LAMBRINI GIRLS: “YOU CAN TALK THE TALK, BUT YOU ALSO HAVE TO WALK THE WALK”
Following last year’s debut EP ‘You’re Welcome’, Lambrini Girls are back with riotous new single ‘God’s Country’. To mark its release, VOCAL GIRLS chat to the band about using their platform and responsible activism.
“I don’t think there’s any point in being a punk band and releasing a political song that’s a pile of shit,” Phoebe Lunny, vocalist and guitarist of punk duo Lambrini Girls, says firmly. She’s reflecting on their latest single, ‘God’s Country’, which takes thrashing aim at the pretty bleak state of affairs in the UK right now. “Just saying ‘don’t trust your government, let’s have a fucking beer, waheeeey’ – it trivialises it,” she continues. “I wanted [‘God’s Country’] to actually be attuned to the current political landscape.”
To date, Lambrini Girls (completed by bassist Lilly Macieira) have followed the same highly-charged and unwavering path, confronting social issues such as lad culture, misogyny, transphobia, and homophobia across last year’s ‘You’re Welcome’ EP. They’re now hunkering down on a farm to write their debut album, where they do at least have the idylls of Oxfordshire countryside – complete, as they cheerfully inform me, with horses, chickens and geese – to offset the doom. ‘God’s Country’ is the first single to bridge the gap between the two projects: twisting hot-headed, flag-wielding patriotism on its head to poke holes in its logic, the song takes “God save the king” as its snarling refrain – an unfortunate coincidence given last week’s announcement of Charles’ cancer diagnosis. “The timing of that!” Phoebe sighs, shaking her head ruefully. “What can you do? That’s out of our control.”
With only days to go before the song’s release, it was too late to pull the wheels off – not that they wanted to anyway. “We’re still banging out this song,” Phoebe shrugs. “We’re feeling good about it.” Lilly agrees; “it’s saying stuff that needs to be said, especially right now. Everything’s feeling very dystopian.” Indeed, Phoebe points out that even since they recorded ‘God’s Country’, it seems as if everything has somehow become ten times worse. Horrific conflicts continue to be waged across the globe, in Palestine, Ukraine, Sudan, Haiti and the Democratic Republic of Congo. In the UK, the cost-of-living crisis shows no signs of letting up; hate crimes are rising; and, in the House of Commons, trans issues are carelessly volleyed between the green benches in exchange for cheap laughs.
Holding up a mirror to these issues is a central tenet of the band’s punk identity. Just as their music picks apart specific issues – as opposed to “umbrella statements” of the ‘let’s have a fucking beer, waheeeey’ variety – the pair are keen for their activism to have as much impact. Particularly since their music has gained traction, Phoebe is conscious of the relationship between punk bands and the issues that – through the inherent nature of a capitalist music industry – they are indirectly profiting from. “If you are vocal about political issues and your songs are about political issues, that becomes intrinsically part of your brand – especially if you’re singing about issues which don’t directly affect you. You have a responsibility to make sure you are bringing these issues into the forefront,” she says. “We want to make sure we’re uplifting people who come from significant disadvantages and marginalised people as well. You can talk the talk but you also have to walk the walk.”
Especially in the digital age, walking the walk – for all of us – includes continual education, challenging misinformation online and, importantly, resisting the urge to value speed over substance. “We embrace the responsibility and we’re grateful for it,” Lilly says. “On the other hand, sometimes it can be… I guess overwhelming would be the best word.”
“We’re always very vigilant, and have learnt to be more vigilant, to make sure we aren’t instantly reactive to stuff for the sake of doing that, because it’s not constructive at all,” Phoebe says. “People sometimes just take what you say as gospel; that in itself is inherently damaging, and also totally antithetical to what we want to do. It’s important that we’re able to provide resources and make sure that people are learning, but we’re always still learning ourselves. We’re just lil’ guys at the end of the day.” Lilly nods: “Yeah, we’re just lil’ dudes.”
One issue Lambrini Girls have always shouted loud about is the treatment of women and non-binary people, from their avid support of trans rights and ‘FUCK TERFS’ merch to songs like ‘Boys in the Band’, which calls out the toxic culture enabling assault (“Problematic and well connected / But it's still being deflected / Because we separate the art from the artist”). The government’s Misogyny in Music report, published at the end of January, therefore came as little shock to either of them. “People on X [fka Twitter] were [reacting] like–,” Phoebe slaps a hand across her mouth to feign outrage, “–what?!” She sighs, exasperated. “What do you mean ‘what?’! This is our whole fucking lives! This is every non-male person’s career in music. It’s like everyone forgot the #MeToo movement happened, or think it just exclusively applied to the film industry. No!”
“Among women and queer people it’s common knowledge,” Lilly nods. “When I was first getting into music, my mum warned me about the industry and said ‘you never have to do anything you don’t want to do’, blah blah blah. Even she was completely aware of what it’s like.”
An example of social media’s mixed blessings, in the wake of the report, Instagram provided a space for people to share solidarity as well as their own experiences. Phoebe points to a statement posted by Izzy Baxter Phillips, frontperson of Black Honey. “I think what’s beautiful is that the more people who are vocal, the less scary it gets,” Phoebe says. “[Izzy’s] in a relatively big band, so a lot of smaller bands, or a lot of women or queer people, are gonna see that and think ‘it’s safe for me to do that too’. It makes it a lot easier for other people who might be a bit scared to do so – which is slay!”
Among other things, the report aims to limit the use of NDAs and develop a school programme to combat misogyny in boys. The latter point feels most critical for digging out the problem’s cultural root, but that is far easier said than done. “I feel like we’re in this weird sensationalist cycle where this kind of thing comes out and there’s a temporary uproar about it, but no one’s actually learning from it,” Lilly says. “People don’t take responsibility and don’t look at their roles in these things – particularly men, to be honest. The people who are affected by it are lower down in the power dynamic because we’re affected by it; that’s the inherent nature of it.”
“You have to recognise your privilege and use it to open dialogues, which might even get you in a bit of shit,” Phoebe agrees. “Every non-male person is putting their fucking neck on the line – it’s not enough to just see it and be like ‘aw yeah, that’s shit, let me repost that’.”
Challenging “cis geezers” and the generally unconverted to accept their sermon is why festivals and support slots are an important part of the Lambrini Girls agenda. “If you’re preaching to the choir 24/7 you’re enforcing your bubble, but you’re not making it any bigger,” Phoebe says. “In a crowd of 700 people, you might change one person’s mind, or at least make them think; that’s what’s important.” In fact, making people think seems to be the band’s raison d’être. Theirs is not a hollow, controversial-for-the-sake-of-it rehash of punk; nor is it aloof, claiming absolute wisdom from atop the high horse. Instead, Lambrini Girls are navigating both the political and digital landscape with admirable transparency - learning as they go - and making sure to scream their lungs out about any and all prejudice they see along the way.