mirage ad

CURRENT ISSUE

DONATE ADVERTISE SUBSCRIBE

Reviewed by Violet French

Sabine Wojnar: Peppermint Slice EP

Reviewed by Violet French

Sabine Wojnar: Peppermint Slice EP

‘Peppermint Slice’: a delectable five-song EP with a hearty, rhythm-driven base, crisply flavoured guitar-and-vocal centre. And the icing on top? Well, it’s slathered on in richly dark psychedelic tones, and a uniquely DIY production approach. Mmmmm, tasty!

Sabine Wojnar [Sah-Bean Wodge-Nah] brings us this collection of songs, and it’s an experience not dissimilar to walking into the world of Dr Seuss, though almost-adult. A swirling, and at times a dark blend of all things mysterious and nonsensical. 

The group state that they existed “…between 2014 and 2016 in a dimension called Christchurch” and it would seem that ‘Peppermint Slice’ is the gateway to that dimension. For the record, the band is made up of Symon Palmer (Zero Cool, Doprah), Ben Woods, Ryan Chin (Ryan Fisherman, Adam Hattaway and the Haunters, Doprah), and Abi Macilquham.

Lyrically bursting with entendre, and basking in saucy shame, these songs serve to the guilt and guilty pleasures associated with coming of age, self-awakenings, and the fun and frivolity of being in your early 20s. Lead track Bruised Banana grooves to an infectious bass riff, while breathy narrator Symon Palmer tells us of lust and longing, but in slightly more pragmatic terms.  “I’m a bruised banana/nobody wants me/ I’m a bruised banana/ somebody use me.” Nothing further need be said. 

More bouncily upbeat, On A Tuesday Night is a frank song about getting twisted on a school night, conveying the awkward joy associated with the situation. “I don’t want to break this spell/ I just want to hit my second wind.” This EP most certainly hits its second wind. Or even a third by the time you get to the end of it…  

The 5-minute long Cheap Eats provides the finale on ‘Peppermint Slice’, serving as the moment where we are forced to get back through that portal into our current reality, and upon return, our world just isn’t as fun. We’re farewelled through a wash of wailing vocals, an ominous yet wistful keyboard line, and acidic fuzzed-out guitar. 

The EP proves to be equally as moreish, and as much a Kiwi classic as the treat it was named after. It might be something…

support nzm