Kamehameha by Ponytail is the musical equivalent of a pile of bricks at the Tate. It’s all punk and freakshow, aggression and harmless fun with the ten songs falling into some weird midpoint between the Slits and Napalm Death.
They have a spunky, fuck-you sound whose charm is undermined by claims that the band is a ‘conceptual art experiment’ which suddenly makes everything seem a lot less fun.
No matter. They probably make a great live act – tight, ferocious backing from guitar, bass and drums, punchy, pacey, spittle-flecked and sweat-soaked, although stretched over thirty minutes it all began to pall for me, mainly because of the vocals, an extended exercise in deranged bathroom operatics and petulant shrieks probably best described as a kind of angry miaow.
‘Tracks like ‘Alltogethernow’, ‘Start a Corporation’ and ‘Island Z’ are stabbing, visceral guitar assaults but still the spectre of art rock hangs heavy over the proceedings, like the emperor’s new clothes or a Turner Prize nomination.
There are moments of adrenelin, surging and invigorating, but combined with a preciousness (reflected by the arty packaging) that weighs the project (sorry, conceptual art experiment) down.
Its wilful obscurantism packaged and sold to anyone wanting to buy into the scene, which is fair enough.
It’s refreshing or infuriating, depending on which side of the bed you happen to get out of, or to paraphrase the Rolling Stones, ‘Yeah, Yeah, It’s only discordant art rock, but I like it’.
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