Straight outta Liege, Belgium comes the self-described “glittershitstorm” punk/noise-rock band Cocaine Piss. The act’s debut album, The Dancer, which was recorded and mixed by the renowned Steve Albini in Chicago, dropped at the end of September via Hypertension Records.
The members of Cocaine Piss don’t muck about on The Dancer, hitting the ground at an accelerated pace with 14 short, attacking blasts of in-yer-face, scuzzily aggressive, abrasively gritty, but also exuberantly shouty and frenetically energized tunes, with only one lasting over the 2-minute mark.
To get a handle on the overall sound, think X-Ray Spex, Bis, and a(ny) hardcore band blended at hyper-speed – all choppy rhythms, sharp, lunging guitars, low-end bass trawl, and spiky, speedy drum strikes topped off with female, exclaimed vocals that are a blazingly bright cross between Poly Styrene and Miranda Rin of the aforementioned named bands.
Lyrics on the whole are rudimentary and blunt, but meaningful (topics include gender equality, self-acceptance, and the transiency of life) and effective in the primal instrumental format. On “Cosmic Bullshit”, the lead shouter can hardly be heard above the sonic din, and the only completely discernible phrase that repeatedly surfaces is the song title. Her English enunciation is also a bit garbled, making her sound like an enraged Bjork – endearing or exasperating, you decide. Luckily, the lyrics can be found at the band’s Bandcamp site and they provide more depth to the hopped-up aural assaults, like, “I want to believe… / I want to be human and pure.” from “Cosmic Bullshit”.
The title track is at first a menacing, slow-stagger rife with raw lyrics and hyper vocals, but it suddenly switches to a super-hardcore whirl of guitar line flagellation and rapid-fire drum beats. Screeching guitar lines and a rampaging drum beat race through “Shiny Pants” before intensifying even more into a barrage of skeining guitar lines and pummeled drums.
Despite the sketchy lyrics, “Elegance” hits hard with lines like, “Now you look like a robot / Hide your feelings and be polite.” The singer emotes in a chipper (but still usually shouty) tone while sporadically backed by male howls. Grating guitar lines tangle with wild drumming, amalgamating into deranged, surf-rock-like agitation. “Happiness”, a cranked-up ode to self-pleasure, is brimming with grimy guitar buzz, stop ‘n’ go drum-work, and the lead singer’s loud/quiet/loud vocals where she declares, “I’ll make my own joy.”
The Dancer is to be taken by ear in small doses for a cathartic effect. Do not combine with too much Coke (or similar product), piss, or glitter. Scratch that – you can never have too much glitter. An aural overdose may cause spasmodic, dance-like seizures, restless jitters, air punches, profane vocal outbursts, and unrestrained emotions. Use only as directed.