EP HIGHLIGHTS – “5/4” & “I Killed Uncle Ben”
Those who haven’t heard of Alien Chicks by now are sorely missing out. The Brixton trio have been consistently dropping singles and EPs since at least 2022, with funky frenetic energy and a sonic nebula of art punk, jazz, math rock, rap and a whole lotta noise.
Released on 2nd October through Alcopop! Records was latest EP: Toys Taken at Birth. To say the least, it’s an avant-garde take on inequality and the modern-day struggle against political systems and authority. It’s also available on CD and there’s even a glow-in-the-dark vinyl edition (how cool) that’s limited to five hundred copies. Its B-side features four tracks from their Live at the Windmill EP, recorded earlier this year – including key favourites like “Steve Buscemi” and “Candlestick Maker”.
The record follows the colourful, surrealist themes of its album artwork. It’s exactly the kind of weird scenic imagery that could spring to mind in my own head, so it was exciting to hear that these new tracks were equally as off-the-wall.
Plunging headfirst into opener “Madmen”, it’s not even the intense bassline that immediately grabs your attention – but, instead, an off-kilter, start-stop buzzing sound created with brass (by Ben Vize). It keeps things unusual and uneasy, like you’re trying to pinpoint a skittish insect whilst the culprit zooms around a small room and terrorises everyone in it. Lead vocals come from guitarist Josef Lindsay – who quickly reveals his love for rappers like Ocean Wisdom, with his lightning-fast, spoken word. The whole rap-rock thing has had a bit of a popularity surge lately, being explored by a number of bands – but none that manage to make this element fit quite so well within their unorthodox style.
The uninitiated will quickly learn that, for a trio, Alien Chicks can make one hell of a noise. We’re talking loud choruses of heavy walls of fuzz, and exasperated shouts of key line: “Democracy doesn’t exist anymore”. The bridge sees a de-escalation into an ominously more subdued break, with stilted, chant-like lyric delivery and subtle, splintering guitar effects underneath the main riff, as it gradually makes its return. Lindsay’s anti-establishment cries give the track a commanding, potent finish.
“Now I’m Big” gets a deliciously disjointed, jaunty jazz-rock start, with some seriously offkey guitar accents and Stefan Parker-Steele’s plucky, weaving bass – before picking up tempo. Street-level, raucous vocal expression devolves into a swinging, detuned guitar wrangle of epic proportion, and, once again, you’re reminded of just how versatile these guys are. It feels as if they push themselves further (and in different directions) with every passing track, admitting: “We follow the idea and stop worrying about where it ends up on a genre map”.
They’re the sort of group that usually have a rough outline of beginnings and endings – but the midsection is anyone’s guess. It’s a similarly chaotic concept to that of fellow experimental art-punkers (and distantly related cousins) Maruja. Surrendering themselves to these free-for-alls allow ambiguity to tailspin into the fantastically unpredictable. Usually, the space ends up being filled by something completely unnatural to the song’s leading rhythm. The result? Just look at any song from this EP for your answer.
Alien Chicks aren’t just mindless noise rock, though; they pick their moments and know when to soften one element to spotlight another. In this case: squealing and honking brass, discordant keys (also courtesy of Vize) and rhythmic twang. The band revealed: “With three people, everything you play is exposed, so each part has to earn its place”.
Taking the name from its lopsided 5/4 time signature, you can already predict that “5/4” is about to unveil a generous helping of math rock. It’s a huge mix-up of pacing and styles, unleashing winding, skewed guitar and shouts that eventually melt into copious amounts of distortion. The song’s midsection sees a spoken-word, blurred frenzy of a repeated line that, even now, after many listens and lots of research, cannot be deciphered. On the other hand, later, there’s a decidedly more familiar mid-track detour into “If You Go Down to the Woods Today”, at its usual plodding tempo – with Martha Daniels’ free-jazz drum shuffles and steady bass. It’s beautifully random, while also unnerving and increasingly erratic.
Moving in a direction not yet covered here, “I Killed Uncle Ben” can be characterised by melodic vocal beginnings and its 90s indie feel. The latter is also capable of mastering sinister tones – though these disappear into brighter main hooks, followed by lots of warbling, folk-style backing vocals, along the lines of Tom Odell. Sprinkles of guitar picking, drum fills, expressive lyrics and tinny output pop up at designated, stilted intervals. This is the closest we get to an Alien Chicks ballad. Repetition of “I am enough” reinforces an emotionally climatic point, in resistance against the system.
Last up: a predictably bizarre choice of cover, in the shape of Missy Elliott’s 2001 hip-hop classic “Get Ur Freak On” (with the track receiving some even more bizarre promo support from Jeremy “Jezza” Corbyn). At first, I wasn’t convinced this cover was the right choice, but it quickly grows on you and is a fun addition. Most will already be familiar with the song, but you’re still none the wiser as to what this band are going to do with it. Keeping the original bhangra-borrowed style embedded in their cover: hip-hop beats are exchanged for punky, energetic drums and overdriven guitar. Throughout, vocals transmit in megaphone format. The original “Is that your chick?” line is, of course, aptly replaced with “Alien Chicks”. Seamlessly transforming into carnage, interludes of rap improv prove themselves to work surprisingly well, once again. That said, it’s the choruses that have the best effect, with a glorious cluster of noise ensuing as Lindsay goes nuts on vocals.
Alien Chicks’ main goal with this record, through an exciting whirlwind of colourful zest, was to convey intense frustration at wealth disparity, mass media manipulation, and the fact that everything seems to now have a hidden agenda. It doesn’t take much looking around you to see that they’re right. With Toys Taken at Birth, there’s a claustrophobic, pressure-cooker feeling that builds, before ultimately exploding at the last song. Social and political lyrics are often observational, but Alien Chicks aren’t simply standing round a fire – they’re centred right at the heart of it. On this EP, they become part of the chaos itself – and, honestly, we wouldn’t have it any other way.
