Perfect Pussy, Whatever Brains, Davidians | Kings | Clubs & Concerts | Indy Week

Clubs & Concerts

Perfect Pussy, Whatever Brains, Davidians

When: Thu., Jan. 9, 9 p.m. 2014

If you saw the band name Perfect Pussy stripped of context, perhaps printed on a poster stapled to a utility pole or included in a laundry list of shows occurring in a given city, you might dismiss the handle as mere cock-rock provocation or some destined-to-insult frat house gimmickry. But the Syracuse quartet Perfect Pussy are neither a joke nor a jab; they are, instead, a savage and heartfelt post-punk band, where ripped-from-life, screamed-with-purpose confessionals fight claustrophobic guitars and confrontational drums for ever-shrinking space. As rendered on their thrilling debut demo tape, the four-track rupture I have lost all desire for feeling, that sound clash catapulted the band toward Indie Rock Internet Fame last year. They're currently preparing a full-length debut for the label Captured Tracks.

The music is a white-hot flame of feeling, meant to match the unabashed shouts of Meredith Graves, the band's founder and frontwoman. When Graves sings with the band, her words are mostly unintelligible, strangled into a pitchy garble by the amps around her. But that is a feint and the paradox that makes Perfect Pussy so captivating. Graves' words are rich, thoughtful attempts to find courage and positivity when the earth's rotation seems only to unravel such aspirations. Graves screams of her ex-boyfriend's choice to sleep with her best friend, but she concludes, rather forcefully, "I am full of light. I am filled with joy. I am full of peace. I had this dream that I forgave my enemies." Maybe you can't hear it, but ever can you feel it, buried there in the squall. —Grayson Haver Currin

Price: $8

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