TYING TIFFANY - Undercover

And so post-foxcore (electroclash to its friends) finally landed in Italy. And it did so with dignity, through a sweet young lady equipped with a mischievous nickname ("Tying Tiffany", or "Tiffany Who Ties", take your pick), and her debut album. It all begins in the now-familiar underground circles of hardcore-punk-addicted squats, where she worked as bassist for various here-today-gone-tomorrow bands. Some time later, the girl (who in the meantime had been dabbling in amateur electro productions) is discovered by producers like Lorenzo Montanà, who bring her into the world of cutting-edge clubs and even get her featured on hit compilations ("Full Body Workout vol. 2"). And when you consider that Tiffany's whole philosophy can largely be summed up by the online lair of the Suicide Girls, punkettes decked out in tattoos and piercings, winks and erotic poses, quasi-intellectual references and allusions to sex-feminist imagery, the circle closes.

But forget the raucous hardcore-techno atonality of Miss Violetta Bauregarde (another electro debutante of Swiss origin, also hailing from the aforementioned community, see above), Tiffany's debut instead offers a collection of snappy tracks, elementary to the point of banality, built around groove and electrification, yet also sprinkled with flourishes and retro flair. In her uptempo numbers, like "Cat Killer Show", sensual vocals coexist with punchy beats and dismissive little synth games. The following "Lcd Soundsystem Is Playing At My House" (a clear counter-quote of Murphy's "Daft Punk Is Playing At My House"), which flows straight into it, stands out for its progressive update of the disco-club sound, also fitted out with buzzing guitars.

"Sugar Boy Sugar Girl" is full-blown (and conventional) electroclash: a flat, icy, sing-song voice, general self-irony veering into parody of Eighties hit singles (Miss Kittin-style), a steady rhythmic line. "Honey Doll" is a dance rant worthy of 2Unlimited, but with vocals that try to become more thoughtful. "I Wanna Be Your Mp3" quotes Chicks On Speed, in a watered-down Alec Empire-style cyberpunk, and "I'm Not A Peach" quotes Peaches (with a bridge as acidic in sound as it is amateurish in execution). The prophetic "Wake Up" offers sampler digressions, Kathleen Hanna-style vocal lines and a slightly shaky formula built around the chorus.

More interesting, albeit very brief, are the interludes between tracks. "Telekoma" almost seems to pick up on Stefania delle Allun's prank phone call on their latest "Onitsed" (see above), "Last Weekend" is a chaotic Jason Forrest-style collage for sampler and drum machine, in which Tiffany vents all her craving for kaleidoscopic sampling and disco-oriented polyrhythm, and "Running Bastard" is an amusing psychobilly guitar excursion duetting with a succession of samples of her dog's growls and barks. "Cloud" closes the album, a techno-witch nursery rhyme with cheeky gusts of sampler.

Dedicated to anyone convinced the genre has nothing left to offer. Rough around the edges, but lively in rhythm, and fun at times. There's vulgarity and cheekiness that slip into naivety, but in a healthy way. The game of quotations (explicit or not, learned or not), in the long run grows tiresome and undermines the listening pleasure.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

30/04/2026