Thanks to Sleazegrinder, we’ve all got Brijitte West and her NY Loose fresh on our minds, and the only way that stamp is going to wash away anytime soon is if Brijitte’s long lost sister emerges from, like, outer space or something, packing a guitar and some princess power, to loosen things up one more time. Oh, that’d be sweet wouldn’t it? Because then we could all start believing in authentic rock n’ roll again and dancing, drinking, and fucking like we did when we were sixteen. It would be all about heart and dreams and loose times, wherein anything was possible if you had half a pack of smokes and someone to share ‘em with. That’s what makes Kitty Kowalski so special, because when she starts writing her glorious Big Apple, hook heavy, Ramones-meets-Muffs cotton candy punk rock and blowin’ big, sticky bubbles of emotions, sin, adolescence, and odes to Dee Dee and Joey out of her sweet-lipped marble mouth, you’re suddenly smiling that kind of smile you got when you kissed somebody for the first time at that party your parents told you not to throw. I’ve listened to Chinese Democracy several times now and about the only thing I can think of is how I wish Kitty was my first kiss and that we stayed up all night while she wrote me songs and scribbled lyrics of our love on the back of my hand. And how I wish punk was still about truth, substance, and attitude. Oh, and how this will be the best album titled Chinese Democracy you will ever hear, no matter what the Offspring, Dog Shit Boys, and Axl have to say about it.
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-Jeff Warren