Cistamatic’s debut album Now That’s What I Call Cistamatic is a whirlwind of socio-political issues driven by dynamic punk and astute lyrics, and held back ever-so-slightly by vocals that seem unsure of themselves.
The brand of punk the trio opt for is expansive and exploratory, modulating itself in tempo and mood, opening up spaces for the meaning of vocalist and songwriter Gabbi le Roux’s words, messages, rants to be fully realised.
Said lyrics run the gamut of millennial concerns. “Body” is a vulnerable, heartfelt wish from le Roux to feel comfortable in her own skin and “Hysterical Millennial” rages against the condescension of those who think the youth have “issues ‘cause [they] care about issues”.
See also the romantically disillusioned “Swollen Head”, composed and written by bassist Ethan Pelser, that wallows in the endlessly heartbreaking conflict between love and lust.
“Teeth” comes in with unfiltered rage and frustration at gender-based violence, defined by the refrain “I am alive in a place a place where women die” and a Patti Smith-esque poetic break that brutally strikes home the message with the line “womanhood is a tomb and I’m leaving mine open for the birds to pick at”.
The only gripe I have with the album is that le Roux’s vocals sometimes feel mired between outright emotional expression and technically sound vocal technique resulting in a slight lack of conviction.
That aside, Now That’s What I Call Cistamatic is a powerful debut from a band unafraid of putting themselves on the front-lines of the social-justice war.
Feature pic supplied by artist
