is completely necessary for anyone who likes their music loud, and with a side of fuck-you.
