dp textpoopin... loose poppin!!



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<Toxic Lipstick Reveal All>
<Rave Magazine interview>





Toxic Lips tick are 2 14 yr old hotties dropping the bass and breaking hearts in sunny Brisbane, Australia. With shining eyes and glossy coats these teen skanks aren`t afraid to throw lips to the shit that really matters ponies, boys, puberty, shafting acid and hosting exclusive popcorn sleepovers. A triple combo of dope beats, dope rhymes and dope rax with xtra fries, Toxic Lipstick are Australia`s most bitchin whorecore duo eva. They will shit in yr mouth, spew in yr undies and give yr pony the finest grooming she`s eva had. After selling panadol to ravers to fund their first album `When the Dove`s Cry` the girls are at it again this time unleashing their difficult second album. Ultimately this new opus in pre-teenism shows that 'Doves? their first offering was merely spotting compared to the heavy menstrual flow on the new album 'Prisoner of hormones?.



Slut Cunt Hairbrush 2:18
Dear Diary... 1:42
Truth Dare 2:04
Slip Slop Slap 1:00
Put It In 2:06
The Crystal 1:50
Cuntry Lovin' 2:08
Tracy's Slumber Party 4:08
Love Neva Dies 1:36
Peakin' With Control 1:40
Waiting 4 My Rags 0:50
Hormone Megamixx 5:20

Also Available by Toxic Lipstick



"Toxic Lipstick are two chicks from Brisbane, Australia. They sing about shit that matters: boys, shafting acid, poon and slumber parties. The girls deliver 26 minutes of pubescent rhymes over rave damaged synths and trashcan-like drum machines. The songs are fast, noisy pieces of 8-bit electro thrash filtered through a hot pink lens. Slut Cunt Hairbrush opens the album into the girls hormone drenched world of teencore. Riding high on the BPM?s is the penis frenzied Put It In. Cuntry Lovin? is an electro hoedown paying homage to incest. The longest song on the album at four minutes is Tracey?s Slumba Party, which features such sing-song vocals as: ?I sneak into her brother?s room, And try to seduce him with my hot young poon, I jump on his bed and suck his cock, We have bangin? sex and he cums in is sock.? Wow, classic! It?s obvious that time in Japan?s noise/breakcore capital of Osaka has influenced the girls on tracks like the squealing Love Neva Dies and the closing Hormone Megamix. Listening to Toxic Lipstick is like a frosted cake with sprinkles, you can only take so much before you vomit. Fortunately for the girls, that is just the kind of aesthetic that they make sound so kewl." 7/10 -- Michael Flora, Foxy Digitalis.


"Peakers and tweakers alike unite! Australia’s original ecky-jawed badgirls are back with their second full-length, jammed to the brim with foul ’n’ feisty skag-tech rapdowns and bangin’ carnivalesque delights. These teen idols are ill at ease spewing giggly rushes of crass peer group pressure over BPM rapidfire and mongoloid 8-bit brutality. They wrangle themes of incest and cow birth on ‘Cuntry Lovin’’ and squeal on heat for chaos and man-meat throughout ‘Put It In’, which surges like Sigue Sigue Sputnik scoring Mortal Kombat porn. ‘Tracey’s Slumba Party’ is included on this disc as well as on their excellent debut – with overworked smartchord arrangements and a sing-song vocal delivery, Toxic Lipstick are somehow able to make ‘poopin’ seem like the most relevant word in the English language. Forever young, these globe-trotting marvels present the Australian youth experience through a hot pink lens, aiming digital guns at a mile-long shitlist of disillusioned yet totally hot sluzzas and bevans. Puberty is a battlefield." - Adrian Trajstman


"Lock up your My Little Pony and any sharp objects left lying around, because Toxic Lipstick are back. With little time to spare in fact – Prisoner Of Hormones represents Synthia J Popp and Cyndii Valentine’s second album in 12 months, a time they’ve spent relocated in Japan’s noise / breakcore capital Osaka before only recently returning to their homebase in sunny Brisbane. The resultant time spent amongst such contemporaries in Osaka as Ove Naxx (with whom the girls recently undertook an Australian East coast tour) has clearly invigorated their furious electro-thrash attack, with this second album presenting 12 new tracks over a furious total running length of just 26 minutes. As for the lyrical subject matter, listeners to last year’s debut offering When The Dove’s Cry will already have some inkling of what to expect, with Prisoner Of Hormones picking up the baton from that previous record with themes ranging from underage lust, heroic drug use and menstruation to pony grooming. Curiously enough, Prisoner Of Hormones comes across as one of Dual Plover’s most ‘accessible’ releases in some time, a description likely to be more indicative of the confrontational nature of that imprint’s release aesthetic than any intended approachability on Toxic Lipstick’s part. Opening track ‘Slut C*nt Hairbrush’ crashes proceedings open with a bang, the girl’s processed teencore yelps riding a stiffly robotic electro-rockabilly backing of analogue synths and tinny-sounding drum machine rhythms, before ‘Dear Diary…’ sees fellow Brisbane noiseniks Anal Cookie bringing the noise on a studio collaboration that places screwed-up hiphop beats beneath Synthia’s trash-talk rapping (”Being a teen is really tuff / especially when you’ve got an itchy muff / all I wanna do is get fully laid / mum does too and she gets paid.”) From there, ‘Truth Dare’ unleashes a furious volley of rapid-fire breakcore rhythms beneath swirling ‘Flight Of The Bumblebee’-esque synths in a rave-damaged slice of thrash that’s had too much red cordial, while ‘C*ntry Lovin’ even manages a sly digression into inbred electro hoedown territory (”I love you like my daughter / even though you are my sister”). Like many of their fellow Dual Plover brethren, Toxic are undoubtably a primarily visual prospect that’s best experienced live in person, where you can “aah” at their matching full-body Doremon pyjama suits and freak at the drooled fake blood. Prisoner Of Hormones certainly represents the perfect audio souvenir, and easily represents a stronger, more diverse collection than its predecessor. In the mood for gratuitous eighth grade toilet / sex humour over speedcore tempos? Let’s hope these two sluzzas never graduate Year Nine…" - Chris Downton