The drips of releases from The Coolies is what makes Kaka such a stark listen from the moment the needle drops. The album cover, riddled with re-appropriated tags and taggings, speaks to the graffiti laced energy of Kaka. A band active since the late-90’s, Kaka is just as punkish and reckless as the band’s first impressions on New Zealand voyeurs. The album is ramshackle in the best way, maintaining an edge precisely because The Coolies are, well, cool. It feels like the trio were just hanging out, began jamming on some ideas, and out came an album that sounds haphazardly thrown together at first, but uncovers its true intricacies with a bit more prodding. Kaka is anything but shit, though the band is certainly achieving some artistic argument in line with Manzoni where consumerism, market demands and free license battle. But then again, that’s a cool debate that is won on style points. Case in point: Kaka. The Coolies will defecate when and where they want, and those of us that find scatological satisfaction in New Zealand scene watching will go two girls one cup on this.
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