When: Sat., Jan. 28, 7 p.m. 2017
Few songs tunneled into my brain last year like “Told You I’d Be With the Guys,” a single that dropped in the fall to tease the excellent new Cherry Glazerr album Apocalipstick (Secretly Canadian). On the track singer Clementine Creevy, now at the ripe old age of 19, unleashes a slashing guitar lick that repeats over and over, creating tension via a hectoring stubbornness—“I was a lone wolf,” she sneers before the trio eases into a slinky, loping chorus that cools the tension, though not the narrator’s insouciant independence. Later Creevy noodles through a chill, slaloming guitar solo that conveys an icy, sleek indifference before the band closes out with a jackhammer ferocity. Nothing that follows is quite as electric, but there’s no mistaking the range, style, and grit of the band, which effectively converts the primitive garage-fueled grime of its 2014 debut album, Haxel Princess (Burger), into Technicolor splendor. Creevy’s gained confidence since then: she performs with purpose as her band mines 80s new wave on “Trash People” (where she blithely sings of wearing her underwear three days in a row), while on the moody, tender ballad “Nuclear Bomb” she expresses solidarity with alienation as she explodes with a sudden howl. Rounded out by drummer Tabor Allen and multi-instrumentalist Sasami Ashworth, Cherry Glazerr move easily between punk rock and pop, Creevy’s attitude infecting every note. As the year opens I don’t know if I’ve encountered a rock band with more raw potential.
Price: sold out