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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!
Fifteen tracks of scabby, unsettling noise rock with only one song clocking in over a minute. In a genre where repetition and endurance are cornerstones, the brief blasts here never overstay their welcome, hitting you with barf vocals, syncopated dirge riffing, and pounding drums like a HARVEY MILK or MELVINS Whitman’s Sampler. It’s rad gutter noise punk in small doses, perfect for short attention spans or repeat listens.
Arkansas cannot be said to be the most glamorous place of the Empire (or is it?), and judging from the ferocity of BURNED UP BLED DRY’s first album, it might be an additional source of anger. If Next Stop… Dead Stop… is indeed the band’s first LP, they have been going (on and off) since 1996, so they are not exactly in a hurry (contrary to their style). I had not heard of the band before, but they were apparently classified as a powerviolence act back when the scene was replete with representatives of the genre. From what I hear on this LP, in spite of the shortness of the songs (26 songs in 25 minutes, so there’s no arsing around here) and the (very) fast numbers, I wouldn’t call them a strict powerviolence act. The songwriting is diverse, somewhat progressive, with many breaks and changes, from sludgecore songs to crusty moments, blasting hardcore madness or high-energy stomping hardcore, but heaviness and despair are always at the helm. A wild pony with many tricks, if you like. Because they developed in the ’90s and the LP is released on Prank Records (a defining label from that era), comparisons to works by the likes of HIS HERO IS GONE, DAMAD, and DEATHREAT are relevant, but BURNED UP BLED DRY sounds more urgent somehow—the powerviolence influence definitely affects this feel. The production is heavy and very guitar-driven, the angry vocals are raucous and expressive, and it stands as a very convincing work that could appeal to a wide audience of extreme music lovers (people with bad backs will definitely be into that), although the LP’s relentlessness can sometimes be a little overwhelming and might be hard for some to digest in one sitting.
Finding the right words for a review can be tricky when you don’t want to lean on quick subgenre labels. CASPA is a San Antonio synth punk band, in that they are a punk band with a synth player. What I hear in them isn’t a standard breakdown of a synth punk band or the modern-day simple equivalent of egg-punk, and requires separate assessments. The guitars, bass, and drums sit in mid-tempo punk/pop punk territory. The synth, sounding like a Fisher Price keyboard with only the highest octave working, plink-plunks catchy lines over the pop-laden songs. The final layer, the vocals, swing between sing-songy hooks and high-pitched squeals, sitting roughly three times louder than the instruments. While I know everyone doesn’t share my mindset that vocals should be treated as just another instrument, the idea that the vocals are somehow three times as important as anything else is confusing to me. So much of this cassette is very high-pitched, and I’m relieved that my advanced tinnitus from years of loud gig attendance hasn’t deprived me of the ability to hear the frequencies on this CASPA cassette. CASPA exists on a frequency all its own, above 3,000 Hz. It’s clear that the label releasing this cassette and the one that has already done a vinyl version are both incredibly excited about the band, and there are surely reasons for that. Based on this cassette alone, however, I feel nothing but exhaustion after just one listen. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on the dog, who bolted as soon as the tape started. Perhaps there are even higher CASPA frequencies not perceptible to the human ear equally prevalent on this release.
Following a couple singles and a full-length in 2023, CRACHE is out with the Éclaircie Sauvage cassette (via XTRO in the States and Howlin’ Banana and Ganache Records in France). This synth punk quartet hailing from Marseille brings us five tracks of full-send energy, with everybody slamming their instruments and voices to a breaking point, bringing synth and hardcore to a mostly holy union. That said, they aren’t relentless, and offer plenty of moments of moodiness (“Rigoletto), of doomy outros (“Confusion Générale”), and what I assume is tongue-in-cheek lyrics (“Ballade”) featuring a more typical, slower tempo and high-register “la la la”s over the chorus. No way to not have fun with this one.
POGOWOLVES are tough to nail down—there are elements of wild Japanese hardcore (thinking about the backing vox and the You-esque bass), and they seem to be leaning towards a metallic STARVING WOLVES approach; it’s a lot to handle. On the flip, DOGFIGHTT is early UK trash and ’80s Sunset Strip energy, total ENGLISH DOGS and INEPSY vibes with searing lead vocals. Both bands are from Kuala Lumpur and both demand further investigation.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—I’m a sucker for lo-fi, noisy, crasher punk, and EKIBYO out of Florida does not disappoint. The Condemned to a Worthless Existence cassette contains five original songs and a RUDIMENTARY PENI cover, all slathered in distortion so dense you’ll swear there’s a swarm of bees coming through your speakers. Indignant lyrics critique multiple aspects of imperialistic societies with a rapid-fire delivery while a heavy rhythm section pounds out primal beats. EKIBYO certainly isn’t attempting to reinvent the wheel, but Condemned to a Worthless Existence is worth a listen if you’re in the mood.
