Though it’s the smallest state, Rhode Island makes the biggest noise. After roasting synapses with the conniption-fit-core of Lightning Bolt and Arab on Radar, Providence is adding another entry in ADD grind: the Daughters, who raise the bar for screaming-bastard noise, then proceed to whack you in the kneecaps with it.
The band’s debut, Canada Songs, is less an album than an aneurysm in stereo, with 10 cuts clocking in at just over 11 minutes. Snarky song titles (“Pants, Meet Shit,” “I Slept With the Daughters and All I Got Was This Lousy Song Written About Me”) and vocals somewhere between an infant’s wail and nails on a chalkboard are to be expected. But what really distinguishes the Daughters from their peers is a knack for hammering out discernible songs rather than wayward shit-fits. Underscored by diesel-fueled drumming and absurdly fast guitar playing, they turn annoyance into art.
This article appears in Mar 17-23, 2004.