Released 20th January via Secretly Canadian
5/10
Secretly Canadian’s latest full-length release comes from LA grunge-pop outfit and one-time Odd Future collaborators Cherry Glazerr, who I first encountered two years ago opening for The Growlers (definitely worth checking out). What hooked me was the energy of their performance as they bashed out stripped-back catchy indie-pop from their debut Haxel Princess, featuring a song about a grilled cheese sandwich aptly named… ‘Grilled Cheese’.
As well as singer-songwriter and guitarist Clementine Creevy’s jumps from high-pitched soft melodies to rabid, glaring screams at the sweaty faces, I was impressed by the band’s relaxed shared charisma. It surprised me then to hear of a full change of members in 2016 with only Creevy remaining, and wondered where they were headed next. Their new Apocalipstick follow-up LP brings many changes.
Enter classically-trained synth sister Sasami Ashworth adding a layer of atmospheric fuzz and disco melodies which never before existed in their sound, while new drummer Tabor Allen means they no longer use a human drum machine. Gone is the stripped-back, slowed-down garage sound of Creevy wistfully recording angsty bedside demos. Instead, Cherry Glazerr begin to sound (a little) more like grown-ups, moving past half-baked lyrics to exploring more cryptic and intriguing stuff.
The album has a strong start with the single ‘Told You I’d Be with the Guys’, which exhibits the full range of Creevy’s vocals as she screams “where are my ladieeeees?” before exploding into a thumping heavy chorus. The following song ‘Trash People’ is a comedic disco take on tour life (“we wear our underpants three days in a row”) with some great guitar work and pedal effects.
Unfortunately, they seem to lose pace with a succession of less inspiring filler tracks like ‘Humble Pro’ and ‘Only Kid on the Block’ with unimaginative instrumentals and unoriginal pop-rock riffs, similar to Bass Drum of Death’s more bland output with just as questionable lyrics. On many songs Ashworth’s keyboards barely manage to progress further than a neat accompaniment to the guitar, leaving me wondering whether firing half the band was worth it.
Thankfully, redeeming grungy ballad ‘Nuclear Bomb’ and the catchy and high power riffs of single ‘Nurse Ratched’ bite back to make an overall enjoyable listen. This feels like a step in the right direction for Cherry Glazerr, but with more originality they could rival the likes of Alvvays as masters of indie-pop.
