By Ramon Ramirez
Editor’s note: This article was originally published March 12, 2014
Syracuse, N.Y.’s, Perfect P cautiously tip-toed to the National Public Radio showcase Tuesday night at Stubb’s. Palatable punk for prototypical nonconformists ensued.
The five-piece was starkly melodic and easy to like, "Thank you for having us," singer Meredith Graves said early on into the 20-minute bundle, "We’re terrified."
Perfect P dispensed tightly helmed chaos that hit all of the right dissent-laden notes. They looked the part:
The guitar player sported fellow SXSW punk performers Tweens’ hoodie; the bassist was sleeveless and bearded; the friendly but firm drummer would probably perform whatever genre of music his bros were into; the bookish and bespectacled multi-instrumentalist had a really cool Macklemore haircut.
The noise was rowdy but surprisingly melodic. Shades of Long Island’s long-rendered irrelevant post-punk bands like Glassjaw shone. Graves is a hell of a lead—but man did some of her moves recall the post-Jagger flailing of Glassjaw’s Darly Palumbo. Tequila shot spitting—think The Bled’s 2003 bender of an LP, "Pass the Flask," or "Burn Piano Island Burn" from Blood Brothers, but with the volatile (unsustainable?) fury of Be Your Own Pet.
It’s furious feedback and if my biggest gripe is that the songs are too well fleshed out, I’m happy to give them another half-hour.