About six years ago I greened out.. hard. I was already wasted before I smoked the shit out of a giant spliff in the crappy hotel room my mates and I were staying in for the Melbourne Big Day Out. The next thing I know, I'm sprawled on the floor, terrified that the carpet was swallowing me whole. Four hours later I woke up on the toilet floor with a sticky coating of vomit on my chin, seven slurpee straws sticking out of my ass crack like mini flagpoles, and everything that wasn't nailed down in the hotel room balanced on my back.
Since then, I've refrained from heavy use of marrow-ojay-warna. But after listening to Street Chant's new album Means, I found myself sucking on an orange juice bottle bong like I was hiding behind a bike shed in Wagga in 1999.
This is the kind of music designed for being young and getting fucked up. It's messy, it's raw, it's full of mistakes, its production is shit, but its energy and confidence is off the chart. For some reason NZ bands just know how to make who-gives-a-fuck-garage-punk-pop like no one else. Maybe cause there's nothing else to do in New Zealand except surf earth quakes. (Too soon?)
Anyways, Street Chant rule hard and Means has some cracking good songs. Obvious stand out is Stoned Again. It's fantspastic opening guitar riff is more than enough hook for the whole song. Other sure-fire-hits that had me moshing at the imaginary house party at my parents house I throw every time I put Means on are You Do The Maths, the ol' skool-Bloc Party-esque (key words being: ol' skool) Less Chat, More Sewing, and album opener/cunt kicker Fatigues.
In the end though, I think the thing that I love the most about this record is that it's been kept so simple and so dirty. They could've easily scoured it with distortion and gone for a Wavves/Times New Viking pastiche, but instead they kept it clean and insured that not only their few weaknesses were leaked out, but their many strengths burned bright.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go cut off some more garden hose.
Disclaimer: If my mum reads this, the opening anecdote to this article is in no way true.
Originally published in Polaroids of Androids
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