By Rebecca Bulnes
By Lee Zimmerman
By Rebecca Bulnes
By S. Pajot
By S. Pajot, Liz Tracy, Kat Bein, & Sean Levisman
By Kat Bein
By Ashley Rogers
Kill Miss Pretty. If the name alone doesn't get you, the band just might. The Boynton Beach-based act is a soul-stealing threesome comprising pixie-throated singer Alicia Olink and Ouija board-wielding axe men Russell Rogers and Martin Davis. And thanks to its out-there style and tunes, the band could very well be the reason our region once again becomes known for something other than booty music.
Take KMP's debut LP, Permission for Strange, which came out last August. A subtly rousing affair that somehow was both über-cool and illicitly heated, it showed a band hell-bent on forging its own place in the pop pantheon with a spectacular set of tools. Led by the slithery single "Drawing Pictures of Haunted Houses with You," the album hinges on machine-gun beats, gutter-drenched riffs, and the voice of an angel who seems to have just crawled up from under your skin. In other words, Strange is the kind of deep, dark amalgam of electro-punk, glam, and power pop that makes you want to put on loud colors and lurk at a full moon. Imagine skipping along to a nightmare and you'll get the bright idea.
Mostly, though, KMP's secret weapon is its stage show, which is as keenly thought-out as it is sublimely over-the-top. The band's style is a visual mix of myth, legend, and whimsy — the trio once appeared dressed as Alice and her Wonderland after a mad dose of Nabokov. It has also hit the stage as racecar driver and pit crew, cop and muggers, yaoi boys (just Google it — trust us), ninjas, and ringleader with evil circus clowns. But Kill Miss Pretty is not just the latest craze to hit South Florida's stages; it's our state's great glam hope. JOHN HOOD