The Coathangers' debut album had a song called "Shut the Fuck Up", and the elements were few: a tom-heavy thwack, brief guitar stabs, and a basic keyboard melody. The lyrics, like so many others by the Atlanta punks, are aggressive: "You said I broke your heart and you’ll never love again/ Let’s tell the truth you only like the way I give head." Then, the full band screams along the chorus: "Well grow up, and then shut the fuck up!" Seven years later, on Suck My Shirt, they've got a song on the album called, simply, "Shut Up". The message here is more grown up—the narrator is fed up after years of being lied to, whined at, and blamed. And this time around, the band are firing on all cylinders—the drums sound more full, the guitars more complex, and the vocals are sung rather than growled or screamed. "Shut up," they sing repeatedly at the chorus, more out of frustration than vindictiveness.
No longer peddling the candy-coated vigor of "Stop Stomp Stompin'" or the intense, Nina Hagen-esque vocal delivery of "Johnny", Suck My Shirt shows a band continuing to grow and refine their sound. Have they become more tame as they've become a tighter band? Hell no. Their instruments still bite and their vocals still growl. But this time, the subject matter feels weightier. Several songs have the band addressing the harsh realities of love and relationships ("I know it's hard to love me," bellows Stephanie Luke on "Love Em and Leave Em"), all while delivering some of the best performances in their discography.
Four tracks that recently appeared on Suicide Squeeze singles, reworked for the album, are all performed with urgency and power. "Smother" is a persistent burner with an infectious chorus about needing space. "Adderall", one of the best-constructed songs of the album with its subtle harmonies and calm-before-the-storm chorus, is about deception. You can detect a hint of sorrow in Luke's vocals on "Derek's Song", a requiem for their fallen friend Derek Shepherd, but it's offset by the track's opening power chords. Then there's "Merry Go Round", one of the album's undeniable highlights, and describing the "he tricks her, she tricks him" plot isn't nearly as interesting as the earworm chorus: "I'll have some fun on the merry go round,/ I'll get real high on the merry go round...".
The only snag along the way has to do with the length of their songs. Album opener "Follow Me" has a melody that's immediate and lyrics that're both aggressive and playful, but it's a song that goes for a largely unvarying four minutes. Before they even find the second minute, they're repeating the lengthy-on-its-own first verse again. Why? It's a punk song with momentum, but it's stretched too thin. Other songs start slow—"Love Em and Leave Em", for example, which opens with a trudge. But that track is also an example of one of the Coathangers' greatest strengths: They've become adept proprietors of "the drop." Right as the chorus hits, there's a pause, and then they launch into a breakneck chorus. It's even more satisfying one track later, on "Zombie", because it's completely unexpected. The track comes to a full stop. Then a wall of frenzied guitars, fingers shoved to the bottom of the fretboard, an atmosphere that's sudden and dire.
There's plenty of ire on Suck My Shirt, but the album's real stunner is "Drive", which isn't angry at all. Their warm, gentle power pop guitars close the album, and the narrator sings with a sense of longing. She's waiting for someone special to come home; it's been too long. "But you," she sings, pausing—maybe the pause is there so the verse can fit in the confines of the song's structure, but it's just as likely that the truth at hand is too painful for the full sentence to come out at once. "You drive away from me." She says she'll stop waiting around for him, but as the chorus hits and she sings "so long, my love," it feels bittersweet. It's a relatable sentiment in a beautiful song. Somehow, on an album called Suck My Shirt, the Coathangers manage to have it all. It's well-recorded, well-written, and teeming with both force and emotional depth.
