The Grunge Rock revival starts here - the charmingly named Pissed Jeans take the classic Grunge sound of early Nirvana, rev it up with a little Motorhead speed/thrash metal and add a dash of dark humour to come up with the heady brew that is Honeys, the band's fourth studio album.
Released on Sub Pop, the label synonymous with the Grunge explosion in the early nineties, Honeys trades on pummelling riffs, adult male anxiety and a direct, no nonsense approach that bludgeons you into submission with its raw, visceral power. Singer Matt Korvette sounds more than a little unhinged, the kind of person who dines on kittens and small children, but beneath the belligerent howl and moshpit riffing, there is an intelligent lyricist at work. Korvette laces his words with the blackest humour; his distrust of everyone and everything from the local doctor ('Health Plan') to the heavily processed foods we consume ('Cafeteria Food') screams of a man living on the edge, at odds with modern living and its associated stresses and strains.
But if you are not too bothered or concerned with Korvette's jaundiced view of the world, Honeys can be enjoyed on a purely primal level - the testosterone laden 'Bathroom Laughter' gets the album off to a flying start while 'Romanticize Me' and 'Vain in Costume' will appeal to aficionados of the early Sub Pop sound of Nirvana and Mudhoney. Korvette growls and menaces his way through the swamp blues grime of 'You're Different (In Person)', sounding about as evil as one can get without tipping over into serial killer territory. 'Cathouse' is another amped up highlight, the band scorching their way through two and a half minutes of controlled, distorted mayhem. The sequencing of track two 'Chain Worker' strikes an early bum note - its lumbering bassline and sludge metal drudgery stalls momentum after the giddy rush of opening track 'Bathroom Laughter'.
Honeys will not appeal to everyone - it's abrasive, loud and occasionally obnoxious, but there is something more going on here that ensures Pissed Jeans will never be written off as just another bunch of kids in plaid shirts trading on borrowed riffs and rented attitude.
Review by Paul Page
