{"id":4582,"date":"2014-08-18T01:21:33","date_gmt":"2014-08-18T00:21:33","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thesenseofdoubt.com\/?p=4582"},"modified":"2016-12-10T21:48:27","modified_gmt":"2016-12-10T21:48:27","slug":"ep-review-primetime-primetime","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/box2305.temp.domains\/~thesent5\/ep-review-primetime-primetime\/","title":{"rendered":"Primetime: EP REVIEW"},"content":{"rendered":"

Primetime:\u00a0EP REVIEW<\/h2>\n

Courtesy of\u00a0Nikhil Kanukuntla<\/span><\/h5>\n

\u2605\u2605\u2605\u00bd<\/p>\n

If, at any time, you’ve shared my discontent over the fact that ‘Shamble Punk’ is still a term not widely used in the patois of music writing (bar the C86<\/em> ‘shambling bands’ as John Peel<\/strong> so affectionately called them), take comfort in the fact that Shamble Punk still exists.<\/p>\n

End to end it is a multilateral, hedonistic riot of a 7″. The fact that the instrumentation is often drunkenly rendered is a moot point. The effortless cool of the all-female four piece is incessant and immediately made present, much like the walloping drumming; engineered particularly well so as to dance across both speakers in gleeful fashion. It’s the drumming that greets you first; irregularly but reasonably enchanting while the serpentine bass chokes down the squabble of gargling power chords, a signature of punk rock. The twin lead vocal arrangement intensifies the gangland girl-group exhibition, a concoction from some sort of fleshy, open-ended Burgess novel. It’s a true debauched British dynamic; anger heard in a local intonation but simple enough to concern you. In the style of certain new wave bands like Squeeze<\/strong>, the twin vocals are sung at different pitches to each other, often one more deadpan and bored. It’s a contriving technique, and some kind of musical equivalent to peer pressure.<\/p>\n

\"unnamed\"<\/a>Although obvious comparisons can be made to popular female punk bands such as Slant 6<\/strong> in terms of lyrical content as well as style, Primetime<\/strong> deserve to have this EP looked at individualistically. Their dissection of social anatomy and sexual politics is almost charmingly idiosyncratic. “I want your body not your mind\/don’t want to see you all the time”<\/em> sing frontwomen Lucy Anstey<\/strong> and Claudia Serfaty <\/strong>in this\u00a0<\/strong>killer hook positioned in the Bukowskian realms of casual sex and trivial relationships.\u00a0On ‘<\/i>Tied down’, their debut single<\/span>,\u00a0<\/span>frontwomen\u00a0<\/span>Lucy Anstey\u00a0<\/strong>and\u00a0<\/span>Claudia Serfaty\u00a0<\/b>sing:<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u201cI want your body not your mind\/don\u2019t want to see you all the time\u201d<\/em>\u00a0; a<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>killer hook positioned in the Bukowskian realms of casual sex and trivial relationships. \u2018Last Night’, the opening track on the EP is essentially all chorus, and is almost humorous in its delivery;\u00a0<\/span>\u201cI was at home\/but I should\u2019ve gone out last night,\u201d<\/em>\u00a0it\u00a0<\/span>doesn’t<\/span>\u00a0get much simpler. Spoken word ramblings i.e.\u00a0<\/span><\/span>\u201cat least I\u00a0<\/span>didn’t<\/span>\u00a0embarrass myself\u201d<\/span><\/em>\u00a0that nudge its way through the gaps of the song make this a real delight of a track, and prevent it from boredom. It keeps the punchy atmosphere in touch with its Indie pop roots, a nod to the kind of airhead, breezy pop that the likes of\u00a0<\/span>Kate Nash<\/strong>\u00a0produce.<\/span><\/p>\n