If we live in an age where originality is judged by the clever combination of previously explored ideas, is it brave to claim that a new kind of music has been pioneered, or is it just plain ignorant?
Such arguments are fruitless in the case of Italy’s Miss Violetta Beauregarde, whose primal instinct is to keep pushing buttons – both literally and figuratively – until everything catastrophically breaks apart. It’s an addictive destruction, the kind of chaos that makes you want to clench your teeth and break chairs over people’s faces and eat candy and stuff.
Self-produced and brimming with the kind of speaker-rattling bass that’s best appreciated in three-wheel motion, Miss Violetta Beauregarde’s second album, Odi Profanum Vulgus Et Arceo (a famous Latin phrase meaning I hate the common crowd and I spurn them) is an abstract force to behold. Constructed from fractured electronics, earth-shaking rhythms and throat-ripping screams, each song is a self-contained temper tantrum. And if you think this is damaged, you should see her bruised limbs after one of her infamous live shows. Never before has someone had so much fun being so pissed off. We affectionately refer to this as grind-hop; half Volkswagen Thing, half Cadillac Escalade.
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