Reviews
Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons – Ain’t No Pussy – Album Review

In these days of hundreds of pretentious PR emails reaching our inbox, it’s always refreshing when the regular flyers – those bands that constantly appear time and time again at Cat on the Wall – drop a new record. The latest to do so is none other than our favourites, the fiery and dangerously charismatic Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons.



After another incredibly successful  year of touring Рlaunching during an incredible two-day stint at Whitby Goth Weekend Рthe trio have released a furious, roaring beast of a disc Рsetting it free from its chains like a colossal wild beast, hellbent on destroying that horrible middle class milieu that has infected so much of the independent scene like a gangrenous, infectious fungus built of pasta, pita breads and flannel shirts.

Ain’t No Pussy is another delightfully rebellious notch on the thick, studded leather belt that is the band’s incendiary career – and, true to form, their track record of steadily getting darker and dirtier continues with no end in sight. Every time the band pop up with a new CD, the resulting product is proof positive of their constant evolution into something better than stood before it; they’ve gotten harder, louder, tighter and more focused – a leaner, more rebellious machine that steamrolls down anything that opposes it and wrenches even the most cynical audience member onto their side.

Perhaps one of the strongest features of the record is that almost every track in the run time has already had plays in several tours to be preened and thoroughly perfected; practically turning the album into a super-sonic tour diary for band’s last couple of years. The result is a series of firm favourites captured beautifully onto plastic. I shan’t go through every track (as much as I’d like to) – so here’s some top picks.

 

The eponymous Ain’t No Pussy creates an anthem the moment it steps out of the gates and ushers in the next ‘phase’ of the Dirty Johnsons outfit with impeccable style, balancing the old and the new while transitioning the audience flawlessly (and kicking back every wanker that can’t get the name right).

Suneal harks back to that spaghetti Western feel that popped up occasionally in the band’s debut, complete with kazoo and creates a wonderfully cartoony, humorous little tale of the eponymous real cool cat; a pure piece of classical Americana with a cheeky tongue-in-cheek attitude.

Pretty Good For a Girl messes with the classic theme of feminism and crams it into a leatherclad, throbbing soiree, the last minute entering into a rare relatively ‘quiet’ moment that feels fit for the rock ‘n’ roll hall of fame – instrumentals given a moment to shine and remind you that the band has far more musical pedigree that its personality alone.

Sylvia is a personal favourite – a furious, rumbling safety valve of anger that bubbles over and plunges the HMRC into a cataclysmic landscape of helmeted, all-controlling tyrants with excessive levels of stationary.

I’ve sung Midnight Motorway‘s praises already in our Goth Weekend review – but the track is an ideal closer, expertly building on Pussycat’s raw talents for ‘visual songwriting’ with a ridiculous catchy hook and a chaotic, demonic cat-scratch guitar that swings, rattles and roars like the oh so many junctions in the UK’s asphalt bloodstream.

 

The general femme fatale atmosphere remains throughout, and the occasional hark to gothic horror and B-movie nonsense slots seamlessly into the band’s hip swinging, lip-licking and often utterly sexy rhythms that owe a little bit to every decade of rock and roll’s past; while updating and contemporising every trope into something new, original and fearlessly confrontational.

Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons lack only subtlety – something that can be very hard to achieve with a tail (ask any bloke. See? Comedy gold. Wasted on this ‘zine.) and that’s to their benefit – this theatrical, careening record has all of the power and pent up energy of a pressure cooker with tiger stripes, and wastes no time in making you well aware of:

 

A) Who Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons are.

B) What Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons do.

And C) What happens if you get in their way.

 

It’s the perfect record to kick off a love affair, and makes us enamoured with everything the band do all over again. Filfy Antz, Dirty Jake and Pussycat are a trio to be reckoned with – and we’ve not seen anybody top what they do yet.

 


If you haven’t yet taken our continuous recommendations (you stubborn fucker!), get your paws onto this record. You won’t regret it!


www.TheDirtyJohnsons.com
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About the author

Compulsive hat wearer, eccentric, fan of all things audio-visual, part time Goth, historian, and railway enthusiast, Jordan is the closest you can get to everybody's weird uncle. Except he's less than 60 years old.

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