BRAT are here to fuck with you. Behind the New Orleans quartet’s penchant for pink is a violent streak, which combined births the oxymoronic genre of bimboviolence (absolutely not to be confused with bimbocore a la Scene Queen). It would be foolish, however, to write off their subversive aesthetic as a gimmick, especially when their debut album proves they have an extremely solid musical backbone, as well as a hell of a lot of rage. Crammed into Social Grace’s 20-minute runtime are a litany of ideas dripping in misanthropy and outrage, and if you need a moment of respite, then tough tits, you’re not getting one. Opener Ego Death is an all out assault with an undertone of dread, thinning to an eerie thrum before hulking back into life, before th...