Scrawl

As female-identified garage-rock, this never attempts to glorify its ineptitude with swagger or poetry--it has the guts to make plain that ineptitude isn't so damn far from vulnerability. Too often, right, it's merely inept--tuneless and quiet instead of tuneless and loud. But when S. Hershe worries that she's turning into "a slut," or wonders if she should "decide not to worry," or simply sings "I'm sad, I'm sad, I'm so f*cking sad," her brains could break your heart. (Grade: B)