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"... fully lame band of shitty broads with zero talent" — "Anonymous," Brooklyn Vegan
Ever since Atlanta's ragtag lady-punk foursome the Coathangers first picked up instruments and started making a racket in the summer of 2007, their caterwauling three-chord assaults have been easy targets. They quickly earned a rep as a band of obnoxious girls — a stereotype they played into with the shrill yap of such juvenile rants as "Don't Touch My Shit" and "Nestle in My Bobbies." The music was simple and sloppy; a one-trick pony. They leapt into the local fray with very little musical ability, coasting on the charisma of a group of girls who just wanted to have fun playing out-of-tune punk jams. Even though their self-titled debut was the first album released by Rob's House Records — the venerated Atlanta punk staple that set the standard for primitive three-chord garage-punk — Coathangers lacked the chops of peers Carbonas, Black Lips, and Gentleman Jesse. And to this day, they've failed to earn the same level of respect.
Of the hundreds of bands I've written about for Creative Loafing over the years, Coathangers are the one that people still elbow me about and ask, "What do you really think?" The group thrives despite relentless sexist attacks on its sound and appearance — including the kind of petty, mean-spirited bashing its male contemporaries would never have to endure. "They all have zooey deschanel hair," one Brooklyn Vegan blog commenter wrote about Stephanie Luke, Meredith Franco, Julia Kugel, and Candice Jones. Imagine how absurd it would sound if Brooklyn Vegan's peanut gallery said that about Atlanta power-pop rockers Gentleman Jesse and His Men? And some of those dudes actually have Zooey Deschanel hair! Rising above such double standards is probably what drove Coathangers to embrace punk rock in the first place. Even in the early days, when they couldn't play their instruments, they never flaunted their gender to disguise it. They owned their musical inexperience and had fun with it. They were the only band to cut their teeth in the Rob's House scene that went on to sign a deal with a legitimate label, Seattle's Suicide Squeeze. Since then they've fleshed out a visceral, buzzsaw-punk creep that culminates in such songs as "Stop Stomp Stompin'," "Hurricane," and "Trailer Park Boneyard" — caustic ditties that do their basement punk roots justice while carrying them around the world. Never mind the respectable 7.6 review Pitchfork gave their latest album, Larceny & Old Lace, Coathangers have succeeded on their own terms. — Chad Radford
"your favorite local atlanta band sucks"
Thanks for reading, and thanks for the catch!
Tues, Dec 31st. Not 21st.
Innovative & fresh sound !!!
Too many memories. I remember we were smoking meth on the back patio and a…