Class divides, governmental incompetence, the world’s relentless reiteration of anger-inciting injustice- Kid Kapichi didn’t mess about when they chose the lyrical themes for this, their debut album. And thank goodness, because with a sound as wonderfully abrasive as that which they forge, superficialities would be severely misplaced here. Kid Kapichi have things to say, and you’d be hard-pressed not to listen.
Hard-pressed not to dance while you’re doing so, too. From the searing start- the very first few bars of First World Goblins squealing into life- the album’s infectious energy establishes itself; this is a record to turn up. It’s buzzy, it’s gritty, and it’s cutting, through to the end.
Despite being produced during a lockdown (and self-produced by necessity because of subsequent restrictions), Kid Kapichi have instilled in this album an incredible amount of punch. It’s perhaps likely, even, that the would-be roadblock of a global pandemic only stoked their fire. After all, the past year (and counting…) has been nothing if not chock-full of inflammatory incidents.
Fans of the band will already be familiar with close to half of the tracklisting, as an impressive five tracks have already been released as singles. This potential familiarity doesn’t work to dampen the impact of the album, though; not only are the previously unreleased tracks pushed to the second half of the record to build listener anticipation, but This Time Next Year as a collective body is so impressively cohesive that it’s genuinely difficult to skip any one song.
The only disappointment I can see with this record is that, with every song so seemingly purpose-made for a big, sweaty crowd to jump and shout along to, the return of live gigs is still so unbearably distant. For now then, I recommend taking the long route to the supermarket this week, cranking your car stereo to eleven, and spinning This Time Next Year in full.