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WHEN THEY released Haxel Princess in 2014, two-thirds of Cherry Glazerr’s members were still in high school. The Los Angeles band’s snarling full-length debut unleashed the uniquely formidable rage of teenage girls via razorblade guitar riffs and Clementine Creevy’s alternating mix of coyote yowls and detached, playful ghost whispers. Haxel Princess captivates for a number of reasons, like the ooey-gooey seduction of “Grilled Cheese”; simple but perfect lyrics like “All my friends are cool and nice/all my friends are made out of sugar and spice”; and period anthem “White’s Not My Color This Evening,” one of the most accurate songs ever penned about menstruation.
But in 2017, Cherry Glazerr is basically a different band—Creevy, now 19, is the only remaining original member (she’s joined by drummer Tabor Allen and multi-instrumentalist Sasami Ashworth). Last month the reborn three-piece released Apocalipstick, 11 tracks of radioactive rock that seem to have risen from the fallout of something—adolescence, soured romance, self-destruction, or any combination of the three. Here Cherry Glazerr sheds its old skin, revealing fresh venom and a newfound radio-ready sheen, likely the result of Grammy Award-winning producer Joe Chiccarelli’s experienced hand.
Some lyrics overextend into clichés or gimmicky topicality (see “Instagratification”), and despite the shell-shocked imagery, Apocalipstick doesn’t quite match the calculating impact of Haxel Princess. But Cherry Glazerr made a great record—“Sip o’ Poison” sounds like a scooter chase through hell, and standout track “Nuclear Bomb” is a roughed-up pop confessional that features spacey keyboard effects and the line “all the stars are swimming in a bathtub” (what could it mean?!). Last time I saw them play was at the Smell in LA, and I got the wind knocked out of me from some youth’s swift elbow to my ribs. But it was totally worth it—Cherry Glazerr is just that good.
