Hard to separate internet whisperings from real world fact, but the juicy Dim Mak Records rumor a few years back was that Devon Aoki, Dim Mak label founder Steve Aoki's sister, was not just a fashion model but either a current or former Jay-Z paramour. Who knows the un-internet-varnished truth, but Dim Mak's web page currently opens to pictures of Devon modeling with Dim Mak merchandise, and the big news on site seems to be that the label will premiere an actual fashion line or two come May. Punk stylization comes as nothing new-- Souls She Said guitarist Don Devore played in Ink & Dagger, a band that invented a genre they called "vampire rock," equal parts corpse paint, antagonism, and stylized hardcore that was more gesture than orientation-- but the Dim Mak dudes, on anyone's message board, are really elevating their fashion game.
Souls She Said are made up of Don Devore and Joe Cardamone, both of whom also play in the L.A.-based Icarus Line; on the Dim Mak website, the newest Icarus Line video is posted, and it largely consists of naked girls and guys rubbing pierced, normally concealed body parts against one another. Again, without guessing who's naked or why, this is all a lot of rock that doesn't look like your punk-rock older brother's flannels or button-downs.
With trepidation then, I looked for clues, but extra-musically, there were few. Souls She Said have yet to show their aesthetic hand: The record artwork plays anagram games with the band name; there's some ambiguous pink and orange sketching; middle fingers sit underneath the CD tray. Song titles give away their priorities only slightly more: "Tastefaker", "Floor on the Floor", or "Cause, I Can't Find a Place in Hell" grate a little, but it's not like they have a song called "AIDS Wolf" or anything.
Crack the record and learn a little more. "Floor on the Floor" is standard indie fake-sex warm-up stuff, spitting nonsense dance commands and 2001 Brooklyn hip-shaking bile to the tune of "I smoke a lot/ That shit is hot," and worse, "Everybody on the floor/ Everybody get on the floor." This is a stylization we know, and even in my Brooklyn 11222, sassed falsetto, guitar swagger, and funky breaks on the snare seem all form and nothing formative. "Tastefaker" has something to do with a Rapture or two, punctuating 2s and 4s with little hip-thrusted guitar flourishes; although Souls She Said also slow it down to points where the song might in fact be difficult to dance to, an iPod DJ is even now fitting "Tastefaker" onto his Thursday night playlist.
"Sunken City" and "Riverbloat" present an older look, telling sonic tales of New Order over four note descending nostalgia drops, some funky MIDI, and little modernizing bass flourishes or jarring guitars that nod to labelmates Bloc Party. Cardamone's vocal wail here is halfway between Bono and Bernard Sumner, with a little Stephen Malkmus thrown in (in particular, on "Distralia", a vocal dead ringer), an effect aided by Devore's occasional Pavement non-licks riffs and the fuzz they every once in a while douse the vocals with. Whether it all adds up to pseudo-side project pastiche, shiny runway fashion skronk, rock-to-get-chicks, or a heartfelt though derivative swing for the post-post-punk fence, only future releases or clothes collections will tell. One thing I do know: Unless they find some folks with ears more virgin than mine, nobody's going home with them yet. Maybe with a newer look...
