The inadequate nature of my knowledge and exposure to punk becomes very apparent every time I spin
Manikin’s latest release,
Stop the Sirens. When I hear it, my head snaps back and forth and the chaotic pulse of Manikin steers me into what can only be described as a punk coma. I drool, my arms go numb, and then I get up again to flip the record. The allure of Manikin lies somewhere in their panache for necessity. They color completely within the lines of their minimal three-piece outfit. The music only diverges at moments, particularly when the horn sounds dissonant and fluttering in and out of texture.
-austin sound