For Romy Vager, RVG’s lead singer and lyricist, feeling feral is to feel outside of everything.
On her Melbourne band's second album the tunes combine garage rock energy, jangly 60s pop rhythms and earnest, cathartic lyrics. The opening line of the opening track (Alexandra) is "Come Monday morning you may find me dead".
The group don't smile on publicity shots or in their videos as if to make clear that these songs are meant to be taken seriously, even though quirky titles like Christian Neurosurgeon and Little Sharky & The White Pointer Sisters suggest otherwise.
Only the seven and half minute Photograph, the slow-burning melodramatic closing tune, exceeds four-minute mark. Aside from this, the album feels like a collection of singles with breezy hooks at odds with the heartfelt content.
The press release describes the record as "a forthright indictment of contemporary complacency" which seems to be over-egging it somewhat. This is solid old-school Indie rock but not much more.
I get that Vager sings from the heart but more humour and context would make it easier to empathise with her apparent discontent and sense of helplessness.
Hear RVG's 'Feral' on Bandcamp