Sad Girl Mixtape is a solid introduction to who Cassyette is set to become

From her appearance on the scene at Download Pilot, just two songs out but already being proclaimed ‘a fucking rockstar’ by Frank Carter, who she joined on stage for the pair’s collab “Off With His Head.” What Cassyette played at her own early tent set was captivating; an unearthly intensity and magnetic oddness running through the likes of Dear Goth and the not-yet-released Prison Purse. Her first few tunes were abrasive punk magic, and as a result her rise has been astronomical since. Now, the Cassyette we meet on her debut mixtape is somewhat more tame – but she makes it suit her.

The opening statement, “Mayhem,” is one of the EP’s most restrained, leaning into the grungier route with a delightfully retro feel alongside her gravelly belt-along choruses. It’s also one of the most confident moments of the mixtape - Cassyette sounds totally at home, a classic icon for the new class. The other spots where she sounds completely and brilliantly in control are the times she gets to unleash a straight-up anthem - single “Sad Girl Summer” is an effervescent, emo, ever-loopable banger to the core. It’s easy to picture her ever-growing crowds screaming this one out for years to come, as they have been doing this summer, and Cassyette shines leading her gang of sad girls through a singalong. “Take Take Take,” though a little angsty, still packs the qualities that make “Sad Girl Summer” such a highlight, a pop-rock masterclass that gives Cassyette’s vocals a spotlight and provides a gut-wrenching bite of catharsis and frustration.

Going with the mixtape format, though, Cassyette has had room to play. The likes of “September Rain,” “Dead Roses,” and “Picture Perfect” see her stray into the larger-scale rock tune territory – dark, soaring vocals, slashing riffs, dense textures. There’s plenty here to headbang and jump around to, but something about the darker moments don’t gel. Despite Cassyette’s definite aptitude for the sludgier, gothier side of punk, it feels like she doesn’t quite go for it as much as she could. Then, on the absolute flipside, you have “Die Hate Cry,” a guttural, grinding moment of punctuation that sees Cassyette just growl for a minute; feral, explosive and totally off-kilter when compared to the the rest of the mixtape. It’s a glorious and gory extreme, but would deliver even more if those seeds of aggression pierced through elsewhere.

This isn’t necessarily meant to be Cassyette’s coherent first opus - this is a whistle-stop tour of everything that excites her, and that’s exciting to hear. She’s got plenty up her sleeve, and plenty of nerve to pull it off with.