Skip to main contentThere's something, dare I say, democratic about the Soviettes that makes it just about impossible not to fall head over heels for 'em. It's in the way they package themselves: as a band second, friends first--the lifelong kind who will drink and laugh and cry and scream together for the rest of their lives. But more than that, it's in the way they straddle a stage, equidistant from one another, three fun-loving women (apologies to drummer Danny Henry) who can barely contain themselves for the two minutes it takes to rip through their little pieces of pop-punk perfection. Utopian Socialist perhaps, even Communist, but Soviet this ain't.
No one's in charge at a Soviettes concert. Guitarist Annie Holoien is usually in the middle (the de facto lead-singer position) between guitarists Sturgeon and Susy Sharp. By the look on her face you can tell her position is more a function of the troika than a power play. Holoien is far from dictatorial. In fact, the band has no lead singer ("Everybody sings," the album's notes declare)--the vox populi, you might say. The members share songwriting responsibilities, too, though words like "responsibility" don't really apply to a band that's having this much fun.
So it's appropriate to ask, in the face of so much punk-rock democracy, what's with the name? Is it ironic? Nah. Political? Certainly not. Apart from the Russian fonts on the cover of their debut, The Soviettes LP (Adeline), and the frozen Minneapolitan climate they call home, the Soviettes and the Bolsheviks are as similar as PBR and Stoli. Short, three-chord songs that stick to the ribs are their M.O.--the sort that get bands deals with Green Day lead singer Billy Joe Armstrong's Adeline Records, so long as they've got the skills and the attitude to back them up. These Midwesterners have both and then some. And though they've only got one record out (and two of them have never been in a band before), the Soviettes have been hanging around punk bars and basement shows long enough to know how to write a great song. After all, it's not like this is groundbreaking stuff. It's all verse-chorus-verse, and yet it feels fresh and alive. Their appeal lies in the fact that they can write a decent hook, and can barb it with smart lyrics that won't easily be dislodged from a listener's brain. I defy you to listen to "Matt's Song" without singing along.
Despite the hard-fast-loud formula the Soviettes so heartily embrace, they've also got a knack for the emotive and the sensitive. Sure, pop punk is no stranger to heart-on-the-sleeves sentimentality, but when the Soviettes do it there's none of that sleazy, Dashboard Confessional, I'm-being-sold-something feeling.
To be fair, the Soviettes do dabble in the political sphere now and then. There's a jab at the religious right in "Go Lambs Go," and "Clueless" comes right out and tells George W., "You and your daddy can fuck your red, white and blue." "Thin Ice" goes after the Iraq war with a doo-wop melody more suited for prom night than a protest, and "The Land of Clear Blue Radio" takes on Clear Channel.
When they're at the top of their game, the Soviettes are usually singing about all the great stuff that makes punk rock feel like perpetual teenhood: boys, girls, friends, hangin' out, lookin' good and bein' cool. The best song on The Soviettes LP, "9th St.," finds guitarist Sturgeon recalling her old stomping grounds with all the fuzzy nostalgia of a Wonder Years episode. "When I see that certain face again, it brings me back in time/ 9th street, please stay the same," she sings sweetly as Holoien backs her up with familiar "hey-heys" and "whoa-whoas" recalling equal parts Go-Go's and Rezillos.
But back to the band name. Where did it come from? As it turns out, the Soviettes' name doesn't really have anything to do with their politics or their music. They didn't even come up with it. Some dude at a Minneapolis coffee shop came up to Holoien a couple years ago and said, "I've got a great band name, but if I tell it to you, you've got to use it." So there you go: The soon-to-be biggest name in American pop punk, like much of the Soviettes' success so far, fell out of the sky. But to their credit, they've taken it and run. It's as simple as the lyrics to "The Land of Clear Blue Radio": "You're on a roll 'cuz you're rockin' the fast part/ You're on a roll 'cuz you rock it hard/ You're on a roll, kids all like it loud."
Indeed, they do.
The Soviettes play with Science of Yabra and Dead Like Dallas on Tuesday, Dec. 30, at the Twilight Cafe, 1420 SE Powell Blvd., 236-7668. 9 pm. 21+.
WWeek 2015