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Maximum Rocknroll wants to review everything that comes out in the world of underground punk rock, hardcore, garage, post-punk, thrash, etc. No major labels or labels exclusively distributed by major-owned distributors, no reviews of test pressings or promo CDs without final artwork. We reserve the right to reject releases on the basis of content. Music without vocals or drums will not be considered. All music submitted for review must have been released (or reissued) within the last two years. Please include contact information and let us know where your band is from!
Wow. This is off to a great start. Female-fronted pop music with some (a lot) of organ/keyboards and a ton of energy. Five cuts, they all rock, and not a single one of them is over two minutes long. Now you’re speaking my language. Super catchy and just fun to listen to. The vocals are both pretty and interesting. While this is poppy and pretty, make no mistake, this is not sticky sweet; it’s got some guts.
When you have a visibly decaying (very) grim reaper on the cover of an album by a Swedish punk band, you can bet your one good kidney that they are going to unleash dark and heavy galloping hardcore for the masses. Well, your kidney is safe, because BÖDEL plays straightforward, beefy käng with enough shades of D-beat speed to keep things interesting for twenty minutes. It sounds how it is meant to: relentless, punishing, and energetic. Let’s not D-beat around the bush here, because BÖDEL does not endeavour to innovate and modify a formula that has been working since a bunch of scruffy kids came up with the systematization of a very specific beat in Stoke-on-Trent in 1980. Know who I mean? In the grand spectrum of the D-takt, I would place these Göteborg punks somewhere around early VICTIMS, WARVICTIMS, or GEFYR for a modern reference, with a great, heavier production highlighting the unstoppable vibe of the music. A couple of moments of the LP suggest a fondness for the more epic, moodier side of WOLFBRIGADE, which I do not disapprove of. Very classic and predictable but in a good way, and the fantastic female vocals, angry and manic on the verge of explosion, do take the band to the Premier League of käng hardcore in my opinion. A very enjoyable album that undeniably stands as one of this year’s strongest instances of this peculiar subgenre.
This Hamiliton, Ontario four-piece dropped this LP earlier this year, and it’s full of power pop-ish rock’n’roll. It’s ten tracks, and most of them blend together. I could chop it up to the production and use the song “Stone Cold” for example. It’s got a riff, it’s got a chorus, and both blend into each other without any real dynamics. It never really hits, and had me ready to hit the ol’ skip button. I think with some better production or dynamics, this would come across a little more rocking. They mention a heavy Flying Nun influence, but aside from a couple of moments that I had to really look for, I don’t hear it. It’s a shame, because if that influence would have been front and center, I may have enjoyed this a lot more.
Alright! Here’s a killer split that pairs up two bands that know what the fuck they’re doing and don’t muck about getting to the point. Split releases almost always beg comparison, but that’s no issue with these two burgeoning titans of Oi! Both sides will surely leave deep boot prints on your ass. DRYACID may just be Japan’s answer to the TEMPLARS, blasting out two tunes that feel like instant classics. Crack a cold one and flip the wax for two more cuts of rock’n’roll-tinged street anthems from the SLADS. Tuneful, with the perfect balance of grit and gravel, these earworms will burrow deep. Pure punk; a total package front to back and side to side.
Although “ekibyo” is the Japanese word for “pestilence,” this band lives far from Osaka—Tampa, Florida, a place with significantly more shorts than crust pants. The Final Goodbye is the band’s third (and hopelessly not final) recording, and they haven’t changed in terms of influences, nodding lovingly to the distorted, crusty hardcore sound from Japan. This is a rather lo-fi affair, and I can appreciate that they don’t try to go for the total blown-out crasher crust and are probably closer to a spontaneous and energetic blend of LEBENDEN TOTEN and UNARM, and I can’t help thinking of ANTIPRODUCT, too (possibly because of the shouted vocals). At times, I don’t totally understand what they are going for and it can get a little messy, but I certainly like the raw DIY spirit of the band (shoutout for the sloppy cut’n’paste cover that I absolutely love), and would grab the EP if I came across it.
Seven minutes of pure floor-stomping hardcore. McAllen, Texas’s FALSE FRONT play stripped-down skinhead hardcore with one boot planted on WARZONE, NEGATIVE APPROACH, and the TEMPLARS, and another boot on newer bands like LIBERTY & JUSTICE (with whom they collaborate on track three), with additional blastbeats à la early AGNOSTIC FRONT and DEAD KENNEDYS surf riffs here and there. Each breakdown catches you off guard, as FALSE FRONT manages to make things groovier and more aggressive with each twist and turn. Lyrically, it’s all about protecting hardcore from tourists, poseurs, and fake scene politics, and these boot boys ain’t playing around, so they just might revoke your hardcore card.
