Bad Static strut into the room with a ferocious feral energy and daggered heels, just daring you to wolf whistle. ‘Peach‘ subverts the male gaze with a bloodied and bare breasted power that is awe inspiring in its brutal beauty.
Vocally it has so much vitriol and venom, every line is delivered with the righteous fury the track deserves. This is punk at its absolute best, it’s raw, it’s honest, and it hits like a fucking freight train. From the guttural moaning at the start of the track to the vocal chord shredding growl of the chorus it’s all power, and it’s all jaw droppingly evocative.
Lyrically the song takes us on a stroll through the mean streets of Brooklyn, painting a vivid picture of the stress of daring to attract the attention of the oafish men bordering these public spaces, pinballing from one catcall to the next. At its heart it is piercing through the fragile skin of the toxic masculinity on display and providing a rally call of it’s own to shutting this behaviour down.
In terms of the musicality on display it has that old school fuzzy punk sound with guitars that audibly hum from the stress of the raw energy being channelled through them. The drums are crisp and the gunshot beat cuts through to puncture the ear drum.
In places where the track is allowed to build you are treated to an insight as to what this band has the power to provide both live and in terms of scope of sound. In the final minute of the song the track reaches a winding crescendo as the vocals and emotion are dialled up and echoed in the plea of the line “thrill me, kill me, I’m begging please,” as it repeats. It is as awesome as it is painfully harrowing knowing the levels of crimes against women in the city.
This is punk that is unapologetically political, poetic in its raw lyricism, with sharply honed claws intent to maim.
Words by Matt Miles
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