“Don’t tell me to wait” – Big Joanie, “New Year”
It’s time for another “Albums I Should Have Listened To Already!” This one is exciting. We’re getting into contemporary punk! Contemporary queercore punk, from a big consisting entirely of Black women! For someone who harps on the need to be intentional about consuming art by diverse artists, I am somewhat bad at seeking out bands with women. Yes, there are plenty I like—Gully Boys, Covet, The Interrupters, Spitboy, Petrol Girls—but I kinda have to think about who I like, you know? Same with rappers. I really enjoy Noname, I used to like Nicki Minaj, I have a good time whenever Cardi or Doechii or Megan Thee Stallion or GloRilla songs come on, but still. There could be more women in my Apple Music rotation.
Today, we’re correcting that. At least a little.
HOW I CAME ACROSS THIS ALBUM
Reaghan Buchanan’s excellent zine, The Secret History Of Black Punk, of course! Big Joanie is relatively contemporary, beginning in 2013 when guitarist/singer Stephanie Phillips posted online about wanting to start a Black feminist punk band. The band is named after Stephanie’s mother, and the idea “acting ‘big,’ as in a child acting bigger than themselves.”1 Also recommend reading this album’s description on Bandcamp.
TRACK BY TRACK
New Year
What a phenomenal start to the record. The insistent guitar with that glass-of-water tone. The thumping toms. The catchy chorus, and the fact that they get right to it. Guitar solo is unflashy and perfect.
Fall Asleep
Danceable, but with punk grime. Great combination.
Used To Be Friends
Where was this song when I was in high school? “I want to / be friends with you / but I only / feel hatred.” Kinda Cobain vibes in this song.
Eyes
A real test four songs in. The chords are cool and catchy, but the song has a deliberate muck, like walking in bog. I think it’s cool, but that goddamned recorder—I can’t take the fuckin recorder. Every time this comes on in the car I worry that Mallory is finally going to break and demand I stop playing music in the car.
Way Out
Man you know I love the lead guitar on this. Surfy, but with enough chorus to recall Cobain again.
Down Down
Again invoking punk’s long fascination with surf, using that harmonic minor scale. I will never get tired of it. The stoner-rock quality here is great, too—the lyrics so repetitive they become chants, drums never veering from the toms. Good moodiness on this record.
Tell A Lie
Now we’re right back into trying to be catchy, with a really danceable drum machine mixing with pounding tom beats. There’s still some trance-inducing qualities here, but it’s more of an earworm than anything.
Token
Wild sonic stuff going on here. The drum shifts in the verse are nice. It’s almost like the song keeps fighting itself to become a different thing, but in a way that works.
It’s You
Now we’re moving! Maybe the most cymbals on the record? Higher timbre on the guitar. The bass drives, keeps things danceable. You could picture a woman in a Bond movie dancing to this.
How Could You Love Me
Why not throw in a 50s ballad, right at the end? Gorgeous. Sway, everybody, sway.
Cut Your Hair
What a perfect album ender. Gorgeous. This is how we used to do things, great sad album enders like this.
WHAT I THINK
There is absolutely a punk spirit to this album, but don’t expect the fastest, most energetic songs you’ve ever heard. There’s grime here, some real muck, but it never devolves to sludge. The songs are all tight and never overstay their welcome (except that recorder on “Eyes”). This isn’t an all-the-time record for me, but I really really enjoy it. Sets a great mood, and shows the amazing stuff you can do with a trio. Simplify your songs, everyone! While keeping them strange and unique! (I am maybe talking to myself)
Sorry you got an email,
Chris
- no, Wikipedia is not a primary source, but we’re just overviewing the band here ↩︎