I had no idea what to expect from a band calling themselves GIRTH CONTROL, with sleeve art of an over-served radical octopus, and songs like “Girthquake” and “Alright Mom.” To be honest, I had given up on ska punk for the last thirty or so years, until two friends added weight to what I thought was a dead sound. The first was a woman named Sally who lives in Kalamazoo MI. After she explained very plainly and unapologetically the nuances and positive psychological effects that ska punk can have on a person living in the gray, cloudy, Midwest, I was open to giving it another shot. The second was when Aaron P, one of my favorite drummers I’ve had the pleasure of playing with, told me that he’d been doubling his duties in TWO MAN ADVANTAGE and a new ska band he’d been playing with. I mean, if Aaron and Sally are giving it a shot, then who am I to pick something up and put it down in front of progress? I mean ska-gress. However, with no expectations, What Got You Stoked in the First Place has somehow landed exactly where it has to be, where there is no other place it could be. GIRTH CONTROL is exactly the right part of the fun, partying, honest good time, sip-swiggin’ ska punk band they need to be. I love the group vocals, mirroring all the best Rad Girlfriend bands, and the choruses have tunneled into mine brains to now live forever. I think it is important that the one thing that Sally, Aaron, and GIRTH CONTROL proved to me is that although ska punk songs can sound happy, silly, bouncy and so on, they can be much more than that with a reflective sadness, community, and authenticity blended in. Pick this 10” up and put it down on your turntable.
I’ll hold your hand while I’m telling you this, but this JAZZ record? Well, it ain’t no jazz record. Bummer? No. Not really. It’s still an amazing record. The energy is unmatchable, and there is so much fun to be had in all of the thirteen post-post-punk bangers it offers. Expressive vocals, earworm bass lines, sharp guitars, clever drums, and creative synth parts just add up to something so unique, refreshing, and weird in a very endearing way. I absolutely adore everything about this record.
The THINGZ from Long Beach take the A-side with “Heavy Metal Back Pocket,” a lo-fi stomp run almost entirely on organ and bass, and the lyrics really capture a moment in four lines: “AC/DC concert shirt / Sit cross-legged in the dirt / You are mine eternally / Outside of society.” That’s the sound of being a kid next to your crush, and I was really touched by it. “Gastropod of Doom” follows as the theme song to a slug invasion, with vocals that reminded me of the B-52’S. KING FLAMINGO, a California duo who describe their music as “astro surf” or “goo wop,” take a more laid-back approach on the flipide: “Astro-Blast-Off/Re-Entry” lays spoken vocals and organ over twangy reverb, and “Moonbeam Beach” drops the tension for something prettier, a half-sung memory of a night on the sand. They’re going for atmosphere, where the THINGZ are going for a house party. It’s a good pairing, though I kept flipping back to the THINGZ side.
LIFE’S TORMENT is out of Las Vegas, and their dual-vocal delivery reminds me of CIRCLE TAKES THE SQUARE, but way more punk (is that possible?). MERKED out of San Jose is a three-piece that plays hardcore that drifts from what sounds like COMBAT WOUNDED VETERAN to beatdown to youth crew in a single volley. If this split had arrived in the early ’00s, there’s no doubt in my mind this would have been a top listen. Yeah, it’s a chaotic trip, and yes it’s noisy, it’s these qualities that make it fun.
Portland, Oregon duo SEA MOSS starts this split off with pure sorcery of gnarly synths and electronics layered on top of masterful drumming that conjures rhythmic seizures. Even though it’s stripped down in its instrumentation, it’s by no means a type of music you could call minimalistic. It’s very “extra” in every way that actually counts, and scratches a part of my brain that not much else can reach—that explains why I fell in love with this split in the first ten seconds. And when we switch over to the MISCOMINGS side, we are greeted with more of a conventional band setup of guitars, drums, bass and vocals…but of course, the music is anything but conventional. It’s extremely chaotic, unbelievably fun, and reminiscent of some of my all-time favorite bands PRE and LOCUST. From eerie and deranged melodic parts to noisy, grinding sections, MISCOMINGS deliver all that you could ever need from a noise rock band. I know I wouldn’t be able to do it justice if I were to dissect their sound further, so I’ll just say that it’s some of the best music I’ve heard in a while. On top of both bands giving this split their absolute best individually, the two amazing and aptly-titled collaborative tracks, “Seacomings” and “MissMoss,” perfectly summarize the whole split. Even though SEA MOSS and MISCOMINGS don’t sound that much alike, they’re spiritually the best pair possible and the chemistry between them is priceless. All in all, Big Tube Scene is undoubtedly a ten out of ten in my book, and I’m ready to die on this hill.
