To listen to Mannequin Pussy is to exercise a profound appreciation for dynamics. The band’s ability to move from restrained quietude to blistering rage in an instant is the heart of their craft, and the innermost room of that heart is singer and guitarist Missy Dabice. The live experience pushes the same theme to the absolute limit – the Philly band recently sold out two nights at The Sinclair in Cambridge, joined by Soul Glo, who rip open the night rather than ease people in. They make a compelling case between the two of them that Philadelphia is among the most vital locales for punk music right now.
Early on during Soul Glo, the middle of the room becomes an unrelenting maelstrom of bodies clashing together. Still, when Mannequin Pussy take the stage soon after, there is a notable moment of calm before their particular storm. I Got Heaven is the band’s fourth album, and it continues to build on the magnetically-attracting work they’ve established thus far in their career. Opener ‘I Don’t Know You’ is perhaps the most reined-in the band has ever sounded on record, and onstage Dabice sways side to side a bit in time with its counted lyrical cadence. But even before the end of that song, they’ve driven up the volume, before building through another pair of songs from IGH before coming to the duo of ‘Patience’ and ‘Drunk II’. The latter in particular provides a much-needed moment of catharsis, a slice of life from inside the pitch-dark aftermath of a relationship and breakup where memory fails – because you wanted it that way – and you feel most alone.
If there is an analog to that moment on this record it’s ‘I Got Heaven’, before which Dabice takes a moment to rail against “any religion that refuses to let people just be themselves,” voice ramping in decibels across the sentence until it culminates in an exclamatory interrogation: “AND FOR WHAT?”. As with ‘Loud Bark’, the song invokes the image of a biting dog, and the verses are delivered in that way, but the soaring chorus once again flips to the opposite face with its beauty, the narrator morphing from Cerberus to an angel and back again. Bear Regisford’s bass roars as loud and stalwart as ever underneath the new album, and Maxine Steen alternates between playing keys and shredding stage-right on her Flying V.
Much of the music, as well as Dabice’s intermediary commentary, deals with the validity of anger. Not the glorification of it, or even the harnessing or shaping of it, which can be so difficult – more just allowing oneself to feel it. She speaks, quietly, of how anger is often “infantilized and dismissed”, then once again turns on a dime and screams, “FUCK THAT!” – it almost feels like putting it in all caps is not sufficient emphasis to describe the exclamation. As they’ve done many times before, Dabice invites the audience to join her in a unified scream, a “reflection” of that anger. “Allow yourself to make a sound that you did not know you were capable of making… Don’t be shy… You are not too cool for this”. The result is akin to hearing a volcano or similar force of nature come alive around you.
The later part of the band’s set, both before and after a brief encore break, spotlights Regisford, who co-leads ‘OK? OK! OK? OK!’ a highlight from I Got Heaven and sings lead on ‘Pigs is Pigs’, their first song returning from backstage, heralded by a slow bassline intro. Across the set, with four of their five releases intermingled, it becomes abundantly clear how, in a relatively short time, they’ve made so many songs that have become essential parts of people’s lives by virtue of reflection. Mannequin Pussy’s music speaks to something deeply rooted in the cores of their listeners, and the band builds music around it to hammer that connection home and seal it indelibly – best absorbed by headphones and hearts with a wide dynamic range.
Photos and Review by Collin Heroux
