MISS JUNE - Bad Luck Party (Album)

 
1.jpg
 

PAIGE BARRETT

Screw it. Pierce your tongue. Cut yourself a fringe so messy that you vaguely resemble a sheepdog. Tear your jeans even more so than you already have. Draw questionable art all over your boots. Get a tattoo sleeve compiled of your favourite fictional characters if that’s what you really want. Be the freest, most boisterous version of yourself you can be, and you may as well be listening to MISS JUNE’s debut album, ‘Bad Luck Party’ while you’re at it. 

 

Released via Frenchkiss Records, the bundle of chaos that is ‘Bad Luck Party’ is heavily reminiscent of the classic punk scene. It is relentless in its delivery, kicking off with singles, ‘Twitch’ and ‘Best Girl’, both of which were previously released with equally gutsy videos. ‘Twitch’ is looming, with its somewhat sinister lyricism and prickly guitar solos, while ‘Best Girl’ stomps with conviction, disregarding its now muddied and frayed laces. This song whirs and punches interchangeably, kindling the tone for the rest of the album.

 

‘Two Hits’ is one of the most expressive tracks in this barbed anthology; it is thrown from palm to palm in a crowd of frenzied misfits that are caterwauling along with a mimicked intensity to Annabel Liddell’s vocals. Another single, ‘Anomaly’, trudges in next, exemplifying the more poised side of MISS JUNE. Guitars twinkle throughout the verses (Jun Park) before combusting into chunky power chords that cushion the snappy choruses. 

 

With choruses so snappy, in fact, like that of ‘Enemies’, ‘Bad Luck Party’ acts as the jaws of a distressed alligator. In a scene that has become glossed with pop-punk over the likes of punk or rock, this album will tear the limbs from anyone that dares to claim that “punk is dead”. The angst in this release is pungent, and it will not think twice about infiltrating the brains of those that advocate for the stagnancy of punk rock. 

 

‘Aquarium’ has the potency to prove this fact alone. Punk music is not only alive, but it is thriving. Each beat (Tom Leggett) in this discombobulated track is a blow to the face, teasing blood from your nostrils and lower lip. It thrusts with such a velocity, however, that staying still while ‘Aquarium’ pumps isn’t an option. Peppering the walls with your own blood, sweat and teeth is the only way to do this track the justice it demands. 

 

Using the cluster of preceding tracks as a boost, ‘Scorpio’ hoists itself to the top of the pile and screams into the void until its lungs rattle. This track draws an element of vulnerability to the album, expressed in a contrast to the songs before it. While still sprinting atop startling basslines (Chris Marshall), ‘Scorpio’ spritzes the release in modernity, graffitiing their names onto the snout of the alligator. Punk isn’t dead, and MISS JUNE is a major part of the reason why.

 

‘Please Waste My Time’ ropes the album back down from the arguably emotive previous track, stripping away any facades that may have been applied to punk in recent years. This genre is supposed to provide a dingy sanctuary for outcasted individuals to test the elasticity of their joints while writhing to music, and the conclusion of ‘Bad Luck Party’ does just that. ‘Polio’ oozes down the frets and chokes the audience in a forever-evolving mix of pounding guitars and blended vocal deliveries. 

 

The album dwindles as the audience comes down from their adrenaline high, and MISS JUNE, a four-piece punk-rock band from Auckland, New Zealand, hang up their instruments and untangle their leads. As they wipe the sweat from their blushed and sweaty faces, they pick up their graffiti cans and re-approach the beast. Not only are MISS JUNE restyling the punk scene, they’re redefining it. 

MISS JUNE is:

Annabel Liddell – Vocals and Guitar

Jun Park – Guitar 

Chris Marshall – Bass

Tom Leggett – Drums

 

‘Bad Luck Party’ Tracklist:

1. Twitch

2. Best Girl

3. Two Hits

4. Anomaly

5. Orchid

6. Double Negative

7. Enemies

8. Aquarium

9. Scorpio

10. Please Waste My Time

11. Polio