Birthing a strange breed of avant-garde hardcore, MUSCLE is an innovative trio out of Baltimore. Their simultaneously sleek and meaty racket originates solely from a drummer, bassist, and vocalist who conspire to create a strikingly cohesive sound. This physical-release-only live tape lets you hear it in all of its raw glory across thirteen songs. Due in part to the sparse instrumentation, their style is hard to pin down, and when they refer to themselves as “the ABBA of no wave,” the description seems surprisingly plausible. It’s artistic passion pinned to embryonic grooves as if guitars were obsolete.
Big, chugging riffs abound on PRIVATE HELL’s latest EP To Dust You Shall Return, a tasty four-track metallic hardcore/crossover EP. Bands like SEPULTURA and NAPALM DEATH are cited as influences, and while the depth of my knowledge in regard to this style is limited and a little basic, I think it’s fair to say they sound like POWER TRIP. Some blastbeats here, some great, groovy bass lines there, and loads of buzzsaw guitar work add up to a heavy eleven minutes. Recommended; check out the final track, “Charred Remains of a Dying Star.”
Originally a CD-R released in 2002. This is political punk/Oi!/hardcore from Bratislava, Slovakia, budding with exactly what you’d want from a band that’s been causing an aural commotion for over twenty years. I gotta admit that I have no idea what they are saying, so when I’m on a walk and singing along, I hope my echolalia is accurate enough that ROZPOR wouldn’t be embarrassed that I’m a fan, and not so inaccurate that a passerby that who speaks Slovak doesn’t think I’m singing something wildly off-base. I need to mention that within the weight of music and vocal tone, ROZPOR doesn’t miss an opportunity to randomly sneak in surprises that subtly underscore their sense of humor and humility. I was completely consumed by this LP, and I think you might be, too.
Four songs of dingy, lo-fi, blown-out garage punk. With incredibly limited information available, the best I can discern is that SNAREWAVES is a solo recording project based out of Lansing, Michigan. This tape is exceptionally short, containing only about three-and-a-half minutes of music—I think that makes these cassettes C-2 length, which to me means as soon as I sit down after hitting play, I’m already getting up to flip the tape. I have probably listened to this thing 30 times while trying to write this review. The songs are solid, even if they don’t leave much of a lasting impression individually. With a previous cassette out on garage rock powerhouse Painters Tapes and now this one on Knuckles On Stun, any garage or egg-punk enthusiast should have a pretty good idea of what they’re getting themselves into with SNAREWAVES. If you end up being one of the 25 people who get a physical copy of this cassette, whatever you do, do not get the O-card even the slightest bit damp. Merely picking it up to scan the cover for information on the band (of which there is none) made the ink begin to smear all over the damn place.
Brazil’s SUBVERMES don’t waste time dressing up their message. Rumo ao Pior is fifteen tracks of D-beat-fueled crust that occupies land somewhere between DISCHARGE, LÄRM, and RATOS DE PORÃO. With enough grind flashes to keep things frantic, the production is filthy without turning into mush. Lyrically, it’s all anti-fascism, anti-authoritarianism, environmental destruction, Indigenous struggles, and class warfare. Protest music in the best sense, backed by real conviction. Tossing in covers of DISCHARGE and DOOM makes perfect sense, because SUBVERMES clearly understand the tradition. Loud, fast, and pissed.
When I saw that the digital download for this was $9 on Bandcamp, I scoffed at first, but following the conclusion of the first track “Luminous Events,” I thought, “Okay, fair.” The vocals here are absolutely incredible. The range, dynamics, and control are god-tier. They sound like a total pro, so much so that I had to listen to these tracks a handful of times because I kept getting sucked into the singer’s spell! The music itself is very desert/space rock-ish. Reminds me a bit of early MONSTER MAGNET and QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE. Come to think of it, this sounds like it came from a time capsule buried in the ’90s. Solid work here; it goes by fast, so give it a couple spins like I did.
A full-sized serving of fun, earnest, catchy power pop. It’s apparent right from the jump that TEENAGE FACES have an ear for this style, even beyond just wearing their influences on their sleeves. I assumed their namesake was an EXPLODING HEARTS reference before I clocked the tracklist containing three cover songs—one from Portland’s finest, one NERVES track, and the third tackling Elvis Costello’s “Welcome to the Working Week.” These covers are done well and are clearly little love letters to the genre. The originals that make up the meat of the record probably won’t surprise the listener at this point, but again, they make for a great little listen. Those originals skew a little more early ’80s power pop, with a bit more emphasis on the pop than the power, and the vocals sound like they could be your coworker, or your cousin, or the bank teller, but I think that adds to the charm here. I’ve spent most of my life obsessing over this music and I see it like pizza. There’s no such thing as bad pizza.
Super catchy punk music that’s got a little bit of jangle to it; this is amazing. When you find out that it’s from New Zealand from the late ’70s/early ’80s, you can definitely hear it, but it also makes it all the more impressive. You can hear the influence of the CLEAN in there, for sure. Also, just a fantastic title for a record.
