Words by: Philip Efthimiou
The album opens with a high-energy, matter-of-fact, low-spoken initiation into the world 45ACIDBABIES invite us into. A thumping bassline leads the way, and there’s nothing like the strained shout of “everything is fine!” to convince you that, right from the opener, everything in the playfully chaotic Paint The World Pink universe might actually be anything but fine.
A K.Flay—or even Self Esteem—adjacent bass heaviness persists. The first quarter of the album remains as loud and self-assured as its opening moments. We shift from the grungier, growling basslines of Sur5 to the more understated, muted subwoofer thumps of 9Mann, where a racy, steadfast monotone poses the question: “Does it feel right? / Doesn’t it feel right?”
Heavy on bitrate and binary metaphors, the most pop-ready track yet, Running In2 U, highlights the sonic cyberspace 45ACIDBABIES have been building. It’s a world “meant for a single player,” the narrator bravely begging their co-player to join them and reach safety—ready or not.
The album is sprinkled with shimmering, hyper-digital sound elements. Love Me 10der features sparsely repeated cha-chings, the iconic 80s orchestra hit, gunshots, and landline phones ringing. Corrupted and fragmented spoken word pops up between verses, adding punch in 7/11 (“There is nothing special ’bout you”) and sass in Too L8 To Call Back (“Let’s just say, umm… this ain’t working out”). Some of these motifs materialise more solidly in the second half of the record: the Super Mario Bros. sound effects library takes centre stage in Oceans 11, a secret agent-style dialogue interlude. It delivers the most camp moment of the album—a brief pause to the party but a playful way to usher the narrative forward and give each band member a moment to make a vocal appearance.
A string of early-2000s references (including the Totally Spies com-powder phone ringtone—identified from the depths of my childhood subconscious) leads us into the album’s closing triad. 7/11 is cool and fierce, channelling Gwen Stefani-esque vocal delivery. Its heavy guitars and glitchy vocal plugins make me wish this was a St. Vincent collaboration. Only Class6 From Now On deploys bratty cheerleader chants—a definite nod to Toni Basil’s Hey Mickey—finishing with “Everybody dance now, watch me shred.” It’s the rawest the band has sounded yet—tragically only reserved for the final 10 seconds. It’s a welcome shift, where the digital 8-bit chaos gives way to more analogue instrumentation, though it’s far too short-lived.
The album’s central concept is muddy, at least when summed up through its frisky and punchy lyrics. However, where the imagery and emotional range occasionally falters, anthemic production and intricate bells and whistles (even actual whistles in Too L8 To Call Back) make up for it.
As a whole, the album feels like flipping through a View-Master, jumping from intergalactic scenes to shiny asteroids exploding in chrome, pink, and gold. Scratchy guitars and GarageBand drum sets meet funky basslines across 11 tracks, with intense buildups that don’t always land with the payoff they deserve. The final pop-punk moment—a thread quietly woven through many of the tracks—highlights a lane the band could veer into more singularly and fully. It’s reminiscent of the drama and punch of early-days Marina and the Diamonds, but with a pink, 45ACIDBABIES edge.
