ROCKAGANDA: Patchwork Grace profile

by Lucie

ROCKAGANDA – Patchwork Grace

We’re rather fond of PWG here at OI. If you were awesome enough to buy our album, you’ll already know the ansgty choon ‘Nancy’, and if you’re anything like us then that little taster will have simply served to make you hungry for more. Patchwork Grace are a gaggle of young, sexy, rebellious, loud, rockers who obviously live for their energetic music and want to shove it in everyone’s faces – qualities which can only be encouraged!

On the 10th of September their debut album, ‘Milk Teeth’, will be available on BUT! Records (the hideous distorted china baby on the cover will draw you in, I promise), and there is absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t buy it. The band span genres, sounding to an uneducated person like a thrashy girlband; to all others like trashy glam punk rockers, handfuls of glitter shot blindly through the music, flying off the cymbals. Sound tempting, no? Come on, you must be convinced… Okay, how about this: PWG’s philosophy is the very opposite of the minimalist trend, it’s about noise and lots of it. Loud, clashing and passionate sound, layers and layers of it. This isn’t just one humble music lover telling you all this, it’s the knowledge of the thousands of members of 20+ international PWG fans MySpace’s, of all the underground and alternative rock ‘zines worth their salt. And most of all, of the band – they LOVE what they do! And rightly so. Confidence and a jerky kind of poise oozes from the album, and from their live set.

But less of this rambling, let’s talk about the album, children. Sterility does not exist in this 13 track record composed entirely of fuck yes!. Tori Trash, Crip, Joey Strange and Danny Gunn spent their recording time giving their all and holding nowt back. Vocalist Tori is just sex; it pours out of her mouth and you can see it in her strutting. The boys behind her hang a heavy, crashing backdrop for lyrics that don’t have to be on-key or make sense. After all, the conventional just isn’t important. ‘Lovely’ and ‘Soap’ are bashed out with no precision or care except for making them sound as heavy and as rock as possible. ‘Zebra’ is something nearing anthemic – you can’t not sing along to the chorus: “I don’t want to be a zebra”. Embedded in this record is a jumpy version of The Cure’s ‘Lovecats’, a song that I didn’t think could be improved! PWG serve forth their own take on it, heavier, with lots of crashing cymbals and growly unmeasured guitar licks. ‘Kharrrrarrah’ and ‘Shminonio’ follow in the heavy punk-grunge vein, while ‘Little Me’ and ‘Nancy’ (a new and improved version of the one on the OI album) slowing things down, more emotional but brimming with anguish which keeps the pure rawk running through the album. ‘Estella’ has a similar chanty theme to ‘Zebra’, led by Tori’s girlysexy voice and sounding like a grunge singalong. The final four songs, ‘Meister Clinc’, ‘Choc. Milk + Cocaine’, ‘Pink Aniseed’ and ‘Doctor’s Note’ are the same and yet totally different to the nine songs that came before it. All thirteen tracks have an intrinsic similarity that’s indecipherable, but in true punk style they’re all independent from each other. PWG don’t believe in conformity, that’s for losers. There’s no crescendo to the album, it’s one long climax!
Faultless is one word to describe this band. A new brand of rockstars is a phrase that springs to mind. You’ve got to hear this group – go on, be engaged. Get addicted. Remember where you heard about them. Get to HMV on the 10th.

Patchwork Grace, in your own sensual words, I fucking adore you.

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