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On first glance, the name Perfect Pussy seems incredibly inapt for the band who created the raucous Say Yes to Love. Perfection seems to clash with the bands noisy and messy aesthetic; while today’s colloquial definition of pussy completely misrepresents the band. The name could be an appropriation of the word pussy to that of a feminist agenda (although that’s just conjecture, I don’t want to shoehorn the band into any ideology that I cannot confirm to be theirs.) When placing these two words together it seems more likely to me that the name is a joke exemplified by singer’s, Meredith Graves, lyrics on ‘Dig’: If I’m anything less than perfection/ Well shit nobody told me!’

Like all great jokes, the humour comes from a striking element of truth. Say Yes to Love sounds like a title that you’d think would be more fitting for the next Taylor Swift album but context solves everything. When the title appears in the form of lyrics on the album’s centrepiece ‘Interference Fits’, everything falls into place. ‘SINCE WHEN DID WE SAY YES TO LOVE?’ questions Graves (somewhat loudly), and we see that through the noise and jokes this album is asking some serious questions about growing up. This is the band’s greatest strength lyrically, tackling the problems of staying true to the punk ideals whilst everyone around you seems to be “maturing” and reneging on those ideals that seem so much more attractive to people before they marry and have children.

Graves’ lyrics however, are far too frequently indecipherable, swallowed up by the layers of noise that blanket the entire album. When the odd line frequently pops out like the sounds of cars zooming past pedestrians and it is an amazing experience that encourages the listener to return and listen closer next time. Except cars don’t usually scream ‘AND I WANT TO FUCK MYSELF/ AND I WANT TO EAT MYSELF,’ at me, but hey that’s just me.

Like many modern punk efforts, Say Yes to Love is a blink and you’ll miss it experience, clocking in at around twenty three minutes. Despite being shorter than half an hour, the album makes up in spades for that with the amount of pure energy it, and specifically Graves, brings to the band up until the disjointed last song and a half. At this point on the second half of ‘Advance Upon the Real’ and ‘VII’, Perfect Pussy decide to give up on the whole punk part of their band entirely, and these noise only tracks lose all the momentum the album had built up to that point. They aren’t bad noise tracks, just completely out of place and character on this short but incredibly sweet album that sadly doesn’t get the send-off it deserves.

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