This is the best lo-fi Maine horror speed-punk I have ever heard. It’s also the only entry into that particular gnarly niche that I’ve encountered, but let’s not split hairs. The songs are fast and thrashy, reminding me a bit of the earliest EVIL ARMY material, which feels like an even more appropriate comparison after discovering that they were recorded around the same time in the early 2000s. This three-piece was apparently short-lived and highly revered, and now you can treasure ‘em forever on this blood-red 7”.
Ahh fuck yeah! ZAC-A-RAMA! out of Boca Raton does noisy, bad things with synthesizers, and I want more. This cassette is the ZAC-A-RAMA! Hyena! demo with an additional banger included. Punk, metal, hip hop, and co-opted media swirl in the basura slurry ZAC-A-RAMA! creates. Self-deprecating lyrics screech through blown transistors over equally distorted, mile-a-minute synth beats, chopped up with sound clips that beleaguer the joke, and breakdowns that make me want to throw on baggy joggers and put cardboard on the floor. Industrial punk, synth-punk, I don’t care, ZAC-A-RAMA! fucking brings it all and is sure to blow the roof off any party.
With every compilation I have ever listened to, I always look for a few distinct things. First, did these bands give their best, or did they submit throwaway tracks? Second, do I get the feeling that I’d want to stop into their hometown for lunch and record shopping? Third, and most importantly, do I want to seek out music from bands I’ve never heard before? Before I get started, there are two things to keep in mind when you read this review. The first is that this is a live record, but the sound is clear and the bands all deliver a high-energy performance that makes you feel like you are right there. The second thing is that I love this very, very much. When I see a DCxPC record in my in box, I get stoked, and this one seems to have set a new bar for me. I’d like to call out a few fave songs but I would be listing every band and their accompanying song. On this record, you’ve got it all: punk, hardcore, ska, charged politics (personal and global), circus music, a boundless energy, and commitment to the art. So, where are we as far as my personal questions about comps? Did these bands give their best? Yes. Do I get the feeling that I’d want to stop into their hometown for lunch and record shopping? No, I’d want to hang out with them instead of shopping and maybe we’d become friends. And most importantly, do I want to seek out music from bands I’ve never heard before? Oh my golly, I might not make a car payment this month, but that’s OK because I’ll just stay home and listen to all of the records I just bought. Also, the vinyl is a beautiful neon pink, so it has that going for it.
AUTOMATIC LOVERS deliver a juicy blend of attitude and energy that’s become increasingly absent from speakers in recent decades. These spunky Spaniards achieve their searing and stripped-down sound the same way ’90s trash rockers like the HUMPERS and the DEVIL DOGS did—by setting their sights on ’70s punk’n’roll in the vein of the VIBRATORS and the HEARTBREAKERS. Pure, authentic, and sweat-soaked fun ensues. But even with its two choice cover songs hammering home the band’s motivation, this debut album is not merely a procession of typical, however well done, rock stereotypes. Garage turkeys are sure to recognize some of these riffs, but not all of ‘em. At least not immediately. Well-crafted tunes like “WGTEYEO” and “Twist and Die” move the group’s inspiration into cool new places, continuing the tradition instead of just dressing up in it. Factor in the traces of Scene Killer-era CARBONAS and what are probably the most blazing guitar solos we’ve heard in 2026, and you’ve got a smoking hot recipe for success. It’s an automatic thumbs-up over here.
Hell yeah—nice and sludgy, noisy as hell, and chorus pedals completely maxed out. Is it passé to make Spinal Tap references in the year of our lord 2026? Because if not, these guys bring it all the way up to eleven. This needs to be listened to as loud as possible. My one and only complaint: the vocals do not match the energy of the music. Now, I’m not naive enough to think that this wasn’t done intentionally, but when your band is playing music equivalent to the MELVINS on mescaline, I think it does it all a great disservice when your vocalist sounds like a mopier version of BECK. There are a couple tracks where the singer comes a bit more out of the pocket, like on the song “Scapegoat,” sounding a bit more like a poppier LARRY LIFELESS than your standard ’90s rock radio idol. Speaking of which, there are a handful of covers on this slab from bands like NIRVANA and SONIC YOUTH. Fun album if you like the heavier stuff. Worth a spin.
This is ferocious, this is from Cleveland, and this is hard-as-nails powerviolence. Released on the prolific hardcore label Delayed Gratification, this is the first demo tape from CENSER, who are certainly not here to spread joy and happiness to the punters. I am sure the members of the band are experienced and have been doing the same thing for some years, as the music is perfectly executed and excellently ticks all the powerviolence boxes you’d expect of a top band, from the heavy moshing moments to the blasting madness. I am not the biggest fan (or indeed connoisseur) of the genre and I wouldn’t personally pick up the tape, but this is brilliantly done and I can imagine the fans of this peculiar subgenre that has survived a couple of decades now going crazy for CENSER.
