THE DISTILLERS
Sing Sing Death House (Hellcat)
Reviewed by DJ Johnson

---

Brody Armstrong's loaded with talent, she sings with the energy of Courtney Love, the swagger of Joan Jett and the cool lack of enunciation of Rancid's Tim Armstrong (who happens to be her husband - maybe their lip pins are stuck together?), and she writes material worthy of being performed by someone like that. Right now punk is going in so many directions that the word has lost its original meaning. The Distillers don't seem to be preaching gratuitous hatred, so they don't fit with a lot of the current crop. They do seem to be able to present tales of angst and adversity without smacking into very many cliches, which is some neat trick. Maybe they're going to start something here and we'll be seeing other bands paying attention to melody (just enough to stick it in your ear, Bubba), rhythm (I mean besides the one a jackhammer operator can provide if the drummer doesn't show up) and lyrics (besides "fuck you, fucker.") But then they won't have Brody Armstrong, and whether it's against punk ethic or not, I think she's gonna be a star, folks.

© 2002 - DJ Johnson