ShitKid is the embodiment of what makes Bandcamp special. Åsa Söderqvist uploaded her first recordings in 2015 and turned away from them for a few months as her tracks quietly gained traction. After getting picked up by PNKSLM and dropping a couple of EPs, ShitKid’s first full-length Fish is now out. Prior to ShitKid, Åsa had only played music live three times. That comes through on her nine songs’ self-assured sneering yet anxious tone.
But above all, ShitKid is badass. She has the right combination of lo-fi indie, post-punk, and a few surprising touches of country influence to channel a balance of confidence and agitation. There’s a few mentions on Fish of being scared of the world – even being afraid of fish themselves. Sometimes ShitKid comes out on top of fear with pride (“Sugar Town”), but sometimes she sounds resigned (“Likagurl”). The garage-rock guitars on “Sugar Town” fill the track with distortion that is crunchier than bones breaking. Its drums are accented by noises that are reminiscent of a heavily distorted dog’s bark – this is even better in context when you consider the opening lines, “Yeah I’m on my way, on my way to Hell. Burnt up a dog and got away with it.” “Likagurl,” meanwhile, has a baggy eyes, coffee drenched, just-rolled-out-of-bed-at-three-pm kind of energy. Its instrumental chaos swirls around a disinterested pop “la la la” melody, until it succumbs to the weight of its noise a couple of minutes in.
The closer, “Gettin’ Mad,” is a skeletal pop ballad sung with the air of a country singer. It acts like a respite from the rest of the album’s scuzz-filled attacks. With only a drum loop, an organ, and vocals, “Gettin’ Mad” is the longest and last track on Fish. It’s a story about ShitKid nursing a hangover after drinking too much by accident. Again. On the way home, a chirping bird was testing her headache and seemingly taunting her. She threw a rock at it because she probably had fun last night anyway. On the surface, it’s a bright ending to the album, rejecting others’ expectations of yourself and being sure of what makes you happy. But something about the teeter-totter of confidence through the album and the eerie effect of the reverb on everything makes you question whether the final, “I was having fun was I not?” is directed at the bird or if it’s directed inwards.
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