#tits
Only Bangers [CS; Hanged Man]

More #tits. Of course I giggle because as an older gentleman, my mind still resides in the same filthy gutter it did when I was 15. And 25. I mean, men are the dirt worst and the stork brought me a girl as a clear sign to mind my P’s and Q’s. I’m mature now, though I do laugh along with the kid when she makes a fart in the bathtub.

But then there is #tits, whose BFFs put me — and a large swatch of adolescents in adult’s clothing — in our place. No more snickering when Kate and Rachel put the lash to their guitars. No more belly full of jellies when bubbles permeate the bath water’s surface. And though I’ve been to plenty of concerts where women who wail on guitars immediately become sexpots no matter the desired emotion from the music, somehow #tits moves past it by putting it directly in our face. There I go again with this bout of stupid giggles (my maturity comes and goes). But that’s the point, to make us giggle so much that eventually it becomes normal to see two proficient and clever women doing something that society (see: noise blogs and our patriarchal society) have told us for so long was the plaything of men. #tits aren’t standing on a soap box with Only Bangers, largely because they are breaking it, smashing it, destroying it relentlessly over the course of two sides of this cassette. When “Be Prepared to Defend Yourself” hits its high pitched caterwaul, you know you’ve lost your battle. I’m no longer laughing, but that’s because my jaw had to be picked up off the ground. Thankfully I have a daughter who can do that and much more. Thankfully the parents of Rachel and Kate had them, because — and I promise I’m not even smiling as I type this — I want more #tits. I want them to continue to prove all of us wrong, even those of us somehow hiding behind a sly truth. But most of all, I want this sort of guttural guitar noise that is both melodic and prophetic.

Links: #tits - Hanged Man

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