Now it all makes sense! I always wondered why/how No Idea Records was so tight with PLANES MISTAKEN FOR STARS, and now that I’m hearing this pre-PLANES MISTAKEN FOR STARS band, I get it. This falls perfectly in line with MOVING TARGETS, DOUGHBOYS, SERPICO, SLEEPER, etc. This DISMISS demo is hard-driving and melodic, and the songs are tinged with enough aggression that were this to have come out in 1995 or 1996 as a full-length rather than as a demo cassette, well, who knows. We would not have had PLANES MISTAKEN FOR STARS, but we would have had one hundred more DISMISS tunes. Look, I need to be clear that I’m not a nostalgic dope looking back on yesteryear with fogged-over memories. I like this because of attentive song structures and raw-nerve quality, perhaps in part due to the poorer recording. Nonetheless, I feel it’s rare these days to hear something as impassioned as these DISMISS demo songs from thirty years ago. It looks as though physical qualities are limited and will plop in your box on a random vinyl color. If I said anything that taps your interest, then you should check this out and go start a band.
Billed as a fusion of egg-punk and dungeon synth, there is absolutely no information about DOG HEX that I can find other than the fact that this was recorded “in a hot room.” While I am not a dungeon synth expert, as a punk with a solo synth project that occasionally gets lumped into the dungeon synth genre, I have listened to enough to understand the basic idea. It seems like a lot of people think that the use of any cheap keyboard automatically qualifies your music as dungeon synth—which brings us to DOG HEX. This debut seven-song cassette features mostly spastic, aggressive egg-punk, but does have a few instrumental synth tracks, hence their attempt to claim both genres. It is my understanding that dungeon synth is fundamentally an atmospheric genre, with long compositions built around the slow cultivation of mood. With the longest song on this cassette being under a minute, it’s difficult to imagine what atmosphere can truly be built within such a timeframe. Looking at DOG HEX’s instrumental tracks through the lens of building an immersive world through their soundscapes, these songs essentially amount to a quest to the fridge. This cassette is actually pretty ripping, with “Mantra” being the standout track, blistering through verse/chorus repetition enough to get stuck in your head even at only 45 seconds in length. The band’s self-posed question of “What do you call a mix between egg-punk and dungeon synth?” feels like the build-up to an incredibly niche one-liner. I suppose I would say that “dungeon synth as played by ADHD-riddled egg-punkers” works as a description for DOG HEX. Personally, I would view things a little differently. This omelette of darkness seems more like the mashup between egg-punk and mysterious guy hardcore, as there is no information to find whatsoever on the project, its members, or anything else. The eggs are undeniable, the dungeon is still under construction.
During the mid-’80s, EXCLAIM was creating punk based on the work of DISCHARGE, CRUCIFIX, and CRASS in Akita, Japan, far from the hotbeds of Tokyo and Osaka, which is also why their Fusillade LP is just now creeping out into the light of day. EXCLAIM captures the classic aggro punk aesthetic of fellow countrymen G.I.S.M., but also occasionally hits a noisy garage sound à la TEENGENERATE, and there are even noise moments that immediately recall early MELT BANANA. In all, Fusillade is an engaging and enjoyable trip, and if you’re into Japanese punk, this is a must-have.
Bay Area degenerates FENTANYL double down on everything that made the first LP so addictive, but the songwriting’s tighter and the weirdness cuts even deeper. Eight tracks of off-kilter hardcore that mashes together the weirdness of UNITED MUTATION, NO TREND, DIE KREUZEN, and SIEGE, with flashes of modern freakiness like SPY and GAG. The guitar lurches instead of chugging as every song throws in some left turn before it overstays its welcome, and the whole thing feels wired and paranoid. At barely twelve minutes, it never wastes a second. Twisted hardcore punk that is actively trying to make everyone in the room uncomfortable, exactly as it should.
Sarah, Erica, Ruby, and Coach are FOURTEEN, and their Hokus Pokus Vapor 22 EP is eight songs of pure pop punk, the very best of the no-frills kind. If I had to put this onto a mixtape, I’d also include bands like SWEET BABY, BRENTS T.V., VANBULDERASS, POOPIEHEAD, WHEN PUBERTY STRIKES, SEWER TROUT, KAMALA AND THE KARNIVORES, and so on. Lyrics taking on big topics in some tunes, while others distill had-to-be-there inside jokes that probs only the band and close friends are tuned into. I’m stoked on this record. In my brain, I imagine that these four friends went into a secret studio inside a cargo van that’s been abandoned inside a parking garage, and for fifteen minutes, wrote and recorded these eight songs, then left and never talked about it again. And now we have this little regional important thing, like a dumb little town that has a special stone named after it to always remember that something great is always somewhere.
