2001's Jennie Bomb portrayed Sahara Hotnights as a scrappy petty theft street gang. Their pug faces smudged and newsboy caps on backwards, Mouth (Maria Andersson), Muscle (Josephine Forsman), and those grudge-holding sisters Jennie and Johanna Asplund (they never forget a face!) searched the crowd for rubes and never stepped down from a fight. "Alright Alright", "On Top of Your World", "Fall Into Line"-- the Swedish quartet rocked with backs to the wall, as though they'd miss the blindside left hook if they didn't strip their music down to the gristle. Her little gang could be stuffed in the back of a squad car on the way to the clink and Andersson would still be flailing, fists clenched, and trying to kick out the windscreen.
Between 2001 and 2003, she and the Hotnights strengthened their grip. They kept turning up on countless Hives and Mooney Suzuki support slots; they put a lot of sweat through vintage tees; and they proved to the naysayers that they weren't a novelty. And yet, as powerful and legit as they were, Sahara Hotnights still had an identity crisis. Hate to say I told you so, but in the U.S. at least, a combo of foxy Swedish girls playing flinty rock 'n' roll puts dollar signs in the dead eyes of A&R; flacks. Luckily, the band's big-time debut doesn't feature any Dianne Warren writing credits or Matrix-like makeovers. Kiss & Tell might be ridiculously catchy-- the perfect package for a world where chicks with attitude rock the Maybelline-- but it's still based in reality, and serves the band's strongest statement yet.
Whereas Jennie Bomb never took its fist out of your face, Kiss & Tell leaves room around its hardened core for engaging subtlety. Opener "Who Do You Dance For?" crackles with Fender swagger, but incorporates a 50s sock-hop chorus and slight new-wave overtones. "Hot Night Crash" is a great example of the old "puttin'-our-name-in-the-song" trick, but it's also a chance for the band's frontline to lean into their mics. Andersson's lead vocal is typically fork-tongued-- a hybrid of jab and come-on-- but the backup vocals of guitarist Jennie Asplund and bass playin' sister Johanna are cleverly done and just as forceful.
In its punchy production and eagerness to mix hard rock with boppy little guitar leads and cheeky catchy choruses, Kiss & Tell is a direct throwback to that fertile crossroads between thickheaded 70s AOR and the pop/new-wave nexus of the early 1980s. The thumping shoulder blade shake of "Mind Over Matter" and "Empty Heart" recall Pat Benatar, or the sharp angles of Tom Petty's "I Need to Know". The handclaps, buzzing bass, and Tandy 200 guitar of "Stay/Stay Away" are concealed deep within the record, as a little gift to those that stay the course. "The Difference Between Love and Hell", too, appears out of nowhere at the bottom of the lineup with one of Andersson's most appealing vocal turns and another wily amalgam of tinkly chorus keys and a wiry verses.
Is this an old Police album? Does that guitar remind me of Rick Springfield? Where's my rayon sport coat? All these questions and more are answered by Kiss & Tell. But the record's greatest feat is balancing expertly between mainstream accessibility and validation for the Hotnights themselves. It's a ballsy doll revolution.
