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Rating: Take three Japanese girls around eighteen years old.
Take them cute, naive, and sweet, as only Asians can be, in sailor school uniforms. And then be surprised.
Because if you expected this to be a review of the typical awful record by a commercial j-pop idol trio, well, you're hugely mistaken.
The Red Bacteria Vacuum were born from the ashes and cigarette butts left on the scorched carpet of a damp and dirty basement. They scream like only a few can scream, shattering glass, souls and vocal chords. They hit hard as if they were hitting the heads of hated men. They pulverize balls with a glance. They slap you with guitar, drums, and bass. You didn't expect it, but it's happening.
They. Their cute faces blossoming with malice that many punk or metal bands can only dream of. They, who behind those slightly slanted eyes, can drill your brain with gut-busting tracks (the unforgettable, ferocious "Roller Coaster").
"Dolly Dolly, Make An Epoch" is their 2009 album. Made of guts and kisses. Made of hugs and coagulated blood. It's a revolutionary punk work that quickly synthesizes sweetness, fear, anger, and heart. An album that opens with an indefinable track like the irresistible "Horror Samba" and reaches absolute peaks in two gems like "Diet" or "Aurora"", sweet polaroids of youthful rage and soul discomfort. "Why?" is the shard that in just under two minutes synthesizes the whole Riot Grrrl phenomenon, "Color", on the other hand, becomes slightly more catchy and surfy with more than convincing results.
"Envy" is sensual and warbling, like a rose that suddenly dies on closed eyelids, with a tear left to drown on the skin. Then it explodes and becomes orgasmic. "Gerilonn" is almost useless in its attempt at electronic improvisation and discipleship of Perfume, but soon becomes irresistible. But the art of Red Bacteria is embodied in an absurd track like "Antonius Ni Sagasu", an indefinable punk-western-kabuki farce that confounds from the first listen and leaves grime on the soul, before the album's closure comes from two potent pieces.
First, an irresistible song like "XXX The Truth", dreamy and wandering like a midsummer night's dream, a transparent cloud that diverges, and then "Zero" that chains and hits the listener with a concluding rush of female adrenaline.
And when I close my eyes, my dreams are anything but golden.
Bad, exciting and unexpectedly poignant, "Dolly Dolly, Make An Epoch" is served.
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