And it further came to pass that in the waning years of the 20th century, a musical alliance of the distaff variety took up mortar and pestle to grind up those raw ingredients of punk and psychedelic rock with elements of catchy Brill Building pop and maximum R&B dance music. Their union came to be known as the Gore Gore Girls.
The Detroit quartet, under the guidance of singer-songwriter-guitarist Amy Surdu, is named after a 1972 horror/sexploitation film of the same name. Gore Gore Girls have released two full-length albums, but neither approaches the hybrid brilliance of this recent seven-song EP.
Just picture the Ronettes and the Marvelettes adding girl-group harmonies and sophisticated soulfulness to a pummeling, raw energy burst not unlike the music of the MC5 and the Stooges. Yes, the Gore Gore Girls are a girl group, but they are the Ramones to the Donnas' AC/DC; they're more Runaways and L7 than the Go-Gos and the Bangles.
No-brakes rockers such as "Casino" and "All Grown Up" share space with the R&B rave-up "Sweet Potato" (which turns the tables on guys, objectifying them as sex symbols) and the glorious lament "You Lied to Me," which is what Leslie Gore might've sounded like had she grown up playing New York Dolls LPs. In Gore we trust.