Dum Dum Girls - I Will Be
At first glance, the amount of allusions, references, connections, and tributes to the past on Dum Dum Girls’ Sub Pop debut, I Will Be, can seem overwhelming. The band name itself is a feminization of a name Iggy Pop called his former band, punk godfathers The Stooges, and frontwoman Kristin Gundred goes by the stage name Dee Dee (like a certain Ramones bassist). Gundred co-produced the album with industry veteran Richard Gottehrer, who co-wrote the classic Angels’ song “My Boyfriend’s Back” and wrote/performed the original “I Want Candy” as part of The Strangeloves. He’s also done production work over the years with Blondie, The Go-Gos, and The Raveonettes. Perhaps by now we’ve got a pretty good idea of what to expect from this album, yes? In both its conceptualization and its execution, I Will Be is an exercise in blending the traditionally masculine heaviness of punk and garage rock with the traditionally feminine sweetness of girl group pop.
It’s not a new concept by any means, and recently it feels like there’s been a rash of this kind of thing (Best Coast, The Sandwitches, and most prominently Vivian Girls, though DDGs drummer Frankie Rose used to play in VGs, so I guess that only sorta counts). I suppose when you really think about it, all of Dum Dum Girls’ closest musical antecedents pulled the same trick too. “Everybody’s Out” evokes a monotone version of The Shangri-Las, who were adding a rebellious toughness to the girl group formula back in the mid 60s. Gundred takes a page straight out of their book, repeating the lines “Everybody’s out to get my baby,” and “My baby’s better than you (yes he is),” in a deadpan harmony a la “Leader of the Pack.” Another standout is “Rest of Our Lives,” at just over three minutes one of I Will Be’s longest songs, which dials back the album’s chugging tempo while retaining its pervasive reverb and melodicism. This lands Dee Dee and the Girls squarely in Jesus And Mary Chain territory, mumbling lines like “Your eyes consume me / they always have / before you knew me / I dreamt of them” while the slowly decaying drums swallow up and blend with the guitar’s trebly distortion and a barely audible arpeggiated lead.
But perhaps the best illustration of how Dum Dum Girls can successfully appropriate these styles is early single “Jail La La.” Frankie’s drums eschew any vintage pop bounce in favor of the album’s simplest and punchiest pulse, while bassist Bambi employs a sharper distortion that makes the low end speak more clearly than it does anywhere else. Dee Dee and second guitarist/vocalist Jules play it cool and collected on the verses (in which our narrator wakes up in a holding cell unable to remember what kind of trouble she got into), but open up their harmonies and actually project some passion on the chorus. “Someone call my baby / or else he won’t know I need saving,” they plead. It’s one of those odd moments where the line between irony and sincerity becomes so obscured that you don’t know how to take it. The Girls spend half the track treating inebriation and imprisonment with such singsongy carelessness that we’re tempted to take the chorus as a sarcastic middle finger to chauvinistic notions of the helpless little girl who needs a man to protect her. But the shrillness of the high harmony and Dee Dee’s “Don’t tell my mother / don’t tell my father” line seem invested with genuine anxiety and fear, so maybe she really does need saving?
I Will Be’s 11 songs fly by in less than thirty minutes, and if you don’t pay attention the album can wash over you and be gone before you even start caring about it. It’s actually a good thing. Dum Dum Girls’ rhythmic, melodic, and sonic range is severely limited, and I sympathize with those who would level the very Ramonesian criticism that all their songs sound exactly the same. Of course, as with any decent punk band, that’s the whole point. In terms of historical references, sound quality, inventiveness, and emotional depth, I Will Be doesn’t do anything better bands haven’t done a thousand times before. What sets it apart is something much harder to quantify: attitude. It’s unapologetically lean and unassailably cool. We of the deep-sensitive-and-artsy ilk tend to scoff at such pedestrian pursuits as coolness, but let us never forget that it’s built into the DNA of rock ‘n roll. Even if I Will Be is ultimately a bit disposable, it’s worth having just for an excuse to throw on your darkest pair of shades and smoke a few cigarettes. Punch anyone who says otherwise.
