Mannequin Pussy: I Got Heaven

Why is it that I recall Mannequin Pussy not being so… punk? I mean I know they swung between indie rock and some more scream-y stuff, but there are some tunes on this album that are just full-out ripping hardcore. Granted, the album starts with exactly what I expected in “I Got Heaven,” a latter-day Hole track that mixes the energy well. And then you get “Loud Bark,” which also builds like an orgasm, but never tips over into out-and-out berserker. Check and check. Oh, did I mention the first track has something about Jesus eating her “fucking snatch.” Well, we’ll ignore that for now. It’s a lovely song, but not great with the kids in the car (which I found out the hard way).

And then track three, “Nothing Like,” is practically pleasant. Floating along on a cloud of indie fuzz. What the hell? I swear on first listen of this album that my ear drums were begging for mercy. Did I imagine things? Was this a dream? A delusion? Track four, that must be it! Nope, “I Don’t Know You,” is practically a lullaby. Granted, with an undergirding of ethereal guitar gain. But also not at all punk. What am I doing here? This is a super-chill record. Yup, next track, “Sometimes,” is practically power pop. It’s a bop. Let’s try track…. Oh fuck, there it is. Track six and we’ve officially arrived at the Jason Loewenstein portion of the Sebadoh album. I knew I hadn’t lost my mind.

So why, in an album that, up until track 5, could be the next Celebrity Skin do we all of a sudden go all in on a hardcore tune called “Ok? Ok? Ok? Ok?” The writers of the song are the same as the others. So I must be missing something. The lyrics are pretty dumb. Maybe it’s a goof. The way Reggie and the Full Effect goofed around with hardcore? It’s bizarre. Because the next track, “Softly,” goes right back to the formula. Soft loud soft throw-backy indie rock. Just like we ordered. 

Ugh and here we go again with the next two tracks, “Of Her” and “Aching.” Did they run out of material? Is someone in the band pissed they’re a band called Mannequin Pussy and they don’t play balls-out craziness? It’s not melodic. It’s not great. Jarring. That’s how I would describe it. But then the final, tenth track is the chillest of them all, with even some blissful da-da-da-das. Which makes me want to ask lead singer, Missy Dabice, to blink twice if she was being held captive during the recording of the three weirdo tracks on the album. Which is incredibly sexist of me. Maybe she was the one pushing the edgier stuff. Though three of the four members of the band are women. So, not sexist. Just confused. 

And this, friends, is why I only comment about music on a dumb website instead of play and record it. Well, I play it, but only in the confines of my house. Alone. With no other people. Because that’s how god intended it for me. Point is, I’m sure this band has a reason for their hardcore forays that are neither meant to be ironic nor meant as some sort of statement other than they like to play fast and loud. And relatively melody-less. Whatever the case, I do enjoy the vast majority of this record, but maybe I’ll make a playlist version of it that just cuts out the three outliers and sticks to the other tracks, which are pretty decent examples of rock n roll in the 2024s.