“The Stupid Stuff,” the debut album by Houston post punk band Giant Kitty is like a musical tweet. It’s in and out. Mic drop. Bam! On to the next song. It says what it needs to say, and it says it in the voice of everyday people you pass on the street. It’s quick, fresh, and it’s funny, but a serious thread connects the album’s tracks, anchoring it to the real world and the truth with which ordinary people must live in this ideologically divided place and time. It exposes the hypocrisy and absurdity of society’s perceptions and deceptions with honesty instead of bitterness. Like all great tweets, the beauty of “The Stupid Stuff" is in its brevity and in its bite. There’s an art and a necessity to making a valid point with as few words as possible when the collective attention span has been diluted by the economic parameters of the modern media landscape. Giant Kitty has adapted to this reality and perfected this art with “The Stupid Stuff.” In a scant 36 minutes, Giant Kitty lays down a drive-by, rapid fire hail of truth in sharp, danceable riffs about some of the most polarizing issues today: societal stereotypes, gender bias, gender equality, ageism, mental health, sexuality, and society’s pathetically misguided emphasis and idolization of pop cultural icons. “The Stupid Stuff” doesn’t beat you over the head and preach how it should be. It encourages you to bang your head to energetic grooves and tells you how it is.
“The Stupid Stuff” jumps right into the fray, swinging at this bitterly at odds world by addressing gender stereotypes with “Borrow My Skirt” as seen through the metaphorical barriers and labels of fashion choices, those personalized billboards with which you advertise yourself to others. If you come to the (turn) table with an open mind, like everyone should, “Borrow My Skirt” will strengthen your non-judgmental way of thinking and give you something to rock along to while you wait for those who remain rigid in their foolish ideals of what should be inconsequential concerns to finally come around. You never know, it’s possible the power of rock and roll could compel them to dismantle the barriers they’ve built in their minds, that impede rational thought. Come on. Open your mind and make Bob Geldof proud. “Old People Sex” is a jovial anthem for, what depending upon your age now, might be considered a touchy (pun intended) topic. It’s the long overdue, post punk reply to The Beatles' musical question “Will you still need me… when I'm sixty-four?” It’s a funny thing, or sad, depending on your age, when a song that would have made you say “Eeewwww” just yesterday, can suddenly be your rallying cry the next time you turn around and find you’re in the vicinity of 50 and all of the shades of grey that come with it, imposed upon you by a youth-obsessed society. It’s a rude awakening at first, then strangely freeing when the Eeewwww becomes you. With “Old People Sex,” Giant Kitty helps usher in this feeling of freedom. It laughs off society’s superficial, ageist attitudes of this inevitable rite of passage, by injecting a musical spring in your step and turning it into a festive invitation to rip off those confining flannels and get busy with a well-earned, guiltless celebration of that unavoidable milestone that’s getting closer every day for everyone.
“Fascinator” is a rock and roll pep talk to be comfortable in your own skin, even if that skin includes an extension of a subtle fashion accessory (a tiny hat with a feather, perhaps) that enhances your beauty in your own eyes. If you’re going to dress (or accessorize) to impress, then by all means, impress yourself first and foremost. After all, when you look in the mirror, aren’t you usually alone anyway? Maybe others will appreciate your individualized beauty. If they don’t, then just be happy with yourself. You don’t owe anything more to anyone else. The title song, “The Stupid Stuff” amps up this sentiment several notches with its brooding bass riff and vocalist Miriam Hakim’s fury-infused, “I’m mad as hell and I ‘m not going to take it anymore” battle cry warning that the world can be an unkind place. If you’re going to survive, you have to be prepared to swallow or spit out the poison this harsh world tries to feed you when it comes to how people perceive, compartmentalize, and mold you in their desired image, especially when you stray from their conventional labels and categories. This is the stupid stuff that dictates a distorted world view and self-validates and promotes ignorance, passionately laid bare, out in the open by Giant Kitty. “The Stupid Stuff” presents the choices you get when faced with this ignorance. You can surrender to it and say goodbye to yourself, or fight and rise above it and stay true to who you are.
Staying close to this theme of society’s tendency to fear and reject the “other,” “Hipster Boy” is a lighthearted shout-out of acceptance to an under appreciated, often mocked and disrespected demographic existing, by choice on the fringes of mainstream society. On an album with darker, more serious issues, the decision to interject more cowbellat the beginning of the song easily ensures that “Hipster Boy” is an upbeat, humorous reminder to look beyond lifestyles and outward appearances as a means to understanding people. It provides some levity to a no-brainer of a moral message before the album flows into darker waters with a similar, but more urgent message for what lurks, often unnoticed and misunderstood beneath the surface for family members, friends, and sometimes yourself. “The Stupid Stuff” doesn’t only tackle external conflicts with society and its competing forces. There are more difficult internal battles which also must be waged as you go through life. Giant Kitty brings this not often talked about struggle close to home with “No Home,” a heartfelt, musical search for peace and comfort in a world that can often be unfairly overwhelming. “No Home” is a wishful escape plan to one’s elusive “happy place” as seen through the eyes of someone who has either suffered from or witnessed first-hand the endless cycle of depression. Sadly, as the title implies, there are no magical cures or answers to combat depression and the toll it takes. However, Giant Kitty draws attention to the pervasiveness of depression among love ones and friends and shines a much needed light through the fog of misunderstanding around this condition, giving voice to those who struggle to find a peaceful home in the darkness.
