Petrichor, the debut EP from the DC-based teen punk outfit of the same name, is a scrappy, razor-edged burst of youthful energy wrapped in equal parts cynicism and giddy playfulness. You can feel the fingerprints of their influencesโBikini Killโs snarl, Fidlarโs recklessness, Green Dayโs hooksโyet the four-piece still manages to stamp their own messy, brilliant personality all over it.
From the jump, โChipโ barrels in with gritty, zooming guitars and cymbals slicing through like broken glass. Augusta Smith sings with a drenched, numbed tone while yearning to โclimb a treeโ and escape the โshades of grey.โ
Then โPPPโ hits, and itโs all distorted riffs, cymbals splashing like theyโre trying to put out a fire, and a hypnotic vocal delivery from Mae Zellmer that teeters between reckless abandon and calculated chaos. It makes you want to stomp your feet and maybe throw something, in the best way. โA Post-Capitalist Retelling of the Little Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoeโ is a sharp-tongued satire with a galloping rhythm, soaring vocals, and a biting hook that turns a nursery rhyme into a capitalist nightmare. She sings, โI will keep my money locked safe and sound, ignore your help cries, beg somewhere else. What am I supposed to do when we are all living in a shoe?โ jabbing the right people to the ribs.
Closing track โX Marks the Spotโ swings things into hooky, playful territory, guitars bouncing, cymbals sizzling, vocals slurring in that intoxicating, off-kilter way that makes the sadness hit even harder.
For a band that hasnโt even hit legal driving age, Petrichor is wildly self-assured. Itโs rough around the edges in all the right ways, packed with both fury and fun, and proves that sometimes the most honest punk comes from kids who still have homework due.
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Review by: Naomi Joan