Perfect Pussy At The Sinclair (8/27)

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The cover art of Perfect Pussy’s debut album, Say Yes To Love, is their logo in a soft pastel pink placed atop an all-white background. Oh yeah, and that logo is covered in glitter. One would think that, upon taking that record out of the sleeve and throwing it on the turntable, it probably wouldn’t sound like what it does. Say Yes To Love is a roller coaster of noise punk. It explodes with energy over the course of its eight songs, and is the subject of a lot of buzz in the music industry.

Arriving at the Sinclair, Potty Mouth was the first band that I caught. Being unfamiliar with their material, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but they did not disappoint whatsoever. They blew through song after song of rock and roll and only seemed to sound better with each number. Midway through, as if Potty Mouth wasn’t satisfied with their already great set, they showcased heaps of new material just to top themselves.

Perfect Pussy then took the stage to a very anxious crowd. The New York band is fairly young, having only just released their album this year, but their reputation as a fiery live band is already far underway. From the second they stepped on stage to the moment they exited, they did all but raise the Sinclair to the ground.

The Sinclair’s sound system let the band down, however. The vocals and guitar were drowned out by the bass and drums, and (ironically) most of the synth/noise machine levels were lost in the mix. Perfect Pussy made the best of it, though. Being a truly great punk band, they used it to their advantage; combining their efforts into a smashing, violent wall of sound that proved they weren’t concerned with the pleasing audiophiles, but smashing in eardrums.

Despite much of her vocals being lost in the mix, Meredith Graves exuded energy for their entire performance. The masterful frontwoman didn’t miss a single word in between high-kicking the air and her frenzied dance moves. Graves was so animated in fact, that she even cracked jokes about her pants constantly falling down. Garrett Koloski was a primal force behind his drum set—barely able to hold back playing in between songs. There were almost no moments of silence during Perfect Pussy’s set; he was itching to play for every second he spent on stage. Also of note: one of the craziest mosh pits I’ve seen broke out during their set and boy, it was ferocious. It was as if the audience was hoping to match the band’s insane presence. Their set was a little on the short side (roughly 20 minutes) but they crammed more into it than most bands do in twice that time.

Joanna Gruesome followed with (big surprise!) another excellent set. Led by Alanna McArdle, the noise pop outfit played a fuzzed-out collection of songs which focused mainly on material from their debut album Weird Sister. They even played a song from their upcoming split with Perfect Pussy. Joanna Gruesome’s sound was much cleaner than Perfect Pussy’s, sounding almost identical to their recorded versions.

The only downer of the night came about when a handful of rowdy guys started to mosh midway through Joanna Gruesome’s act, causing some tempers to flare up. While the pit was practically expected during the previous act, it was not so well received for Joanna Gruesome’s jangly set. One girl was hurt in their recklessness, and McArdle took to the microphone to remind them how “fucked up” the situation that they started really was. After all, that girl paid to see those bands, but instead was forced to leave because five guys couldn’t keep it together. Normally, a band picking a fight with the audience generates an intensely awkward feeling that lingers throughout the night and refusing to dissipate, but luckily this was an exception. The crowd cheered in agreement with McArdle, and the last few songs carried on without a hitch.

All in all, though, the whole night belonged to the bass players: Ally Einbinder of Potty Mouth, Greg Ambler of Perfect Pussy, or Max Warren of Joanna Gruesome. Einbender brought some seriously talented playing. There was one moment where I looked over and saw her fingers flying over the neck of her instrument. I hadn’t seen a bass playing shred in some time, and it was a welcoming sight. Ambler followed the trend—his raw intensity could be heard during Perfect Pussy’s set. The bass may have been overbearing, but it was so well executed that it was easily overlooked. And it was Warren who, in the spirit of punk, started off Joanna Gruesome’s set by sticking his middle finger right in the face of an audience member before bopping around and having a blast on stage.

All three bands played an equal part in an overall rockin’ evening. There were a couple speedbumps, but all were surmounted with fearlessness and killer guitar riffs.