Big city neurosis rears its head in multitudes. In the case of NOT SOUP (a band of staggering multitudes), neurosis forms in progressive, Hot Rats-ised interpretations of post-punk unique to the genre’s modern wave.
Frontwoman Janique James makes surreal depictions of social-systemic injustice that drizzles into everyday life, that coaches the lowly office worker into acts of beautiful civil disobedience. She vies to pick the establishment apart, brick by brick, with a one-of-a-kind vocal charisma that is panicking, neurotic, and ultimately cursive. The band’s recordings are lovingly unfiltered, consistent in capturing Jane’s magic (especially on new EP Fridge Your Biscuits), though to catch the full brunt, I’d recommend seeing them live. They’re always about; go see ‘em.
The most punk thing you can do is not stick to anybody else’s script, no matter what expectation one may have of anyone with an ideology – musically-speaking, in this instance – rooted in punk. There is something so rawly English about that, about exchanging unglitzy simplicity for NOT SOUP’s prodigious playing, comprised heavily of harsh mathematics and intense riffs that form strange, tuneful puzzles. Think Gang of Four drunk on Bitches Brew; an assuming angularity stomped out suddenly by tangling guitar leads with minds of their own, drums that guide difficult rhythms, and itchy basslines that would consider it a disservice to just play a few root notes. The cherry on top – or ‘whack to the face on top’ – is Jane’s voice.
As implied, the Fridge Your Biscuits EP is a good snapshot of the band’s ambitions and application. The KKK Song is fiery and moving, built on a number of differentiating guitar tones – none of which sound out of place – and a commentary on the fetishisation of black women by racist men, and modern expectations of the “strong, independent black woman”. Flesh is a tale – cautionary or otherwise – of synthetic, psychedelic drugs supremely matched by its heavy psych styling. The band mixes up the time signatures like medicine on both of these songs, whilst Jane souls it, yells it, and revisits early femme punk.
There is nothing quite like NOT Soup; buncha smart, skilful bastards. The Brummie band’s ceiling is as high as the skyscraper epics Jane, Sam, Snoop and Chris assemble together.