A discerning listen will leave you with more questions than conclusions here, but GALANTI is nothing if not compelling—a churning juggernaut of complex Eastern European hardcore infected with metalcore chugs and the kind of genre-bending diversions that make me think of the kids who got into heavy hardcore through SOAD (as opposed to SOA or SOD, if you know what I mean). Think about when Prank released that PESD album twenty years ago and it mostly flew under the radar, but the people who really listened to it got turned on their damn heads. Or the last PAINTBOX record (to continue the Prank theme)…this sounds like neither, but it defies convention in the same way. Nášivky Františka Malečka will require repeated listens to fully appreciate it and I’m not actually sure if I’m going to end up liking it, but that’s not the point. GALANTI is interesting, and they’re making me listen.
Arisen from the punkest of graves, this recently rediscovered artifact of early ’80s hardcore is a serious trip. The story of INTENSIFIED CHAOS traces all the back to the inaugural issue of this here institution, Maximum Rocknroll #1, which was packaged in with the Alternative Tentacles compilation Not So Quiet on the Western Front. Most of y’all familiar with this band will recognize them from having contributed the opening track of said comp, with their eponymously titled ripper “Intensified Chaos.” As the story goes, the group’s demo evaporated into the ether, lost to the spikes and studs of time all the way up until, well, now. So, here in all its glory is the official document of Orinda, California’s INTENSIFIED CHAOS, represented by the six songs from the original demo and nine live tracks to round things out. The obvious burning question is, of course, if this is worth its weight in wax, and I’m happy to dutifully report that it fucking rips! The influence of GBH is quite apparent, but geography fleshes out the context, calling forth the energy and savagery of CRUCIFIX and BLACK FLAG. I’ll dock them a point for the contrived British snarl, but that’s because I fucking hate John Lydon, and the guys probably didn’t. All said, this is an intriguing piece of punk history, and it holds up just fine 40-whatever years later.
KAOSQUAD out of Czechia returns with a full-length entitled Absolute Imbalance, and if you’re in the mood for grindcore, this is for you. Elements of stenchcore, death and black metal, and D-beat are embedded in the KAOSQUAD sound, as chugging riffs transfigure into searing runs, and vocals range from classic pig snort to banshee-on-the-moors to deliver brutal verbal attacks. Thick, primal rhythms undergird the whole ensemble and present in powerful, stompy beats and lightning-fast blasts. For many, Absolute Imbalance may lean too much towards the metallic side, but KAOSQUAD maintains the punk with social criticisms and absolute D-beat barnburners like “Shellshock.” If you’re looking to get your hackles raised and add a little stomp to your walk, then Absolute Imbalance is the way.
First of all, shoutout to any band still making tunes after over two-and-a-half decades. Whether you like the music or not, it’s objectively impressive to keep at it that long. Oi! from Montreal has a storied history, with countless bands having contributed to the sound and the scene. Now for the actual sounds here—I must say I wasn’t feeling great when this thing started. The slick production and the vocals being right at the front was almost a little jarring. By the second track, I got my sea legs and allowed myself to settle in and take in what was happening. By the fourth track or so, I was over it. Speaking of the sea, this thing just feels a bit too shambling for my taste, almost like it was indeed meant for pirates? Oi! Oi! Captain!
There’s definitely a punk’n’roll and grunge feel to this six-song record. There’s a sultry quality that can only be felt after last call and in the sticky and stinky breath of bars. I have the distinct feeling that MUFFIN woulda been on top of the college radio charts along with L7, MUDHONEY, HOLE, etc., in all the best ways. Heavy discount bass, and drums that hold back and then plop in to punctuate Madame Muffin’s vocals when needed. Lyrically, they walk the line of wit and sarcasm while maybe leaving you wondering if you might get stabbed for not reading the room correctly. Also, MUFFIN ends this with a pretty great cover of a secret band and song that you’ve probs not thought about since the early ’00s.
Just beyond the bizarre branding, you’ll find a raging garage sound and ’77 spirit delivered with a juvenile wink from Slovakia’s NAZI TAMPONS. The fi is lo, seating these rocking songs comfortably within a thick nest of noise to complement their style. This should appeal to fans of the DISCO LEPERS and the ZODIAC KILLERS who don’t mind a bit of dirt mixed into the merriment. It’s a bloody good time.
If you’re into hardcore punk and hear the word “pig,” two things typically come to mind: the cops, and POISON IDEA’s legendary guitar player. Cleveland’s PIG RIDES acknowledge both on Rides Again, Again, an ode to the illustrious guitar hero and hating the fuzz. Full of fury and snot, PIG RIDES rage through five hectic tracks that aren’t the most dynamic songs I’ve ever heard, but they do feature some cool guitar work and tons of energy to spare. If you like CHAIN WHIP, this will be right up your alley.
