After over a decade of unapologetic riot-grrrl-esque feminist rock anthems, Norwegian pop-rock band Sløtface are no stranger to a little social commentary and sharp instrumentalism. From their humble high school stage to the studio to venues across the globe, the band, pronounced and originally named ‘Slutface’ have made a name for themselves with their bold, catchy sound matched with rage-filled and cleverly scathing lyricism.
Their third studio album Film Buff is no exception to this trend—a bold, energetic record full to the brim with playful social commentary and bright guitar riffs. Despite the album presenting itself as a love letter to cinema and all things escapism, Film Buff is still firmly grounded in reality and doesn’t shy away from the band’s usual raw honesty, using witty lyricism to call out harmful societal norms through the lens of frustrating film tropes. With many of the lyrics originally intended to be short stories, each song paints a crystal-clear narrative composed of abstract imagery and vivid metaphor, making Film Buff captivating, immersive and also extremely relatable from start to finish.
Inspired by the recent success and hype around artists like Olivia Rodrigo, this album sees vocalist Haley take herself less seriously as she lets go of any remaining internalised misogyny left from years of being a woman in the punk scene and embrace a more soft and playful tone over her (by comparison) stone hard exterior in previous albums. This is evident from the very first track I Used To Be A Real Piece Of Shit, which jumps straight in with sarcasm and self-deprecation against a catchy guitar riff, evaluating her past unsavoury behaviours whilst critiquing the gender roles that contributed to them. While the grit and anger behind their previous discography was undeniably powerful and captivating, it is surprisingly refreshing to see this different side to the band, a side that doesn’t shy away from a joke or two but still writes and performs with unfiltered, meaningful honesty.
Embracing the cinema tropes theme from the get go, next tracks Leading Man and Final Gørl take the opportunity to shamelessly poke fun at these sexist cliches and the patriarchal reality they reflect. This tongue-in-cheek is matched with a bouncy, lighthearted sound as accompanying the vocals are catchy baselines, punchy drums and bright guitars, channelling their existing infectious energy into a slightly brighter direction than they’ve travelled before.
An aspect of stepping away from their stern, angry roots in favour of a lighter kind of catharsis, the band aimed for the album to be nothing more than “eleven bangers”, rejecting the notion of “guilty pleasures” and aspiring for “joy” and “positivity” to be the main takeaways from the listening experience. Undoubtedly this will be achieved both through headphones and when they take to stages across Europe in the coming weeks, as it isn’t hard to imagine each track accompanied by the echo of energetic fans singing along. What makes this feat so impressive though is how, despite the risk of an album with this much energy potentially losing its rise and fall, Sløtface still manages to keep the tracklist dynamic and interesting without ever losing momentum. A perfect example of this is I Confess, I Guess, which to begin with leans into a soft, airy atmosphere led by dreamy synths and delicate vocals, somewhat reminiscent of The Japanese House, before climbing to a grand crescendo by the end of the track.
On the other hand, songs like Quiet On Set see a return to the heavier, angrier side of their sound with an explosive delivery that can barely be contained within its less than two minutes of run time. This song sounds like classic Sløtface but still maintains the mindset of maturity and inner-peace set by the surrounding tracks of Film Buff. At this point it feels like the band have truly turned over a new leaf where lyricism and attitude is concerned, able to take this fresh perspective and channel it into any sound they desire and, especially, turn back the clock and revisit previous chapters with the self-growth of where they are now. Closing off this showstopper, Impression Of A Car Crash is Sløtface’s take on a grand finale. It is cinematic, emotive and bold, a perfect conclusion to Film Buff that seems to sum up everything that the album aims to convey.
Despite the countless undeniable gems within their discography over this last decade, Film Buff is arguably the most Sløtface record that Sløtface have released, which is strange to say considering how much of a leap of faith it was from their previous albums. While not as obviously angsty anymore, these songs still pack the same bite and fearless social commentary that sits at Sløtface’s very core. The main difference is their new approach to self-expression, opting for a somewhat experimental and abstract narrative as opposed to their former scathing, powerful though slightly on-the-nose songwriting style. Film Buff, overall, is a captivating and fun listening experience from start to finish, and a breath of fresh air fans probably didn’t even know they needed.
For fans of: Press Club, Dream Wife, Camp Cope
‘Film Buff’ by Sløtface is out now on Propellor Recordings.
Words by Heather Swift
