A collaboration between Icelandic musician Jón Kristínarson and Ukrainian poet and singer Ella Yevtushenko, My Favorite War combines urgent political commentary with a punchy and perfectly tailored approach to lo-fi noise pop. The duo’s debut release, a 3-track EP called Songs for Serpents, explores the realities of climate change, gender oppression, and war, and for every ounce of substance this release offers, it shows up with just as much style. Songs for Serpents simultaneously harkens back to early feminist peace-punk bands like Crass as well as riot grrrl standbys like Bikini Kill and Le Tigre, all while paving the way into its own creatively chaotic niche.

From a musical standpoint, the three songs of the EP blend into one another seamlessly, creating a cohesive, nine-minute piece of music. Aptly named, the opening track “Oven” (Духовка) offers a cutting take on global climate change and the realities of a quickly warming planet. The frenetic and somewhat chaotic energy of the EP fits its political subject matter well, creating the sense that even amidst the fun and joy we experience in our lives, the constant truth of impending destruction hangs just in front of our faces. The EP’s second and third tracks shift the focus to gendered expectations, masculinity, and war. “Men’s Toy” (Війна жіночого роду) points at the senseless and ongoing relationship between toxic masculinity and perpetual global wars, while “Free & Equal” (Вільні, рівні) highlights the painful fact that even in our modern world, women still don’t enjoy freedom from the limiting notions of gender and sex.

A reference to the 2020 Latvian-Norwegian documentary of the same name, My Favorite War draws much of its motivation from the importance of condemning war, violence, and the role patriarchy plays in perpetuating these destructive cycles. The band also draws upon mythology to calibrate its political compass. The EP’s title is a reference to the Greek myth of Medusa and the all-too-common misinterpretation of Medusa as a cruel and senseless monster. In reality, Medusa was raped by Poseidon, then unjustly blamed as the victim and cursed to live as a gorgon with snakes for hair (hence Songs for Serpents, which strikes a mood of solidarity with rape survivors everywhere). The EP’s closing track also punctuates the band’s stance on feminism and gender equality, pointing out the injustice that even in a world where anyone can study and pursue their own careers, women continue to be reduced to the level of aesthetic and sexualized objects.

But despite the central political focus of Songs for Serpents, what draws listeners in first is its undeniably compelling sound, creativity, and atmosphere. With booming, saturated drums, a melodic bassline, and Yevtushenko’s bright, smooth vocals, the EP’s opening track immediately sets the stage for a contemplative, emotional, and raw exploration of lo-fi punk and, as Kristínarson calls it, shitgaze. Perfectly toeing the line between pop and noise, the EP blends its melodic and chaotic sensibilities with impressive skill, creating an unexpected yet deeply welcome emotional terrain. By combining the familiar and alluring element of pop songwriting with the pleasantly unnerving quality of noise and distortion, Songs for Serpents strategically unsettles its listeners as it draws them in ever closer.

Amidst the consistent haze of overdriven distortion, Yevtushenko’s vocals serve as a consistent beacon throughout this short-and-sweet release. Even as they blend into the tracks’ expansive sonic atmosphere, the vocals never cease to be the central focus, emphasizing the significance of the EP’s lyrical subject matter. Complementing Yevtushenko’s contributions, the masterful lo-fi production of the EP lands it squarely in a category of classic lo-fi pop and punk releases I keep in my personal collection. In my wildest international punk show dreams, I can see this band sharing a bill with bands like the Assassinators (Denmark), La Fraction (France), Arctic Flowers (Portland, USA), or underrated Italian dance-punk band Kalashnikov.

There’s truly no way to effectively describe just how worth listening to this album is, so I highly recommend that if you’re reading this, you immediately have a listen for yourself. At just over nine minutes long, this EP will leave listeners impatient to hear what’s next from this exciting new musical partnership.