Crackly Ria and The Revellons crash‑landed onto my Thursday Girl Soundz like they’d been smuggled in by a time‑traveling jukebox. They started with that Shangri‑Las swagger, but then—bam!—my brain did a cartwheel and suddenly I’m hearing David Johansen from the New York Dolls yelling from the corner of the room. Wild how your mind just grabs two unrelated records and insists they’re cousins.
Anyway, this was another one of those flea‑market miracles, the kind where you find treasure only if you’ve got a few crumpled bills and a reckless spirit. I took the plunge (because you know I’m powerless against those girl‑group harmonies), even though the vinyl looks like it spent fourteen summers as a dog’s favorite frisbee. And the marker scribbles? Absolutely the work of a DJ who had given up on life and possibly gravity.
