“No Obligation” (Epitaph Records)
By Eleni P. Austin
A few years ago, the buzz surrounding The LINDA LINDAS was deafening, but ultimately, well-deserved. The L.A. four-piece formed in 2018. Two sisters, a cousin and a close friend, half-Asian and half-Latinx, their ages ranged from 11 to 17. Bela was the oldest, Mila the youngest, Lucia and Eloise were in between. They initially played together as part of Kristen Kontrol’s pick-up cover band. During that show, they were joined onstage by Bobb and Bethany from Best Coast, as well as Karen O. from the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.
By the time they settled on The LINDA LINDAS as a moniker (an homage to the song “Linda Linda,” by iconic Japanese Punk band The Blue Hearts), they had shared the stage with L.A. legends like Alice Bag, The Dils, The Alley Cats, The Last and Phranc. Soon enough they were tapped to open for Riot Grrrl progenitors Bikini Kill for a reunion show at The Palladium.
Actress and director Amy Pohler was in the audience that night. Having just signed on to direct and co-star in the Netflix film Moxie, she asked the band to perform and sing their original music for Moxie. Even as the pandemic shut down live performances, the band began recording a self-released, self-titled EP. When Moxie began streaming in 2021, their song “Racist, Sexist Boy” went viral, and The LINDA LINDAS were signed by the venerable Indie Punk label. Epitaph.
Their first official long-player, Growing Up, arrived in 2022 to glowing reviews and brisk sales. Not only did Bela Salazar (guitar/vocals), Eloise Wong (bass/piano/vocals) and sisters Lucia (guitar/vocals) and Mila de la Garza (drums/percussion/vocals) rock hard, but their music embraced cultural diversity and gender equality. The band hit the road, opening for the likes of Best Coast and Bleached and most recently a stadium tour with Green Day. Now, they’ve returned with their hard-charging follow-up, No Obligation.
The album kicks into gear with the thrashy goodness of the title-track. Careening out of the speakers at warp speed, slashing guitars collide with punishing bass lines and a jackhammer beat. Eloise is front and center, her snarling vocals wrap around lyrics that offer a stinging rebuke of social hypocrisy: “You’d like me better if they don’t stare, you’d like me better if I grew out my hair, you’d like me better if I wasn’t a mess, you’d like me better if I put on a dress.” Jaggy lead guitar salvos detonate like smart bombs on the bridge as the arrangement locks into a high velocity attack before quickly powering down.
While the songwriting duties were evenly divided on the first record, with this one, there’s a bit more collaboration. Three songs are credited to the band as a whole. The sweet-sour “Too Many Things” is anchored by throbbing bass, a stuttery beat and search-and-destroy guitars. Lyrics like “Too many things, taken away, not enough things left in my brain, there’s always so much push-pull, these parts they’re not making a whole,” bemoan the sensory overload that feels unavoidable in the 21st century.
“Resolution/Revolution” is a jolt of teen rebellion as potent as the Sex Pistols’ “Anarchy In The U.K.,” as bratty as Ramones’ “Beat On The Brat” and as sepulchral as The Cramps’ “Human Fly.” Marauding guitars are matched propulsive handclaps, shuddery bass and a slap-back beat. Spooktacular backing vocals ratchet up the tension as lyrics tender a treatise toward claiming a seat at the table: “This is no resolution, this is a revolution, you and me, we’re just playing the long game.” The infectious chorus nearly camouflages their withering contempt for authority: “You don’t know how to face it, your arguments are baseless, you don’t have any takes and your sympathy is wasted.”
With “Lose Yourself,” crunchy power chords leap-frog jittery bass lines and a chunky backbeat. Caustic lyrics confront a duplicitous ex: “Something kinda funny, words actually hit, aren’t you kind of worn out, aren’t you sick of it? One-two-three, strikes you’re out, now nobody wins, faking each intention with a calculating grin.”
Lucia’s songs inch the band past their Punktastic perimeters, pointing them toward in a Pure Power-Pop direction. Take “All In My Head,” which lands somewhere between the ‘60s swoon of The Shangri-Las and the ‘90s angst of that dog. Shards of guitar jangle and chime atop shivery bass and a rat-a-tat beat. Confessional verses like “I’m in a state of grace, it’s my privilege to say I’m in no place to lose, I’m a casualty of years spent waiting for some kind of sign to tell me to do with my time,” are mirrored by explosive choruses that forge a solitary path: “I like it better when it’s all in my head, I like it better cause at least I’m not dead, I’m getting better cause that’s what I’m supposed to do, and nobody knows the pain I’m going through, I’m getting better cause that’s what I’m supposed to do.”
Conversely, stripped-down guitars and boinging bass ride roughshod over a scattershot beat on “Don’t Think.” Lyrics recognize we’re all wired a little differently: “Sometimes things that are fun are not fun for me, sometimes I cannot live with reality, and you make me sick, but at least we agree that everybody’s never gonna be a thing like me.” On the break, riffs recoil with rapid-fire precision. Taunting “he-he-hee” harmonies leaven the deadly disquiet, but the final couplet questions if conformity is the only way toward acceptance: “Don’t think too much about it, and don’t look inside my head, they told us don’t be basic, they meant be relatable instead.”
Meanwhile, “Once Upon A Time” is The Linda Lindas at their most effortless and agile. Ricocheting riffs dart across boomerang bass lines and a walloping beat. Rather than unpack the right or wrong of an argument, perspicacious lyrics long for détente: “It’s not about screaming, it’s not about trying to hide, I’m trying to see how they see me, I’m trying to see what they like, and why are they all so angry, I hate picking sides, it’s just like they say in the stories, once upon a time.”
Eloise is afforded as much bandwidth as Lucia, penning the opening cut, as well as “Cartographers” and “Excuse Me.” On the former, snarly, staccato guitar coils around thumping bass and a knockabout beat as lyrics attempt to navigate the rocky shoals of adolescence with patience and perseverance: “And we don’t know which way to go, wait it out and tiptoe, and I don’t know which way to go, but it’ll be okay, I know, it just takes time.”
The latter opens deceptively with see-saw guitars, rubbery bass and brawny beat, before shapeshifting into a squally, scabrous screed. Lyrics launch an aggressive assault on transphobia: Excuse me, sir, you don’t seem so tough, when will it ever be enough? Decide they don’t like what they see, why do they care where I choose to pee?” Spiky guitars ping-pong through the break with a Prog-Rock precision, adding yet another color to their sonic palette.
Other interesting tracks include the Flamenco-flavored stomp of “Yo Me Estresso,” and the downstroke nostalgia of “Nothing Would Change.” The album closes with the infectious “Stop.” Powered by a caffeinated backbeat, strummy guitars and angular bass, lyrics exorcise a toxic presence: “You seem to enjoy creating all these disasters, but it’s not too cool to be a harasser…stop what you’re doing, stop what you’re saying, stop what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, what you’re saying won’t you STOP?” It’s a stinging finish to a truly great album.
As the final weeks of 2024 wind down and most sentient humans are filled with dread and despair at the prospect of a new (yet all-to-familiar) despotic dynasty, music can still offer a bit of catharsis. The LINDA LINDAS follow a trail blazed by L.A. Punk/Garage-Pop progenitors like The Bags, The Go-Go’s, The Bangles and Bleached. The distaff Punk energy displayed on No Obligation is matched crisp, catchy melodies and lyrics that are equal parts snotty and sharp. It’s a potent tonic for the dystopian days to come.
