VELVET THUNDER

…Ingrid And The Ministers entertain us with a gamut of styles from punk to pop, and from blues to rock ‘n’ roll, demonstrating in the process that they are comfortable in all of them.

The Ingrid in question is one Ingrid Ingrid Saker, born in France but now a resident in Wellington, New Zealand, and this is the second album of this youthful unit. They describe their own music as ‘psychedelic rock ’n’ roll’, which is not far off the mark, even if that psychedelic tag might give the misleading impression of heavy late ‘60s distorted guitars. Guitarist James Morgan does sometimes use fuzzed guitar but to these ears they are more of a Punk-Pop outfit. The opening salvo of Broken Leaves and the following title track are an impressive burst of energy. Broken Leaves comes across like an accelerated version of Norman Greenbaum’s Spirit In The Sky while the title track is more of a straight forward punkish piece but also with a clever vocalized hook line – a trick they repeat elsewhere on the album. In case you’re wondering what a boofhead is (as I was) then it is Australian slang for a fool (I suspect that Google translation is on the soft side!). Saker’s vocals in these songs are not surprisingly quite aggressive but in Albatross she shows she can deliver more delicate and innocent-sounding tones, not unlike Debbie Harry managed in songs like Heart Of Glass.

The two standout tracks are both brilliant adrenalin rushes. Last Night I Dreamt That I Shot Myself is driven by an irresistible riff and another of those great vocalizing hooks. Lyrically, it is not as you might think some suicide fantasy, but instead has a more positive storyline as Saker states: ‘the song is about the triumphant moment you realise that you’re finally over someone. What could be construed as a nightmare turns into a revelation that something needed to give in order to make space for the new. It’s about the relief and lightness of making it to the other side’. The second standout track is The House That Jack Built that begins with Saker screaming angrily ‘This is the house where the baby died’. The structure is the same as the famous nursery rhyme where a line is added at the beginning of each verse. In the nursery rhyme that final line is always ‘That lay in the house that Jack built’ but here it is that line ‘This is the house where the baby died’. The song cleverly traces back the cause of the child’s death, and is a reflection on some of the horrific housing conditions that exist in New Zealand today. Musically, it’s another great combination of a good riff and an irresistible vocalizing theme. Saker’s vocals are remarkable on this one; she sounds totally breathless by the end. 

While those punkish songs are excellent, Ingrid And The Ministers avoid falling into the trap of being a one-trick pony. They slow the pace down for Porcelain God, a song that opens with a sparse bluesy rhythm that reminded me of Fleetwood’s Mac’s Green Manalishi. The vocal delivery is almost spoken in parts, echoing the similar intense style used quite often by Patti Smith. Bowie is the longest track at five and a half-minutes, and is a curious beast. It has a gentle rocking rhythm and more of those delicate Debbie Harry vocals, but it is neither fish nor fowl, or to be precise: neither energetic punk nor an enjoyable ballad. Half-life falls into this latter category, and is mostly acoustic guitars and vocals with some gorgeous light touches on electric guitar. You know for sure that with a title like Tits Out, the album closer won’t be another similar ballad. And indeed, it’s a two-minute rockabilly singalong with what must be one of the most unique chorus exhortations in rock, as Saker sings: ‘Get your tits out at my funeral’. You can’t help but smile!

 At just shy of thirty minutes, Boofhead is a tad on the short side, but you can’t complain when within that short time span Ingrid And The Ministers entertain us with a gamut of styles from punk to pop, and from blues to rock ‘n’ roll, demonstrating in the process that they are comfortable in all of them. It’s difficult to imagine anyone finding nothing to like here.