ALBUM REVIEW: MILK TEETH - 'VILE CHILD'

You don't have to be all-knowing of the British underground scene to know that we are in the midst of a mass throwback to the tail end of the last century. Whether bands are taking a leaf from the book of early emo, or harassing their distortion pedals until you can't hear a single clean note, the landscape of new bands is awash with 90s alt-rock vibes, and while we have bands like Rain, Muskets, The New Tusk and Pet Grief to invest our faith in, it'll only be a matter of time until that energy becomes lethargic, and cookie-cutter bands start unjustifiably coming out of the woodwork.

That's why we have bands like Milk Teeth, and after two sensational EPs, Smiling Politely and Sad Sack, they have proved that, through transcending punk, grunge, shoegaze and pop, they are potentially numero uno on the list of most exciting British bands out there right now. Vile Child has been a long time coming, and although their debut album drops with a slight bittersweetness (following guitarist/co-vocalist Josh Bannister's exit from the band shortly before its release), it still makes for authentic, incredible listening...

Milk Teeth 2016, featuring covering guitarist Billy Hutton (centre right)

There's absolutely no denying that Vile Child is more of a nostalgic affair than watching back-to-back episodes of Kenan and Kel on the Trouble channel, chugging Panda Pops in your dungarees. It's 90s as fuck, and gloriously so, nodding retrospectively to the glory days of Sub Pop, but just because Milk Teeth are looking back here, it doesn't mean that they can't look forward in the future. 

Case in point: 'Driveway Birthday', the standout track on the record not only for its searing guitars on the chorus, not only for its very real lyricism tackling the very real issue of mental health ("Happiness lies in a dosage / How else do you fight when there's no cure?") but also for its shinier, shimmering production. There's something crisper and cleaner to it than you may initially associate with a band like this, but the clarity on the verses may just be the catalyst for even bigger things to happen for Milk Teeth.

Soon after 'Driveway Birthday''s fleeting moment of euphoria, 'Brain Food' thrashes around with a goofy garage-punk edge, but its lyrics take cues from early Best Coast and other bands of that ilk, detailing post-adolescent angst and ennui. 'Swear Jar (again)' is an even more outstanding example of Milk Teeth veering towards the lackadaisical vibes of reverberate noise-pop. No matter how many times that band record 'Swear Jar', its slack-jawed melody paired with Blomfield's alluring drawl will never fail in taking you to a whole new level of nirvana.

The sweet/sour contrast of Blomfield's and Bannister's voices are sadly less frequent than on Sad Sack and Smiling Politely (which makes tracks like 'Brickwork' and 'Leona' all the more worth savouring). Now unsurprisingly so, Blomfield is the leading lady vocally, proving her chops on the haunting solo foray that is ‘Kabuki’ (which my good friend George Garner at Kerrang! described brilliantly as Vile Child’s ‘Something In The Way’ moment), but credit where credit’s due to Bannister for bowing out with a string of furious performances. 

'Get A Clue' is a guttural punk rock riot which also sees the rhythm section of guitarist Christopher Webb and drummer Oli Holbrook at their most visceral and arse-kicking, while the aforementioned 'Leona' seethes with such bitter anguish, it's physically intimidating to listen to.

If 'Kabuki' is comparable to 'Something In The Way', then closing track 'Sunbaby' is Vile Child's 'Endless, Nameless': hopping between subdued, shoegazey tones and devastating breakdowns, it's a chilling but apt conclusion to this boundary-obliterating album.

The recording lineup for Vile Child, with now ex-guitarist/vocalist Josh Bannister (far right) - Photo by Martyna Wisniewska

Punk record? Grunge record? Pop record? Fuck knows. The only thing that's for certain is that Vile Child is a Milk Teeth record, and a superb one at that. The future of their sound is less-than-certain following Bannister's departure, but whether they're scrappy, snotty punk rock kids or wide-eyed starlets worshipping at the altar of 90s alt-rock, the almost effortless melding of genres remains as the framework of this band. 

Milk Teeth are not only a vital ingredient in keeping the nostalgic movement of late from becoming stale, but also a prime example of why it's a fucking amazing time to be alive in the UK punk scene right now.

TOP TRACKS: 'Swear Jar (again)'; 'Driveway Birthday'; 'Kabuki'; 'Brain Food'; 'Sunbaby'-- In fact, just listen to the whole thing.

RR RATING:

Vile Child is out now on Hopeless Records. Stream the album on Spotify below:

Danny