The Courettes

The first time I heard and saw the Courettes in action – in April, 2016 at the Spot Festival in Aarhus, Denmark – the Danish-Brazilian garage-rock duo was not playing in a garage. Drummer Martin Couri and singer-guitarist Flavia Couri – married in life as well as mission – were set up in a plain, windowless space off the lobby of a concert hall that felt like a storage locker for cellos and timpani. With the right decor, it could have doubled as a padded cell. That would have been appropriate, because suddenly everything went „Psycho“ – as in that 1965 Sonics 45 come to new, atomic life — with the rattling slash-and-jangle of Flavia’s pawn-shop-gem guitar (vanilla and cherry-red, cut like the mutant son of a Fender Jaguar), Martin’s bull-elephant charge on his Gretsch kit (all gun-shot snare and hi-hat sizzle) and that scream. Flavia looked like she had just walked out of the ’66 London in Blow-Up – perfect raven-black hair; pop-art go-go mini-dress – but consumed the room with avenging blues: „A vocal fireball,“ as I later wrote for Rolling Stone, „with a Janis Joplin crust on her X-Ray Spex range.“ When Martin and Flavia lit into their latest single, just out that season, they sounded exactly like the title: „Boom! Dynamite!“ That thunder, lightning and velocity are all here – again and better, in new songs that keep kicking the history forward. I have no problem admitting that I have been around long enough – as a fan and collector, before I actually got to write about music – to have heard and bought many of the seven-inch mid-Sixties grenades enshrined on Lenny Kaye’s garage-rock bible, Nuggets, when they were brand new wax. And I know the difference, this far down the road, between passionate revival and the real sound of now busting through my door. I did not know the Courettes until that day in Aarhus. I can’t imagine my turntable without them. The Courettes’ second album is here. Now it’s your turn.
– David Fricke Rolling Stone/Sirius XM Radio