Colorado-based feminist punk band Cheap Perfume are known for their snotty sneers and lyrics bordering on current affairs (or current situations may be the more proper term). Sizzling with garage band energy, one can feel the thumping bass and slick beer-soaked floor of a DIY punk show when listening to Cheap Perfume. It’s a different energy from the clean pop-punk sound of recent alternative trends. The band’s newest release, Don’t Care. Didn’t Ask rolls with that anarchistic roar and bratty spunk we can expect from them.
“Probably It’s Capitalism,” opens the album with a solid message that doesn’t get any clearer. Working class fury presides with the grime and fast-paced rhythm. The eat-the-rich chant in the end furthers the intensity of this violent banger.
“Start Shit,” rages as a feminist anthem. The lyrics “this is my favorite time to start shit, because I’m such a dumb bitch, this is my favorite time to start shit, if I’m so crazy I’ll act like it,” spew venom while the rumbling of drums kick off a dangerous feeling of a fight about to start. “Start Shit” is not only a bold middle finger to misogynistic behavior but a rabid blast of adrenaline.
Slam garage punk thrills with “Dead If I Do.” Low bass riffs define this heart-pounding bop and one could feel the piercing reverb and flying spit of a live basement gig. Like the previous song, “Dead If I Do,” mirrors the expectations of women in a patriarchal society and it takes those expectations and throws it back in pure punk rock style.
It’s not American punk without a good ol small town diss. “Anytown USA,” breathes with more than just bratty genre cliches; it unleashes raw attitude that only stems from a life of restlessness when taught to stick to the status quo. Over in under two minutes, it’s speedy and to the point, oozing with Ramones style.
“Woke Mind Virus,” takes the tempo down only half a notch. Steady drumming fills the space between the quick-witted lines. “Wealthy billionaires got me feeling kinda violent,” is sung in that squeaky-pitched cheeky tone, playful despite the seriousness of the song. “Woke Mind Virus,” thrives with disgust for the oligarch while simultaneously encouraging community among neighbors.
Less venom but just as much chaos, “Okay Party,” is fueled with the energy of life on tour. It’s an honest testament to life on the road as a touring band, sharing the frustrations and excitement where every night is a party and a countdown to the end all the same. Without changing tone or attitude, the lyrics spew out the inner monologue in a rambling soliloquy. Choppy guitar adds friction, and the pressure builds with fiery anticipation.
“Blood On Your Hands,” follows with thick bass riffs. Sinewy vocal harmonies collide with sharp judgment towards large corporations and the big shots making large business deals at the expense of the people. And yet the sound is so captivating between the pumping beat and muted chords, and the contagious chorus chant.
Dirty nineties street punk is the beat for “Desert.” Musically the opening sequence of notes over a distant drumming sound like something from an old school Green Day record. “Desert” stands out on Don’t Care. Didn’t Ask, for several reasons the first being that it strays from the political leanings and touches a personal nerve with romance gone awry. The rotten ending of the story (of leaving a relationship for someone already taken) is met with a badass rhythm that throttles the heartache into something you can dance to.
“Down to Riot,” escalates the rhythm with strong reverb waiting to fire off. It’s as simple as the title suggests, a call-to-arms for the working class to strike. As they rave about bringing back the guillotine through crackly bullhorn chants that become interspersed with cleaner vocals, the energy and static are cranked all the way up. In the finale, the rhythm becomes a melting pot of all the sounds meshing in a riotous chorus. The harmonies between vocalists Stephanie Byrne and Jane No steer the song with power, fury, and rebellion.
Don’t Care. Didn’t Ask is more than just a garage punk album but a vital statement against inhumane policies and a clear message of working-class solidarity and mutual aid. Simple and to the point, there’s no time for prose or poetic metaphors. Cheap Perfume say it how it is.
I’m Music Magazine Writer Alice Kearney
