Rocker (feedbot)
Gold Member
“Things I did when I was seventeen still haunt me in my dreams,” sings Millie Manders, cross-genre punk firebrand, in an opening line which perfectly sets up the vulnerability and upfront attitude of her sophomore album with the Shutup, ’Wake Up, Shut Up, Work’. One of the leading lights of the homegrown DIY punk scene, Millie Manders and the Shutup are commanding more and more attention across the board, and it’s easy to see why. However, it’s not just Manders’ honesty which makes this album such a compulsive listen, though positioning herself as the everywoman doesn’t hurt. It’s her willingness to say what needs to be said, whether it’s criticising the emotional vampires, acknowledging her own mistakes or reminding us that adding a brass section to a punk track isn’t a sin.
Let’s clear up the chequered elephant in the room first; this isn’t a ska album. There’s obviously nothing wrong with making two-tone music, and the Shutup have toured with Less Than Jake as well as sharing the stage with the Slackers at last year’s Rebellion Festival. While Manders hasn’t exactly distanced herself from her skanking past, the brass section is used very tactically, adding sparkle to ‘One That Got Away’ and a bonus gutsy dimension to the intro of ‘Threadbare’. If anything, this is an album which proves the versatility of ska and how easily it can be woven into whatever form you want it to take – in this case, to drape a touch of tinsel to a solid punk sound.
Manders is that friend who will tell the guy bothering you at the bar to back off. It might be uncomfortable at the time, but it’s the truth and it benefits everyone to hear it. ‘Me Too’, the most political track on ‘Wake Up, Shut Up, Work’, is also perhaps the most important. “It doesn’t matter what we wear, it doesn’t matter how we speak. The conversation’s still the same; you blame the girl for being weak,” screams Manders in an unflinching tale of the aftermath of sexual assault, and there’s no place for politeness or flowery language when the message is this urgent. It’s the kind of song that you’ll slam to while feeling a renewed determination to make the world a more just and equal place, and gives voice to a female experience that still, somehow, needs to be discussed. Behind the scenes, Manders made it her mission to put her money where her political mouth is. “I have got women playing sax and trumpet and violin and cello,” says Manders. “Our next tour is going to have a woman photographer and sound engineer. In alternative music, there isn’t enough space for non-cis male people. I want to give opportunity to women, trans women and people that aren’t cis male in a part of the industry that is very male dominated.” It’s honestly heartening to see Manders’ endeavours shining so brightly, with the result a quality record that could never be accused of novelty or tokenism,
If we come for the pit potential, we’re staying for the emotional range and depth. ‘Halloween’ channels Blink 182 or Neck Deep at their most sensitive on a tender tale of a love lost as the seasons turn, complete with pop punk strings and a beautifully theatrical backing on the bridge. It’s the tongue-in-cheek ‘Fun Sponge’ that turns the dial back to humour, continuing the long pop-punk tradition of a thinly disguised diss track. Then you’ve got ‘Threadbare’, the deceptively cheery-sounding exploration of how awful it is to be dealing with the Cost of Living crisis, and ‘Can I Get Off?’s void-screaming in the face of endless media misery. Everything they describe is reliably relatable, and it’s Millie Manders and the Shutup’s normality that makes their music cut a bit deeper than you’d expect. Sure, escapism and dramatic fantasy takes on the world are fun, but when we need a slice-of-life with extra sprinkles, we know who we’re going to call.
This is going to be the album that takes the hard-working breakout stars into the mainstream. The combination of a DIY ethos, vocals like a melodic megaphone and a sarcastic sincerity offer plenty to pique even the most jaded punk’s interest, and once you’ve had your first taste of Millie Manders and the Shutup, you won’t be able to stay quiet about what you’ve heard.
KATE ALLVEY
Let’s clear up the chequered elephant in the room first; this isn’t a ska album. There’s obviously nothing wrong with making two-tone music, and the Shutup have toured with Less Than Jake as well as sharing the stage with the Slackers at last year’s Rebellion Festival. While Manders hasn’t exactly distanced herself from her skanking past, the brass section is used very tactically, adding sparkle to ‘One That Got Away’ and a bonus gutsy dimension to the intro of ‘Threadbare’. If anything, this is an album which proves the versatility of ska and how easily it can be woven into whatever form you want it to take – in this case, to drape a touch of tinsel to a solid punk sound.
Manders is that friend who will tell the guy bothering you at the bar to back off. It might be uncomfortable at the time, but it’s the truth and it benefits everyone to hear it. ‘Me Too’, the most political track on ‘Wake Up, Shut Up, Work’, is also perhaps the most important. “It doesn’t matter what we wear, it doesn’t matter how we speak. The conversation’s still the same; you blame the girl for being weak,” screams Manders in an unflinching tale of the aftermath of sexual assault, and there’s no place for politeness or flowery language when the message is this urgent. It’s the kind of song that you’ll slam to while feeling a renewed determination to make the world a more just and equal place, and gives voice to a female experience that still, somehow, needs to be discussed. Behind the scenes, Manders made it her mission to put her money where her political mouth is. “I have got women playing sax and trumpet and violin and cello,” says Manders. “Our next tour is going to have a woman photographer and sound engineer. In alternative music, there isn’t enough space for non-cis male people. I want to give opportunity to women, trans women and people that aren’t cis male in a part of the industry that is very male dominated.” It’s honestly heartening to see Manders’ endeavours shining so brightly, with the result a quality record that could never be accused of novelty or tokenism,
If we come for the pit potential, we’re staying for the emotional range and depth. ‘Halloween’ channels Blink 182 or Neck Deep at their most sensitive on a tender tale of a love lost as the seasons turn, complete with pop punk strings and a beautifully theatrical backing on the bridge. It’s the tongue-in-cheek ‘Fun Sponge’ that turns the dial back to humour, continuing the long pop-punk tradition of a thinly disguised diss track. Then you’ve got ‘Threadbare’, the deceptively cheery-sounding exploration of how awful it is to be dealing with the Cost of Living crisis, and ‘Can I Get Off?’s void-screaming in the face of endless media misery. Everything they describe is reliably relatable, and it’s Millie Manders and the Shutup’s normality that makes their music cut a bit deeper than you’d expect. Sure, escapism and dramatic fantasy takes on the world are fun, but when we need a slice-of-life with extra sprinkles, we know who we’re going to call.
This is going to be the album that takes the hard-working breakout stars into the mainstream. The combination of a DIY ethos, vocals like a melodic megaphone and a sarcastic sincerity offer plenty to pique even the most jaded punk’s interest, and once you’ve had your first taste of Millie Manders and the Shutup, you won’t be able to stay quiet about what you’ve heard.
KATE ALLVEY