Another all-female four-piece, this time from Paris. Super catchy pop music, with the A-side zipping along and the B-side more measured. It’s also interesting to me that one cut is in French and the other in Spanish. There’s a definite garage feel going on here. You’re just teasing me with two cuts. I want more!
There’s something nostalgic going on here, and I don’t think that’s the intention. The STRESS BALLS play straight-up old school punk. It’s lo-fi, no-frills, and it scratches the itch. They aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel, but give you what they’ve got and have a lot of fun doing so! They remind me a lot of Chicago punkers PURE INTENTION, both in delivery and attitude. “2026” is my favorite track here, just dumb punk fun. It reminds me of a vanilla ice cream cone that you’re going to have 60 times this summer. Simple, fun, and classic. Could it be improved? Sure. Does it need to be? Fuck no.
Rough, shambling guitar riffs, clunky primitive drums, and spitting raw vocals with the minimalist heart-on-sleeve honesty that you’d get from RIVETHEAD and GOD EQUALS GENOCIDE. This EP has the excited spirit and energy that you’d expect from a band’s debut release, but this Fukui, Japan-based band has been releasing records since the mid-’90s, which is inspirational in and of itself.
Sometimes all you need is ten minutes of ripping, thrashy hardcore played with conviction, and By Any Means Necessary gets in, wrecks the place, and gets out. Texas’ TOXIC MENACE comes out swinging with four tracks of filthy, crossover-leaning hardcore that owes as much to CRYPTIC SLAUGHTER, CRUMBSUCKERS, and D.R.I. as it does to UK82. Fast parts crash into chunky mosh riffs without getting bogged down, and the whole thing has that loose, beer-soaked energy that makes you want to dive head first into a crowd. Touches on violence, urban decay, and general societal collapse without pretending to reinvent the wheel.
I’m not sure I can accurately describe how much I hate the opening track, “Human Being (Jelly Bean).” I’d be cool if I never heard it again. Dumb idea, great execution. The VORS play the type of punchy indie rock that can easily be called punk by publications and fans, but it isn’t punk! But it isn’t all bad, either. The second track, “You Treat Me Like an Asshole,” is three-and-a-half minutes of perfect summer fun. It’s somehow surfy and beachy without relying on any associated tropes. In another life, this chorus would slam and exert a little aggression, but that’s not what they do well! The VORS don’t need the aggression to keep you in. It’s sunny and fun while still retaining a rock edge. This is music for a beach party or a summer drive with friends smoking cigs and drinking warm beers.
Listen, all I gotta say is this: if you’re gonna go ahead and kick your record off with a WOODY GUTHRIE sample, then you best be jumping directly into a cover song immediately following it, especially if you’re a band from Oklahoma! I’d even give you a pass and let you bust out a harmonica solo!!! Anyway, this is pretty much your standard grind/powerviolence affair—the exact type of grind/powerviolence band you picture whenever anyone mentions that genre pairing. Decent enough. Drums sound great.
Philadelphia’s ZORN has steadily improved and found their proper footing since their inception, becoming something of an esteemed band with an identity of its own. I could not quite get into their previous recordings, but Return to Castle Death is a definite win. The members are not just experts at painting their faces or dressing up, they are actually brilliant musicians too, with a flair for writing cracking metal punk songs for heathens and medieval cosplayers alike. I enjoy that they firmly build on the old school metal punk influences but still offer something different that can appeal to many chapels. Classic bands like GISM, ZOUO, and other Japanese metallic punk acts, early diabolical legends like VENOM or BATHORY, and of course their neighbours DEVIL MASTER all got invites on this brand new album. ZORN is a band I would love to see pair up with RIGOROUS INSTITUTION, as both share a passion for the catchy hook (the detail that makes a fine song into a good song) and each have their own identity. There seems to be a revival of old school metal punk, and I really cannot complain when it is inspired and done that well.
Curiosities abound in the approach this English group has taken on what I perceive to be their debut LP. A ragged street rock foundation underpins the album, yet with each track, they stab out in disparate directions. The opener, “Haircut,” offers a punchy four-chord romp that, albeit repetitive, is catchy with a distinct hook and showcases the APPALLED’s most effective weapon: a powerful vocal delivery. This bloke has a set of killer pipes on him. Next song pulls the wheel towards the pub, with a melodic undertone poking out. No radical departure from the formula there, but as the songs wear on, the genre-hopping becomes more apparent, touring through hardcore, UK82, ’77 punk, Oi!…the potency begins to dilute. Nothing egregious, nothing shocking, and I’ll spare you the pun and just say that if they were to pick a lane, the APPALLED could probably leave a more memorable mark.
