Everybody’s Gotta Have A Gang

but None Are Half As Tough As Sailor Poon

By Jay Armstrong

 

Sailor Poon have been pissing off self-righteous entitled mediocre boys in bands since day one. Things are not about to change. ‘Cause if they thought it felt bad being outplayed every damn night by a group lacking qualms with looking them square in the eye and fuming off “wipe my ass with your studded leather jacket.” Wait til the word starts rumbling how they just put out an album so good even the awe faced crowd they keep leashed at their feet is about to feel full rush excitement in being the pleasant sort of surprised. No doubt the question burning on no one’s mind over the last two years—will Sailor Poon’s records catch up with how their presence has grown on stage—can now be answered with a definitive YES.

In many ways the title Sailor Poon’s First Album is as truthful as it is misleading. Ask them about it if you care so much. Is it off the cuff? Is it a dig about their evolution as a band? Who fucking knows and who fucking cares. Check back in a few days; maybe I will update this article to include those sort of cutting edge journalistic insights along with their favorite ice cream flavors or what gear they play on.  If anything matters—and I have my doubts—it is only about how notable the record itself is. Hypothesizing on depth of meaning has no place in rock n roll. The only thing that matters is the experience and this one is immediate, upfront, hitting perfectly the notes of reminder the band everyone fell in love with some two decades ago (that’s how long looking back across these past five years feels anyway) still retains the perfect balance from when their gang first took over these streets; facetious cynicism crafted with acute skill.

After watching them completely own SXSW last year with confidence merely alluded to before; this is the record putting on set after set of in your face good time dominance hinted might be coming over the horizon. I for one had my doubts. Pooney Tunes seemed to bask in the DIY aesthetic of low-end recordings done in the flash of minimal takes for energetic posterity. They have grown beyond it. Their records now have as well.  Albeit it tougher, more closed fist, less forty-five-degree head tilted greaser disaffection; nothing has been lost along the way. This album rides start to finish. Personal favorites so far are “Be Nice” or “Too Many Boyfriends” but to skip ahead instead of going straight through would be a mistake.  If you get to the end of about track three, “Cry For No Reason,” and find yourself still sniffing that peach-fuzzed upper lip pretending your Fender Jaguar and kind of listening to Jay Reatard for a couple of weeks somehow makes you a gatekeeper of cool, then maybe you should stick with listening to Christian Bland records on repeat while the rest of us decent folks chew through something legit.

Sailor Poon’s First Album ships out in August on vinyl. In the meantime they have a limited run of cassettes and a tight poster coming off the press at Fine Southern Gentleman. All can be found through the Bandcamp link below.

Sailor Poon – Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook