Wet Lips' eponymous debut shares more than just a little with Sleater-Kinney classic Dig Me Out.
It's not just the sonics - fuzzy power chords and bass hooks, topped with tempered screams - but also the way it satirises and derides the patriarchy. Wet Lips are sick of our shit. All of it.
Look no further than single, Can't Take It Anymore. While it's difficult to ascertain exactly what they're screaming, it's very clear what they're screaming about. Wet Lips is unapologetically feminine, the ethos of its brazen two and three-chord headbangers epitomised by the visceral depictions of menstruation found on Period. You'll be hard-pressed to find a better song this year about finding blood on your knickers.
Like Boat Show's Groundbreaking Masterpiece earlier in the year, Wet Lips is a great advert for local punk. It's short, fast and loud; while also managing to squeeze in a more than a little politics. There's not a lot of variation, but variation has never really been a hallmark of punk, or why the genre matters. Punk is about getting angry, turning up to 11 and kicking out the jams. Wet Lips do it pretty damn well.
