Review Summary: In Summer Girls, Super Snake have reminded this generation what 'swagger' is all about.
Jerry Jones, lead singer of Super Snake, has become somewhat of a Sputnik favourite with his other band; Trophy Scars. Combining slick lyrics with pounding guitars and blues influences has lent itself to a unique sound that has led to some incredibly high praise for the band. But while Trophy Scars may have moved away from their more hardcore roots over time, Jerry Jones seemingly still wants to let the world know that he's pissed. Jones has recruited ex-members from I Am Heresy and Chambers and together they've crafted an album that is unrelenting, passionate, and dripping with swagger. And that is the success story of 'Summer Girls'. Across its 4 tracks it rarely relents from a ferocious pace that in the hands of less skilled band members may have appeared monotonous or droning. But Super Snake manage to infuse their tracks with an 'I don't give a ***' swagger that banishes monotony and makes each track a unique experience that grabs you by the balls and refuses to let go.
Even when the band do slow down it lasts for but a moment, as with the start of ‘Anton Chigurh’ where the opening 40 seconds are reminiscent of classic western movies and the songs they inspired. Wolves howl in the background and piercing twangs ring out; you’d be forgiven for believing that Super Snake had considered the expected slower track. That perhaps, they’d let you breathe for a moment. Not on this EP. The guitars soon roar into life and Jones’s often opinion-dividing vocals burst out of the background.
Oh, those vocals.
Jones is once again at his best on ‘Summer Girls’. At a moment’s notice he can flip from his grainy scream-esque yells into a haunting and svelte, almost poetic tone. The real triumph though is that in combination with the lyrics, he somehow still retains a sense of menace that positively seeps from his words. “I dragged your body, across splintered floors” From most peoples lips these words would seem conceited, forced. But Jones delivers them with a candid malice that is almost worrying and that transcends the rampaging guitars and drums that froth in the background.
It’s hard to look at Super Snake and ‘Summer Girls’ without comparing them with Trophy Scars. In many ways the band feels like a step back; there’s less experimentation with instruments, less variety in track style, and while Jones’s vocals are still exemplary they don’t get to shine quite as much as they have with Trophy Scars. However, you won’t care. Super Snake is Trophy Scars after 10 pints of Guinness and looking for a bar fight. It’s dirty and dripping with sex and violence. It’s a lesson to every band out there on how to combine being supremely cool with a hardcore sound.
