by Jeremy Winslow (@_pbnjer)
After signing to Epitaph Records in March, Philadelphia punk quartet Mannequin Pussy comes through with a visceral ten track album that is both aggressive and contemplative. The four-piece’s third full-length record, Patience, is an effortless display of femme power, unbridled rage, and candid introspection. Despite its short 26-minute runtime, Mannequin Pussy’s Patience is an open book into the mind of a woman who has been and is becoming, a diary of sorts that sees guitarist and vocalist Marisa Dabice explore past memories and possible futures in a bid to figure this shit called life out. It’s loud, it’s messy, it’s unhinged, but Patience manages to be thoughtful in its sloppiness and proficient in its brevity.
Patience, as a state of being, is typically seen as a “passive” or “weak” trait, a characteristic usually attributed to women. Men are rowdy and quick-tempered; women are patient and soft-spoken—or so say conservative gender conventions. Mannequin Pussy flips those normalities on their head by presenting an album that is at once rowdy and soft-spoken, commanding both empathy and respect. The title track and album-opener, “Patience,” is emblematic of these spectrums: starting on the quieter side, with Dabice’s airy voice carried by a steady, bouncy tempo before exploding into distortion and feedback and shouting. The track, one of the many that clocks in at barely two minutes, sets the record’s tone, showcasing Mannequin Pussy’s new-found tendencies toward alternative rock.
The band doesn’t want you to forget it’s primarily a punk outfit, and Patience has no shortage of punk rock. The album’s third track, “Cream,” is so antagonizing and confrontational it’s sweat-inducing—and not just because Dabice is yelling, though the abrasiveness in her voice, all caustic and scratchy, makes it feel towering. As the song races through a pounding verse, replete with a thumping rhythm and shouted vocals backed by heavy, distorted guitars, Dabice weaves a narrative about questioning your actions and challenging your mentality. She does the same to gender conventions on “Drunk I,” a biting song that slices halfway through the album with its feedback-rich guitars, thunderous drums, and high-pitched screams. “What kind of woman would you rather I be? / Docile and waiting’ to bred?” Dabice yells, presumably with a middle finger in tow. Themes like these, insecurity and behavior and love and worth, crop up all over Patience.
Despite persistent themes that err on the negative side, Mannequin Pussy, at Patience’s core, wants you to be in love with yourself for who you are and with life for what it is. The album’s seventh track, “Who You Are,” sees the band lean into those alt-rock soundscapes; with glossy melodies and shimmering tambourines, Dabice demands you be ok with yourself behind a poppy rhythm not unlike fellow label mates Joyce Manor. “Oh, who taught you to hate the way you are? / If I were you, there’s not a thing I would restart / I love who you are,” she sings on the chorus before saying, repeatedly, that it’s ok if you stay the same. The band really hammers home the themes of love and acceptance, especially of the individual self, on the final track. On “In Love Again,” Dabice reflects on falling in love. “And it keeps gettin’ better,” she sings on the bridge leading up to the chorus, exploding into a jam session led by a piercing lead guitar. It’s a touching moment in the track listing, indicating that even the broken can, with enough love and patience and acceptance of live’s ups and downs, can be in love again.