Kid Sister

Ultra Violet
February 8, 2010

I want to start this review by saying I don’t think this album is good. It’s bad, but in the best way possible. It’s like a Big Mac. You know it’s bad for you, and that it’ll probably leave you feeling a bit sick, but after ten beers there’s nothing more satisfying to chuck down your gob.

Kid Sister sort of sits somewhere between Lady Gaga and The Cool Kids, with a healthy dose of Kanye West thrown in, with Mr Gay Fish actually featuring on the album. So why is it good I hear you ask? Well, simply put I can’t remember hearing any mainstream pop releases that had us much oomph as this. You feel like Kid Sister was jumping around the studio while making this, in between beating up a few guys for being a bunch o’ broke ass fools. She don’t take no shit I reckon.

There is none of that masquerading as a credible musician you feel you get from other pop artists, instead the album has it’s tongue so far driven into it’s cheek that you can’t help but laugh and dance at the same time.

The production puts most mainstream dance acts to shame and Kid Sister has a vocal delivery as gritty and in your face as a Kings Cross junkie begging for change when he’s jonesing for a fix. Seriously, I’m not saying this is art, but if you don’t at least nod your head when you hear this album, you might want to see a doctor, ’cause you might be dead.

There are a few moments when she loses her impact, trading it in for a sort of Empire Of The Sun or MGMT-esque airy electro bullshit. The best example of this is ‘Daydreaming’, featuring Cee-Lo, which almost ruins the album, but hey it’s not ruining much so who cares.

‘You Ain’t Really Down’ however is an example of Kid Sister losing the grimey awesomeness of the album for something almost better, with her dropping into a engineered, harmony littered piece of R’n’B wank, sort of like En Vogue if anyone reading this is old enough to remember that monstrosity of a band. The song is saved though by the super old school beats and samples, that sound like they might’ve been taken out of Mortal Combat or Streetfighter or something.

As far as standouts on the album, the first two tracks ‘Right Hand Hi’ and ‘Life On TV’ both pack a gritty punch, wrapped in sickly sweet candy, while ‘Pro Nails’ is well worth a listen for Kanye’s verse (which includes a reference to how big his cock is) and the awesomely stupid samples and dirty production.

All up if you want some decent music this isn’t for you, but if you like your cheesy pop as I do, you’ll love this record. It has all the accessibility and dance-ability of Britney or Beyonce, just with a whole fucking truckload of attitude thrown in, and if there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s women who don’t take shit.