Growing up in Port Arthur, TX as a kid who loved rock music, praising the music of Janis Joplin came second nature. Whether as part of Big Brother and the Holding Company or on the posthumous Pearl, Joplin roared with an electric abandon that I found intoxicating. Her bluesy snarl stood out in stark and startling contrast to the rest of my mother’s record collection, including the psychedelia of late-period Beatles and Robert Plant’s glistening falsetto.
The stylistic gulf was even more dramatic when compared to the treacly soft rock of ‘90s Contemporary Christian Music, which featured layers of three- and four-part harmonies atop inoffensive pop arrangements. This was the stuff I was supposed to listen to as a good Christian boy. Sure, those artists were technically talented and many of them had great voices, but there was a tough emotional edge missing. Not only did Joplin’s all-in dedication to her music and her craft make a strong impression upon me, but she served as my entry point into learning about the contributions of women to the rock music pantheon.
This is the legacy into which The OSYX stride.
A hard-driving quintet out of Washington, D.C., these five talented women display a take-no-prisoners attitude as they riff their way through the seven songs of their self-titled debut. Calling to mind a furious mix of Heart, Fanny, The Kills, and Heartless Bastards, it’s no-frills rock music with superb execution and a razor-sharp production aesthetic.
Everything hinges on the huge guitar crunch. On the surface, it coyly winks at you, making you think you’re about to hear some generic garage rock, complete with raw, dirty, and unrestrained fervor. But when you peek just beneath the surface and start paying real attention, you’re treated to a robust dedication to tone that creates crisp but biting lead lines.
Each riff, fill, solo, and filigree is imbued with meaning, instead of drenching everything in cheap, muddy overdrive. The resulting music bursts with swagger and passion, but it never goes over the top to where it falls headlong into farce.
And yet – the listener doesn’t have to face down a full-throated blues-rock assault for the duration of the project. I was entranced by the ease with which the band changed lead vocalists and crafted idiosyncratic harmonies. It showcased the group’s commitment to community and making room for disenfranchised voices, as evinced in the mission statement of their record label, This Could Go Boom. Additionally, The OSYX is no mere guitar, bass, and drums setup, as violins, organs, xylophones, and layered percussion all find their way into the arrangements to create a nuanced listening experience.
Standout tunes like “Six Feet Under,” “Scavengers,” and “Diving Intervention” reveal how The OSYX is well-versed in ‘60s rock, but it really helps that the band knows when to shift and invert its roots. By showing a willingness to experiment with comfortable musical ideas so they’re updated for new generations, these five immensely talented women resist becoming either mawkish trope or stereotypical rockers merely painting by numbers.
A high-quality album on multiple levels, The OSYX is packed with fervent music and pissed-off voices, making it perfect for air guitarists and drummers around the world – including my Joplin-loving Boomer mom.