I used to love Metric. Old World Underground, Where Are You Now? and Live It Out had no bad songs on them. I bring Metric up because prior to 2012’s Synthetica (which I gave them a pass on because, even though most critics panned it, “Lost Kitten” was just too sweet to hate) the band was everything it should have ever been: a vaguely grungy indie-rock band that was unapologetic of the feminine influence Emily Haines brought in without sacrificing the fact that they actually made rock. (Think of a toned-down and much-less ‘90s version of Joan Jett & The Blackhearts.)
Fast-forward to 2017 and Los Angeles three-piece Cherry Glazerr’s Apocalipstick has picked up the baton and burst forth rather quietly onto the scene, managing to move further into rock than bands like Metric did, while still retaining their playfulness.
“Told You I’d Be with the Guys,” the album opener, gives us two essential things right off the bat: the first, lead singer Clementine Creevy’s uncompromising vocals, which fluctuate between a cigarette-in-the-back-of-a-smoky-room croon and a kicking-a-hole-in-the-wall yell so flawlessly you’d think they had the same emotional grounding, and a pop disposition which is grounded with just enough dissatisfaction to make the track perfectly bittersweet.
This is where Cherry Glazerr really shines. Whether it’s cranking out garage bangers that inexplicably turn towards shimmery, summer-sweet pop hooks (I’m looking at you, “Humble Pro”), or would-be slow-dance anthems like “Only Kid on the Block,” there’s a mixture of playfulness and unbridled energy that permeates every track on the record. It’s not overly aggressive, but enough so that we are jolted awake, and kept awake the whole ride through. And if there’s one track that showcases this quasi-punk aesthetic it’s the head-banging “Sip O’ Poison,” which is probably the most hectic track on the record. Everything about the track is in our faces: the drums, the bass-line, even the synth. It’s incredibly simple in terms of structure; there’s a tempo that gets set and kept throughout the track, and for the most part, there aren’t many breaks for individual spotlighting of elements, the band’s working as a unit at this point. A rollicking, sometimes-amorphous, but always-fun unit.
“Lucid Dreams” on the other hand, is straight pop. Sweet guitar riffs frame yearning vocals. This is where Cherry Glazerr is at their most Metric-like. That said, it’s not entirely rehashed material, as it comes off like a perfect song to soundtrack a bittersweet collection of sepia-toned photographs of someone’s teen years.
The fact that Cherry Glazerr is capable of putting together a fuzzy romp of a track like “Sip O’ Poison” as well as a more straightforward pop piece like “Lucid Dreams” makes the band much more appealing than they would be if they only stuck to one of the two options. It’s through this mechanism that Cherry Glazerr (just barely) escapes being labeled a one-trick pony.
And then we have “Nurse Ratched,” which first appeared on 2014’s Had Ten Dollaz EP.
Two things: “Had Ten Dollaz,” the first track on the EP that spawned “Nurse Ratched,” should have made Apocalipstick’s final cut. And second of all, having heard both versions of “Nurse Ratched,” the difference between a more DIY approach on the EP and a much more refined final product on this record is immediately palpable. Despite this, “Nurse Ratched” will easily win you over if you’re on the fence about Cherry Glazerr. It strikes a balance between satisfactory build-up and self-indulgence that the rest of the record either toes very finely, or just misses. The vocals on this song epitomize what’s so appealing about Cherry Glazerr as a band, and to top it off, the build-up that ends in a guitar solo in the last half of the track is wholly gratifying.
It’s fitting, then, that the album’s eponymous closer should end the record off in a manner as cacophonous as the apocalypse itself, all reverb and distortion.
So long as they don’t fall into complacency, expect great things from Cherry Glazerr.
