Vaudeville pop is tough.
One mis-step and you sound like a tedious Edinburgh Fringe comedy troupe – the kind that does Clash songs in the style of Gilbert and Sullivan.
When it’s done right – as in the case of Friends Of ANBAD, Louis Barabbas and the Bedlam Six – it’s entirely enticing: simply because, deep down in every human heart, lies a desire for debauched theatricality.
I will understand if Says She’s Ms. Blat are offended by being lumped into the Debauched Vaudeville camp, but it fits. The band also manages to eradicate any whiff of tweeness by marrying – somehow – the knockabout fun of a stage show with punkish, hip-hop pacing.
Violent Nudity is a superb name for a song which is, in turn, lusty, creepy, loving and dangerous.
It’s almost tiresome to label singer Lottie Leymarie as fiesty – but she is, and deftly treads that razor thin line between music hall nodding-and-winking and endearing fuck-you attitude.
Says She’s Ms. Blat are spinning convention until it is dizzy – and while you may not think their music is directed at you, your gut – lusty for whisky and facepaint – will know otherwise.