(“get out of town, bitch”).
I often write my album reviews on Saturdays (in the late afternoon), with the intention to put them in my Mondays “Delusions” articles. But sometimes, sometimes, I come across an album that inspires me to write something longer. That’s the case with Casino, Mini Skirt’s first album. It’s a real Australian monster.
The first slap comes with “Give It Up“. For the first time, Mini Skirt delivers some very high-intensity punk rock by slowing down the voice. It’s the 2020s formula that works so well, the orchestration keeps going up a tone, it’s subtle, but we end up realizing that his ‘I’m A Man‘ is substantiated by three guitars. It then directs the album toward something akin to slacker music, a bit like Tony Dork. And if “Censorship” logically reminds me of Ian Svenonius’ book Censorship Now!, it all really starts with “Pretty“.
This song and the ones that follow are together one of the most amazing combos of 2020. Apart from the excellent melodies, it’s Mini Skirt’s dangerousness that convinces me of its music. Everything goes: physicality, sex, envy, aggressiveness. Mini Skirt turns its album into a cynical and rebellious work of art. Please fuck off if you think too highly of yourself because here, your body will turn back into the object it has always been.
On “Farkunell“, Mini Skirt gently puts his hand on his dick (I quote) and delivers an almost post-skate garage punk. Then comes “Tissue“, a real masterpiece in which Mini Skirt drips all over the world. “The world is my tissue” will remain as the most iconic sentence of 2020. And on “Animals“, it reminds us of the obvious. Let’s stop preventing all kinds of objectification. We cut ourselves off from our instincts.
Shocking? I’m seriously fed up with this “cancel culture” crap, but ok, I will play your little game, I will cancel you. Me and my mates, Mini Skirt, Stiff Richards, Tony Dork, and this scene that’s banging hard, we’re going to come and get you, we’re going to find out how woke you are. You’re shocked and offended by everything. That’s great. That’s great! While Mini Skirt will drool on you, Tony Dork will hit you on the head with his boxing gloves, and Amyl and the Sniffers will take an ultra-sexualized posture, something far too obvious to escape Amy Taylor’s boobies. The rednecks will come to remind you that you may want to be free and not to follow government orders. And I’ll tell you unhealthy, insulting, and pornographic things. If you’ve ever had the urge to “cancel” anyone, get out of here. Rock is not a safe space, it has never been, and it never will be. Okay, I need a vacation.
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