What began as a somewhat fresh take on punk has become just another ingredient on the menu. I have started to notice a pattern recently where egg-punk is treated less like a genre and more as a component in a fusion dining experiment gone wrong. This is certainly the first time I have encountered the combination of egg-punk and cowpunk. What does that equate to, farm-fresh punk? It is an odd flavor profile, that’s for sure. Perhaps stranger still is that BUG SWALLOW seems to be a Muppets-themed band, with a particular focus on Kermit the Frog. This Calgary outfit has all the expected egg-punk ingredients of guitars, bass, synth, and drum machine, but the addition of twangy banjo and harmonica pulls things into bluegrass/jug-band territory. Eight confusing songs make up this self-titled debut cassette. To the band’s credit, there are moments where the recipe comes together—whenever BUG SWALLOW eases off the novelty, the songs become considerably more palatable. Unfortunately, they lose me whenever they lean too heavily into the gimmick, particularly on the banjo-heavy, “swing your partner ’round and ’round” hoedown entitled “Way Back Here.” I absolutely understand that egg-punk is a silly genre and should not be taken too seriously, but I guess when it comes to egg, I prefer it as the main course, not as a novelty side dish scooped up at the buffet line.
The A-side here is a straight classic. No-bullshit bass and drums lay down a foundation that is so gloriously simple—they don’t need to do anything else, and you don’t want them to do anything else. Storytelling vocals are barked passively while the guitar spits repetitive hooks into the verses, and then the chorus drops and all of the simplicity coalesces while the guitar takes off, refusing to play a power chord at any point on the damn record. The flip is a slower, gloomier take on the same formula , a re-interpretation of the freaked-out A-side from their 2009 “Criminal IQ” 45 that I haven’t listened to in so long that I feel like I’m rediscovering them all over again here. It was great then, but this version of CLAW TOE lands even better. BIRTHDAY PARTY, PHANTOM LIMBS, and BUZZCOCKS fans will rejoice.
I am not often taken by surprise when it comes to raw punk music, and I always manage to conceal it whenever I am so as not to spoil my cool blasé look, but CLEAN NEEDLE is a pretty good surprise. It is a one-man hardcore operation from Texas as I understand it, and this is the project’s first vinyl output after a couple of tapes. Unsurprisingly, the main focus is to unleash raw (and I mean proper raw), direct, and fast ’80s hardcore punk for the unwashed. The vibe is clearly old school, especially on the fastest (and best) numbers, while others can be said to be more pogo-oriented and spikier. A fan of CHAOS UK would enjoy this a lot, I reckon, and because of the organic, primitive sound (not to mention the visuals), you could be tricked into believing that CLEAN NEEDLE is a much older project than it actually is. The vocals are very gruff however, to add some extra aggression I presume, but I don’t think it works well with every song. A very fun EP on the whole.
I’ve been a fan of DIÄT since the Positive Energy LP—I’m a sucker for their cold punk rock. When I saw Iron Lung had released a live recording, well, let’s just say I was stoked. S.O. 36 is a legendary Berlin venue, and the night that DIÄT played there in September of 2022 was most certainly a special night, as the recording is alive with frenetic energy. The setlist included some of my favorites like “Foreign Policy,” “Dogshit,” and “Dead Body,” all of which sound accurate, fresh, and dynamic in their live presentation. If you’ve never listened to DIÄT, this is a great place to get started, as this recording covers material from the band’s near-decade run. As a fan, this is an unexpected gift and a perfect encapsulation of DIÄT.
Sealed digs way deep into the ’80s UK punk archives with this one, a first-time vinyl redux of the five-song 1983 demo from Aylesbury’s EFFIGY, so obscure that “it wasn’t even uploaded to YouTube” (take that, RUDIMENTARY PENI and DOLLY MIXTURE). Much like LOST CHERREES, RUBELLA BALLET, and other similarly-minded bands of the era, EFFIGY haunted the liminal space between anarcho-punk and danceable, goth-tinged post-punk, with relentless fixed-beat drums, propulsive bass lines, lyrics largely focused on paganism and witchcraft which further an air of mystique, and vocalist Nett’s defiant, fiercely melodic vocals guiding the way like a beacon through fog (machines). “Reaching for the Light” has all of the dark, anthemic drama and searing hooks of a femme-punk should-have-been classic (the MO-DETTES and SIOUXSIE dwelling in the same squat?), and the wound-up pop blitz of “Ghost” is almost BUZZCOCKS-esque, complete with scrappy guitar solos, while “Isobel” trades off between sparse, guitar/vocal-only verses and more urgent, desperate choruses in a way that brings to mind FATAL MICROBES/early HONEY BANE. Has my name all over it, a total no-brainer.
