Well. My riot grrrl heart is very happy today.
Those of you who’ve been following me for a while know punk rock is my first love. Still the one genre that reliably turns me into a screeching squirrel on a double espresso.
So apologies for what’s next, because Karen Dió’s second EP, Fugaz, might well have bumped my usual order up to a triple.
Fugaz. HA. I know that one, meu. Fleeting. Short-lived. The kind of title that tells you exactly what you’re in for before a single note plays. Karen Dió’s second EP is out today via Hopeless Records, it runs about as long as it takes to brew yourself a proper cup of coffee, and it has absolutely no interest in hanging around.
That cover sums up the whole record in one picture. Six songs kicking whatever stands in the way, and probably your sorry (punk or not) arse along with it.
Quite fitting, isn’t it?
If you’re into Lambrini Girls or Die Spitz, you’ll be immediately sold. And for my people right at the back – yes, you, three days deep into the anti-inflammatories because seventeen seconds of moshing seemed like a reasonable idea at the time – there’s a little touch of Amyl and the Sniffers here that will send you straight back in there. See you in the pit. Bring the meds.
And I know this will even convince the die-hard punks. I know because I tried it on a few. We’re home, dickheads.
Sick Ride turned up on my shuffle earlier this year, and, for once in its miserable life, the algorithm did its damn job. Straight down the rabbit hole to My World, mere months before this second one got announced. For those keeping track, I know. Again? For everyone else, that’s just my superpower, getting into new artists right before they release new material. I’m not saying they’re doing it for me – I’m not Gen Z enough for that – I’m just saying I’ve got impeccable timing.
Will I ever stop taking you on a thousand detours before taking you to the point? Don’t count on it. And I haven’t even finished brewing that.. oh wait.
Fine. Coffee’s ready. Let’s do this.
Fugaz. You brace for the energy and the shredding, and you get both. What you don’t see coming is how polished the whole thing sounds. Yeah, it’s very punk, but also, a lot more? Hmm.
Like little sprinkles of pop rock on top of the spite. Interesting.
And maybe that’s exactly why parts of this thing land like our dear old 00s mixtapes, the ones that all featured Queen Avril somewhere around track four. It will definitely take you back. Consider that a warning or a promise, whichever suits you.
But here’s the thing, and the very one that makes this record work: she’s after eternal youth, not nostalgia. The kind that comes from having lived a bit rather than from wishing you were seventeen again. Big difference. All those signature markers you recognize get mixed with her own eclectic environment until they define something new that just sounds like… her.
Euphoria sets the tone immediately, and it doesn’t ask politely. Those soaring, fast melodies feel like a race car picking up speed on an empty desert road – nothing ahead, nothing behind, just the pedal going down. Oh, that’s gonna be a fun ride, alright. Big woosh. It’s almost danceable, which you don’t necessarily expect from an opener this fast, and the whole thing is built on the feeling of being tied to absolutely nothing. Freedom is the theme of this entire record, and she puts it right there in the first track, in the music itself, before even the full chorus hits.
Free Yourself takes that feeling and turns it into a rallying cry. This one was released back in June and works great as one solid single, but in the context of the EP, it sharpens into something with an actual target: the numbness, the monotony, and the slow rot of accepting things as they are. Turns out being a deviant might be the healthiest option available to us. Damn. I kinda like that girl.
The anger surfaces properly on Choke. Spoken passages, electronic textures, and then the whole thing detonating back into life. It’s fun and it’s mean and it’s over before you’ve finished deciding how you feel about it, and I already know the pit is going to be an absolute disaster area on this one. In the best way.
Then Crawling shows up and gives you a second to breathe first (oh, but wait for it), softer drums, a softer voice, and the pain sitting much closer to the surface than anywhere else here. It doesn’t stay that way. That gritty screamy chorus is so damn good, and what really makes it work is how smartly she uses it, giving the whole thing consistency instead of being, well, annoying. Post-punk vibe, maybe? I don’t know. It sure reminds me of a song I once heard.
No. Not that one.
OKAY. Rat Race goes straight into the running playlist, no discussion. One of those tracks that takes over your senses and pushes all the right buttons until you go into automatic bouncing and your body has decided to do a bunch of uncoordinated shit well before your brain catches up. There’s real teeth in it too. Remember those arses probably getting kicked? Well, there are a number of those right here, and damn, girl, you go. She’s not standing in anyone’s corner of the pit. She’s the one running through the middle of it. Gosh, I really like this one.
And Fugaz closes it. An intro so grungy it sent me straight into Nirvana territory, with quiet verses and a chorus that goes off with heavier guitars that might make you growl softly. The title track pulls the whole thing back around itself, the way a good closer should. You can’t keep any of it forever, so you might as well enjoy it while it’s here.
Because underneath all of it, the theme is freedom, all the way through. And freedom is a lovely idea but a genuinely complicated journey. Beneath those enticing sounds sits a whole myriad of feelings, which is, after all, what punk has always been about for those who know how to listen.
Raw emotions. A kaleidoscope of experiences blending pain and joy in a way anyone can recognize, and a blazing will to keep going. Out of hope, out of spite? I never quite figured it out, but if age taught me something, it is that it doesn’t truly matter, as long as you make your voice heard.
Punk rock is like life itself. A freaking mess, and more often than not that chaos is exactly the fuel you need to move forward.
Fugaz covers all the bases of what Karen Dió can do without ever feeling like a catalogue of skills, which is a much harder trick to pull off than it looks. There are some proper songs on here, and definitely a great intro to everything she’s capable of. Intriguing enough to leave you wanting more, and in my book, that’s usually always a good sign.
Six tracks. One cup of coffee. Gone before you’re ready for it to be. Don’t be greedy and burn your tongue, though. It’s not because it’s short that it can’t be enjoyed.
Speaking of things to enjoy, she’s bringing it to the UK in September. Go, buy that ticket, and report back in detail. Yes, I’m jealous. No, I’m not over it. Ugh.
Oh well, in the meantime
Alexa, play Rat Race, please.
