<\/p>\nThe contrast is stark: between a millionaire superstar lamenting her role as a cog in the machine, and a band of against-the-grain underdogs boldly and aggressively reclaiming their right to, and their glee in putting on a show in the (uncompromising, unsettling) way they see fit. \u201cIt\u2019s about wanting your milk, wanting your honey, even though you\u2019re scum and don\u2019t deserve a taste\u201d, states – among other things – the caption accompanying the unveiling of the track on social media. If you want to read into it both a proud reclaiming of space from someone who might feel the pressure of that space being denied to them, and a scathing criticism of a showbiz ecosystem that runs on a very specific assumption of who\u2019s allowed to be an artist and who is not, you may not be entirely off the mark.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\nWith this in mind, it is hardly surprising that the song finds its backbone in some truly strong lyrics. This is not new for a band whose lyrics have always been beautiful and haunting, often feeling more like poetry put to music, but there are some snippets in there that feel like grainy snapshots taken backstage at a gig, capturing the dust and the sweat and the grime so neatly that you can almost touch them. Certainly, they do not shy away from the uglier bits, but rather than lamenting them, they embrace them, relish them even:\u00a0<\/span>\u201cEach time I cry it feel better than the last\u201d<\/span>, frontman\u00a0<\/span>Angus Rogers<\/span>\u00a0intones at one point, and you can almost hear a grin in his voice as he does. If this makes you uncomfortable, it\u2019s almost certainly meant to. This is no black-and-white representation of the life of the artist: it\u2019s a nuanced portrait of its contradiction, painted mostly in murky colour.\u00a0<\/span>\u201cI\u2019m a pretty showboy, I don\u2019t want to be free\u201d<\/span>, the song concludes in the end, as a broad choral section devolves into a snarl. It could be condemnation, it could be liberation: it\u2019s most likely a bit of both and something else altogether.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\nWhat the track certainly is, both musically and emotionally, is punk, arguably more than the band\u2019s other, most recent offerings. If indeed it is the first peek at what might be an upcoming album, which has been hinted, but not confirmed, then perhaps we can expect a change of pace, if not a change of voice. The band\u2019s voice, which has been strong and distinctive from the very beginning, indeed remains unchanged, with its clever use of brass, its textured, emotional vocals, and its shifting rhythms that are cleverly chained together to create an atmosphere rather than just string up a tune. The pace, however, has shifted, and with it, to an extent, so has the tone: both feel quicker, sharper, more ragged – more punk. Where earlier singles had the thick, unsettling melancholia of some blues-and-folk-adjacent Americana (think\u00a0<\/span>The Handsome Family<\/span>, but also some of the later\u00a0<\/span>Tom Waits<\/span>), this is more stripped down and more raw, the dominant emotions being anger and defiance, and the kind of wild, slightly deranged glee that\u2019s found on the other end of them. The galloping, faster-paced sections, especially with the way the brass instruments are used here, feel both like a cheeky callback to the band\u2019s beginnings (there\u2019s a similar handling of rhythm in\u00a0<\/span>\u2018Wild Bill\u2019<\/span>, for instance) and like they are directly related to\u00a0<\/span>Gogol Bordello<\/span>\u00a0and their gypsy-punk scions. The initial hook could have come out of a\u00a0<\/span>Fat White Family<\/span>\u00a0song circa\u00a0<\/span>\u2018Songs For Our Mothers\u2019<\/span>, although it rapidly derails into something completely different. The song as a whole feels like Opus Kink distilled: all fat trimmed, all sharp edges exposed, perhaps the best representation of the electric intensity of their live shows thus far.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\nWhether Opus Kink\u2019s sound is truly punk or not is a debate to be had, probably without a conclusive answer in a time where the word \u2018punk\u2019 has come to mean everything and nothing. What\u2019s certain, however, is that this track is undoubtedly punk in spirit, in all possible meanings of the term. It\u2019s an energy we very much need in an art scene that far too often feels sanitised and much too safe.<\/span><\/p>\n
<\/span><\/p>\nChiara Strazzulla<\/i><\/p>\n
@cstrazzull<\/span><\/a><\/p>\nImage: \u2018I\u2019m A Pretty Showboy\u2019 Official Single Cover<\/span><\/p>\n