Dick Move – Wet
(1:12 Records)
Reviewed by Tim Gruar.
Auckland’s Dick Move release their second album, three years after their debut ‘Chop’, an album of full-on party/rage against the system, landlords and corporate filth.
Songs on ‘Wet’ explode out of the gate, fast and furious and remind me of the first time I heard ‘Crystal’ the opening song on Hüsker Dü’s ‘Candy Apple Grey’. It’s that nuclear ball of snot and snickery delivered at ear bleeding volume and breakneck pace that sucks you into its void. You never forget those first moments – It’s all perfect panic.
Dick Move know this and exploit the template to the extreme. They mine the vault from the Pistols to Exploited and Crass and everyone in between. It’s a simple formula: get in, destroy the room and get out before the cops turn up.
And that’s what you get. But stay alert. Blink and you miss it. Songs like ‘Rampage’ and “I Am Your Dog” are all about the assault. Those two songs are just a taste of the grenade of high energy packed into this 22-minute chaotic noise fest. Punk is about impact and Tāmaki Makaurau punks Lucy Suttor, Lulu Macrae, Luke Boyes, Justin Rendall and Harriet Ellis are all about that.
The new album, produced by Peter Ruddell (Wax Chattels, Sulfate) and mastered by James Goldsmith (Beastwars, DARTZ) at The Beths’ very own K-Road studio sounds like it was a fun experience to make. Just released last month it’s a raucous second studio effort, picking up the baton where 2020’s debut ‘Chop’ left off. ‘Wet’ is at times self-deprecating and sometimes serious but ironic. A kick against the usual pricks – landlords, toxic male culture, getting old and still trying to party.
The title track came about from a sodden ongoing rental situation (not an 80’s Olivia Newton John jazzercize fantasy as the cover art implies). It was “written while lying in bed listening to water drip through the roof into strategically placed pots and pans”. Clearly unacceptable, and way too common, the accompanying video, made by director Stella Reid, dramatically hammers home the point, with vocalist Lucy Suttor almost drowning in a dolls house. It’s a compelling argument for better housing options.
Another stand out is the brisk patriarchy basher ‘Small Man, Big Tweet’. Also produced by Stella Reid, the video is a likely piss take on the open warfare waged in the boardroom between opposing corporate raiders. The final scene of a literal ‘cock fight’ between the two suits is hilarious. You can tell Dick Move don’t always take themselves or their messaging too seriously.
The collection is jam-packed with instant fist-pumps and sprain-yer-vocal chord singalong anthems like the podium-smashing ‘Women, Take The Streets’; rage-filled ‘I Am Enough’, the politically explosive ‘Minimum Living’; a cathartic ‘Feel Better’ and an all-so-brooding number called ‘Eyes For Christmas’. The latter may need a rethink. By the time I got to it I was exhausted, just from listening!
Front person Lucy Suttor’s stage presence is awesome and intense. You get a sense of that on wax, too. Perhaps only restricted by the size of your speakers. Her wonderfully uncultured nasal accent is pure Kiwi drawl and a refreshing change from the imitation snotty London Bovver Boys and Gals accent often adopted by others on the scene. Sutton’s riotous energy is infections. Stick your headphones on and marvel as she creates her own mosh-pit in your head, making this album perfect for a high energy gym work-out, a party rage or even an intense dog walking session. And these guys are even more brilliant live, for real. Get to see them when they open for Foo Fighters next year!
You can feel the raw danger necessary to pull this album off. The unrefined textures in Ruddell and Goldsmith’s final mix capture the band’s live presence perfectly. This could have easily been a bootleg from a Whammy or San Fran show, such is the rawness of its power, which is entirely part of the charm!
Thirteen songs in a little over twenty two minutes is not a hard ask, but it will leave you a bit battered and bruised. So, apologise now to your flatmates for accidently breaking the furniture while pogoing around the living room!
I read another review calling the band Party punk with political messages. That seems about right. Although I think this is a band just embracing the genre and having fun stomping their size nines against everything and anything. Punk is not just for the snivelling youth, they reckon.
This album is the kind of full-throttle party to break down the doors and wake up the neighbours – serious issues done with humour, a bit of nonsense, and eternal rage!
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