“Man Size” is Giant Kitty’s revved up cover of the PJ Harvey original. As delivered by Hakim and reinforced full throttle by the band, it's a liberating rebel yell, a beautiful, raging bellow across the bow of gender expectations, stereotypes, and equality. It rocks hard, bringing the full force and ferocity of the stronger sex, whichever one that may be for you. However, Giant Kitty’s cover of “Man Size” renders this point moot with its fierce conviction and cathartic delivery. It elicits serious rock and roll head banging, and in the process, it shakes loose any societal or cultural cobwebs obstructing factual thought about gender roles. It either strengthens or re-calibrates your perceptions of gender power and strength. It’s a musical recruitment poster to join forces with the band and charge headlong, fist pumping into the battle of the sexes, for the right side. As if they hadn’t already disturbed the mainstream hornets’ nest enough up to this point on the album, Big Kitty goes all in on one of the most pertinent, far-reaching issues of the day – the cultural magnificence of actor Keanu Reeves. “Don’t Stop That Bus” is a snarkcheological excavation everyone in a celebrity obsessed society can dig. It’s a pop-culture mix tape of everything Keanu. More importantly, it’s a reminder of the punk rock paradigm that ordinary people can get up on stage, become performers, and even be immortalized as icons without relinquishing who they were in their previous lives. This is cleverly demonstrated in Keanu’s own cinematic words in the preamble to “Don’t Stop That Bus,” as his character confidently identifies himself as an “EFF BEE EYE agent” in his most excellent Bill & Ted’s accent. Click here to see the official video for “Don’t Stop That Bus.”
In what could be describe as a counterpoint to the celebrity worship culture that reared its ugly head in “Don’t Stop That Bus,” “Average” glorifies the other end of the celebrity spectrum. It idolizes the mundane, invisible inhabitants of the world, who wander unnoticed in their khaki pants and Polo shirts, as they happily drive their mini vans and Honda Accords to dine at Applebee's, snack on sherbet cones, and window shop at Sears. “Average” is a sad commentary on how it might seem safer for you to take the path of least societal resistance and find comfort with blending in, not taking any risks, and becoming complacent with conforming to the norm, instead of celebrating and being proud of what makes you stand out from everyone else. In contrast to taking the easy road, with “Tough Girls,” Giant Kitty goes to bat for women who don’t fit the traditional, misogynistic view of the “weaker” sex, which is far too prevalent in what is considered a civilized society. “Tough Girls” is a gloves-off defense of strong women, who in this day and age are still met with hostility, mocked, and ridiculed for daring to show any sign of strength. “Tough Girls” could easily be a “where are they now” follow-up to the protagonist of the title track of the album who chose option two to survive in the world, only to find out that this was a perceived threat to the narrow-minded mob they built their defenses against. Giant Kitty punches holes in black and white gender stereotypes with a reminder that despite their hardened exterior, tough girls have feelings and emotion and hostile and callous treatment still has a demoralizing effect on even the strongest women. “Tough Girls” is an aggressive, colorfully worded appeal to look beyond the surface in your interactions with others and treat them respectfully.
The “Stupid Stuff” closes with “American Dad,” a collective purging for a society duped again by a superficial media; this time, into believing a pop culture icon (Bill Cosby) represented the ideal father figure and patriarchal symbol. Where Giant Kitty had fun with the absurdity of society’s obsession with celebrity culture with “Don’t Stop That Bus,” “American Dad” exposes the seamy side of celebrity worship, giving an entirely different meaning to the word Cosplay. It’s a communal rebuke and public testimony to “who’s not your daddy?” fueled by a rage over being deceived not just by the alleged celebrity fraud himself, but by a media all too willing to put him on an idealistic pedestal despite voices from the “weaker” sex that had raised warnings early on. The wrath of “American Dad” is driven less by a “We won’t be fooled again” sentiment than it is by a “We probably will be fooled again” reality, and that’s what gives the song its punch. Everyone knows this celebrity rise and fall from grace scenario will happen again, and the public will eat it up like Jell-O Pudding as the media leads the charge up and down that same hill. In a little under four minutes, “American Dad” ties it all up, connecting many of the unifying themes of the album: societal perceptions, more accurately misconceptions of gender equality, gender bias, sexuality, sexism, mental health, inaccurate labels, stereotypes, and celebrity obsession. With “The Stupid Stuff,” Giant Kitty reminds you why you need real rock and roll, especially punk rock. It’s your unwavering ally when you need to call out the deceits and delusions of the establishment. It gives you a voice in the choir to rage against the mean. It’s your Twitter feed. In and out. Mic drop. Bam! On to the next album.
Giant Kitty is Miriam Hakim (vocals), Cassandra Chiles-Quirk (guitar), Glenn Gilbert (bass), and Trinity Quirk (drums). For more information about Giant Kitty, including a schedule of upcoming shows, you can follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram or visit their website. You can find Giant Kitty’s “The Stupid Stuff” on iTunes or at Cactus Music.
Click here to see a live in store performance by Giant Kitty at Cactus Music.