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 Everett True

Song of the day – 651: Woolf

Song of the day – 651: Woolf
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Fuck me for a mewling Abbott-loving pseudo-twisted psycho-retro anonymous cowardly fucking Internet troll-fucktard if I ain’t forgot to bring to your damn attention these ladies way before now.

This album came out – when? More days ago then I have memories. And you know what? 13.4 minutes. That’s all it’d have taken me to listen to the entirety of fiery angular brittle and brutal bricolage London art-punk Riot Grrrl quartet Woolf’s debut album The Right Way To Play from – when? 200 and fucken’ ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ you dozy cosy – and if you remove the thudding menace and sparky attrition of ‘Witch’ from the equation (although why the fuck you’d want to do that when it snarls and bristles like a fertile cassowary) then we’re talking nine songs in – what? FUCK OFF WITH YOUR SNIDE ASSERTIONS – 10.1 minutes. Music ain’t a race, of course – but there’s too much to say, too much grabbing the attention for these ladies to linger any longer then needed. Already the album’s finished twice as I fumble for the right words and beat myself solidly round the head with an errant collection of the works of Susan Hill. (No, don’t ask.) This is the one I’m loving more than loving itself. Right now, for sure.

Oh fuck, it’s finished already.

It’s the scream that does it: halfway between STP and Yoko Ono. No, not Stone Temple Plaigarists, you infernal dickweed.

This STP.

As they put it, “A pungent spit in the face of musical normality”.

No wait. How the FUCK is any of this a put-down? This is Wire first album great.

Clocking out at slightly over 13 minutes their debut is everything but Right. Bouncing between dissonant punk, inept proto hardcore and psycho noise-pop whilst dealing with issues as relevant as having fun, forest witchery and queer love – all under the tag of primitive musik made by women..

Yeah baby. Yeah.

No, wait. The scratchy, determined, playful ‘Fishing With Lolita’ is even better. Yeah? FUCK YOU!

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This is the email I just sent them.

Ladies. I stand ashamed!

Abject apologies for not writing about yr totally righteous blasts of feral punk frenzy on Collapse Board before now. I hope that at some time in the future you will find it in your hearts to forgive me… or at least to swallow back some of the bile that naturally forms in your throats whenever my name is mentioned.

Yours, as ever.

Everett False

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