Review: Wet Dip, Smell of Money

Daniel Francis Doyle fans, brace yourselves. The singer-songwriter's got a rollicking solo discography, sure, but it's nothing compared to Wet Dip. Doyle and sisters Erica and Sylvia Rodriguez issue abstract, minimalist no wave, not just sharpened alternative rock. Sylvia, who shares bass and guitar duties with Doyle, opens debut Smell of Money with plainly sung vocals, but she most often barks her words, which form agitated imagery and irate accusations. In "Black Friday," a "five finger discount" goes so awry that our narrator is willing to turn against her co-conspirator. "I told them you raped me/ I told them that grave was mine," she snarls against noisy guitar accents. No shock the trio would take on Pixies' offbeat, amelodic death crawl "Silver" – though a relatively faithful cover of Gloria Trevi's "Pelo Suelto" may surprise. It all builds to unambiguous closer "Kill Floor." Atop stoner metal guitar, Sylvia reveals what, exactly, the Smell of Money is. "Smells like shit," she repeats, building to a throaty trasher's scream. Care to guess their politics?

Wet Dip plays a free record release show on Saturday, Jan. 6 at the Parlor with Mange and Dromez.

Wet Dip

Smell of Money