In the past few years, fans of thrashy, punk-indebted rock ’n’ roll have been blessed with a slew of fantastic bandleaders: Hop Along’s Frances Quinlan, Swearin’s Allison Crutchfield, Sheer Mag’s Tina Halladay. Blowout’s lead singer and bassist, Laken Wright, is next in line, employing a similar vocal style that moves from delicate and nuanced to powerful throat-shredding over feral, unhinged guitar rock with heavy pop undertones.
The Portland, Oregon, four-piece’s debut album is full of tempestuous punk that goes for the throat, distilling youthful anxiety and anger into vignettes that swoop in and out like tornadoes: quick, destructive, chaotic. Wright doesn’t command the same level of attention as her aforementioned peers just yet, maybe because her vocals are low in the mix. But she’s a devastating focal point nonetheless, raging against being the other woman on breakneck gut-punch Pound Pit and flipping the bird to a lover who abused her self-worth on the scorching Cents Cents Money Money.
Wright’s frustrations – geographical, sexual, emotional – are palpable throughout, as present as any instrument, which makes No Beer, No Dad a thrillingly cathartic ride. That may sound like a stressful listen, but there’s joy in the release of that emotion, making the songs incredibly fun, too. Take the rowdy guitar pop of Indiana, which simultaneously addresses the special love you have for the one person you can stand and the fear that it might not last.
Most of the tunes are quick-hitters, but closer If-Else-If hints at loftier ambitions, combining Blowout’s best qualities – catchy guitar licks, Wright’s whispers and wails, a gloriously explosive meltdown ending – and stretching them into the album’s longest and most dynamic track.
Top track: If-Else-If
