Perfect Chicken – ‘Pecking Order’ album review: absurdist regressive rock from Middlesborough
THE SKINNY: John Cooper Clarke once said that the genius of the Ramones was that ”they understood that it was better to have clever lyrics about moronic subjects than the other way round”. Well, Dr Clarke, what about moronic lyrics about moronic subjects? Where does that factor into the grand scheme of how punk ought to be?
In truth, this transition towards the divvy certainly feels timely. While it might seem utterly tangential to go off on an academic note about an album by the mental masked trio of Perfect Chicken, allow me to indulge—lord knows, they’ve certainly indulged themselves. Back in the days of the Dadaists, they claimed their daftness had nothing to do with nothing (double negative intended). But it certainly served to reflect the utter insanity of World War One.
Maybe that’s what these lads from Teeside are doing? Having a daft laugh and joke in the beloved tradition of the likes of Viz and Vic and Bob before the laughter stops. Either way, it’s endearing. And it is elevated by being short, sweet, and backed by clever music that they’re dubbing ‘regressive rock’. It’s a sound and energy that could certainly cause you to grumble if you’re in a less agreeable mood. But the lads don’t mind that. they’ll wait with a cup of tea until you’ve settled down and you’re ready for some refreshing stupidity that feels oddly subversive.
You could rattle off the various genres conflated in their blitzkrieg of sound, but even though the haunted amalgamation might be a clever innovation, it’s hardly worth any words of appraisal. As the fellow once said, that’d be like dancing about architecture. Pecking Order doesn’t deserve that; it deserves slopping a pint of bitter down the front of your best straight jacket. It’s fun, mental, and I’m not entirely sure what else.
For fans of: Blue drink, tethered Alsatians, lovely, lumpy chicken and the odd post-modern theory about capitalism conformity destroying the notion of any alternative for the future.
A concluding comment from Leonard Cohen: ‘Porq’ is the song I wish I had written.
Pecking Order track by track:
Release date: January 17th | Producer: Perfect Chicken Label: Nil By Mouth Records
‘Heifur’: A heavy and heady punk opening that swaggers with more attitude than Piers Morgan after a big fat line. Welcome to a new world, it seems to say; if only the vocal was a bit more defined in the mix so you could hear what they were saying. [3.5/5]
‘Comet’: A new modern northern marching song. It takes an age-old folk technique of mounting the tempo towards a crescendo and renders it absurd. It is here where the influence of Vic and Bob is most keenly felt. [3.5/5]
‘Amber Life’: The wavering continues with a denser, darker Bad Brains covering the Buzzcocks sound coming to the fore. ‘Ey up duck and other such phrases add a lovely regionalism to the mania that is at once refreshing and comforting—these might be genuine madmen if this was America. [4/5]
‘Daily Rag’: A classic scuzzy indie effort reminiscent of my very own childhood—and surely that of many others. Somehow, this snapshot of garage rock is a hefty dose of nostalgia. And they’ve even got a more traditional chorus up their sleeve. [3.5/5]
‘Porq’: More manic than a penguin in a microwave. Undoubtedly an absolute annoyance bomb if you’re in the wrong mood, but live, it’ll be a laugh. [3/5]
‘Hog’: The fucklessness of the masked trio reaches new heights as a megaphone enters the mix, and a Bolschivist band seems to provide the backing. The result is an eerie, disturbing and wonderfully original corker. [4.5/5]
‘Knight Knight’: A demented chant with a vaguely German accent brings up a stark invocation that we’ll kindly skip over. [4/5]
‘Trauma’: Once again, they return to a more traditionally indie sound, with the polyphonic-like synthesisers bringing to mind the crate of rotten memories that is a childhood in the rough woods of Britain. [4/5]
‘Baby’: By its own strange design, it goes out with neither a bang nor a whimper. In truth, it could well be a one-star, but I may as well give it four. [4/5]
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