The Trucks’ self-titled album is a consciousness-raising, therapeutic jam session that sounds like the musical lovechild of riot grrrls Sleater-Kinney and gay glam-rockers Scissor Sisters. The foursome’s first outing makes the personal political by letting off steam about subjects as varied as emotionally distant lovers, the politics of neighborhood bullies, sexual assault and concepts of beauty. No single song sounds like the next, showing off the band’s ability to be creative and engaging.
The song “Zombie” gets you on your feet with the girls asking: “If this is the end, would you die not dancing?” and “Man Voice” is an eerie ballad reminiscent of Lolita’s captivity in Nabokov’s classic novel. Despite the often-heavy topics, their good humor is evident in their wardrobe (often corsets and fishnets) and their lyrics (“You’re always talking shit/Your mouth just never quits”).
This band that began in response to a music festival’s conspicuous lack of women performers could be the cool older girls who grew up next-door to you and who you always wanted to be more like.