ONE moment a teenage, blonde, floaty dressed Misty Miller was Tiptoeing Her Way Through The Tulips for the Woodland Trust, plucking her ukulele and being touted as the new Laura Marling folk darling, albeit with a Lily Allen way with words.
So much for sweet 16. Five years on from recording her debut during her GCSEs, the South West Londoner has two armfuls of tattoos, she's borrowed Robert Smith's lipstick, gone for Joan Jett-black hair and ditched the uke for big American pop-punk guitars.
Misty Miller in her "tiptoeing through the tulips" days
The waif has strayed, hence the teasing album title after she became "lost in the fog" in Brixton, but behind the tick-list rebellious front, the tunefulness remains, only harsher and more melodramatic, and the sullen, barbed, autobiographical lyrics have darkened like her locks.
Some will see similarities with Chrissie Hynde's Pretenders II swagger; better to recall The Breeders' Kim Deal on Girlfriend, Next To You or Devil, where even the devil rejects her. Is Misty mark two the real deal? Yes.
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