By Giant Drag
With my lip positioned in a nonchalant snarl, my hair suitably sweeping over my right mascara enhanced eye, head tilted back on an angle standing in front of the mirror - I was ready for Giant Drag.
The band are an oxymoron in themselves. Annie Hardy, guitar and vocals, face and body encapsulated by cherub-like innocence of a 15 year old school girl, mind and mouth, filthy, gritty, loin stirring brilliance. Micah Calabrese, drums and synthesizer simultaneously, the stripes to Annie's socks.
"This Isn't It", the anti-love song melds the three piece, Micah's left hand on the synthesizer counts as a separate instrument apparently, into a consummately cohesive strut inducing sound.
You can imagine Annie flicking her head from side to side in an amalgamation of the 60's pop era, Warhol prints, the 'indie nod' and a child posing for their annual school photograph, whilst the sexual deviant beneath utters the chorus: "Love, love, love. This isn't it."
Woozy guitars scream underneath her, at the same time as drum beats making you move your upper body back and forth, you flick you head backwards. You will now believe anything Annie says.