How could I only glance over a title such as Pussy Whipped... from Bikini Kill, which contains one of the most futile forms of punk I've ever witnessed. It packs spice, but it deliberately seems to lack punch for me as a counterbalance. They're bordering being too damn busy to do so, it's just a jam session in which barely anyone ever perfects their harmonious desires to really sell themselves. It's one of these products of the 90s which promotes sarcasm in the coat of a typical rebellious ...
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