This has a real OFF WITH THEIR HEADS/DILLINGER FOUR feel to it. It’s sloppy but authentic, and chock-full of hooks and sing-along parts. This has all the perfect elements of a “windows down, car full of friends shouting along with the songs” record. I feel like Long Island, NY has been churning out more and more of this kinda stuff in recent years. Simple and memorable, passion-filled, with vocals bleeding through the guitars with melody and honesty. Apparently they’ve been cranking out the hits for four years. Also, I gotta talk about the sleeve with a big ol’ grizzly holding a dandelion as the fish jump past him. I love it. I’d wear that shirt.
GOLD CUP’s The Piss Has Been Taken is a six-song cassette from a Manchester four-piece who’ve been kicking out really solid rockers since 2023. This release is a little less egg-punky than some of their earlier material, but the fuzzed-out vocals over hard-driving rock’n’roll keep things moving and let a killer bass tone do a lot of the heavy lifting. At times, it reminded me of the KIDS, that same kind of locked-in, no-frills energy where the songs don’t need to be clever because they’re too busy being good. The playing is tight, the recording suits the music perfectly, and every listen pulled me in a little deeper. The limited cassette run is already sold out, but the whole thing is up on Bandcamp, so do yourself a favor and check them out.
Vancouver is absolutely filthy with excellent punk bands, so it’s no surprise to see yet another show up in my review pile. HUGE PRICK (great name) plays totally blown-out and over-the-top hardcore that sounds fried to a crisp and grimy in the best way possible. This seven-track, six-minute-long tape boasts all the abrasive fun you could ask for, including the riff from BLACK SABBATH’s “War Pigs” and a quick refrain of the chorus of “We’re a Happy Family” by the RAMONES. Check this one out; start with “R’N’R Dickhead.”
Another wild release from the gutters of Buffalo, NY. ISAMATIC GURU sounds like Mark Mothersbaugh fronting early WEEN. At times, the music sounds like it could be theme music for an episode of Pee-wee’s Playhouse, and at other times, it sounds like a mad scientist drum machine experiment gone awry. There’s a feeling that it could all fall apart at any moment, but it never does; it’s tightly orchestrated with skronky guitars, drum machines that move like a cityscape, and bass lines that hold the fort and keep a cohesive thread throughout. Clocking in at just over five minutes, the songs themselves feel like short bursts of punk-fried krautrock, rather than fully fleshed-out tunes. It’s a fun listen and it sounds like they had fun making it. The vocals add to the chaos; they feel like they are part of an inside joke that you weren’t part of but now you’re in on it, too. I found myself repeating the line “Go a little easy on the salt next time” randomly for like a week straight. No frame of reference or context provided, but it wormed its way into my brain and that’s gotta mean something. Overall, it’s fun and dare I say funky, but funky in more of a “my bandmate hasn’t showered this whole tour” way than a “did you hear that dentist shred that eight-string bass solo” way. It won’t please everyone but I found it to be a breath of fresh funk in a season dominated by hardcore releases.
One of those doom vehicles that teeters on the edge of stoner rock and the more metal-oriented grunge acts like ALICE IN CHAINS and SOUNDGARDEN. Those last two bands might not be the favorite flavors of your average MRR reader, but I am absolutely smitten by this album. Slow, low, and fuzzy, but a bit more nuanced than your typical doom venture as the vocalist swaps between brooding, melodic crooning and blood-soaked snarling. The same can be said about the actual music as well—sweeping, atmospheric desert jams melded with your classic BLACK SABBATH-esque riffs. Each song is its own epic adventure, and I got lost wandering around each one. This is a fantastic record, and you would be doing yourself a favor by spinning it a couple times. When it comes time to discuss great Midwestern music scenes, Madison is not talked about nearly enough. Spread the word!
MASSACRE SYSTEM out of Richmond, Virginia plays noisy, raw D-beat punk. Their self-titled cassette offers four tracks that blur, blend, and bleed with squelching lead-ins and outros. My personal favorite is “War Crime Technology.” If you like things like ENZYME, HERESY, or YELLOWCAKE, then be sure to check out MASSACRE SYSTEM.
I’ve been aware of this band forever, but never listened to any of their music. I’m not sure why. Maybe I didn’t like the name? Or the logo? Both terrible reasons not to at least check a band out. I just did some checking. They’ve been around since 1981. Jesus. This record originally came out in 2002. Well, it’s been my loss. I can’t speak for all of their records, but this one is memorable. Punk at times and more poppy at other times, but it’s always catchy and melodic. There’s also a goofiness (in a good way) that seems to be a consistent theme. At some points, it reminded me of WALL OF VOODOO. Might be the vocals. I’m glad that I’ve finally seen the light.
The ten-song In the Desert opens with a short, slow number powered by Jeff Byers’s scratchy vocals before swinging into “MR,” a noisy post-punk rager that hit me like a slightly less chaotic HOSE GOT CABLE and ended up being the high point of the whole record. NORTHEAST REGIONAL is a Richmond-area five-piece with three guitarists, which may or may not be strictly necessary, and a roster pulled from a deep bench of Virginia and D.C.-area bands. When Mike Morris takes over vocals on three of the tracks, the energy shifts hard toward indie rock, like, I dunno…the LEMONHEADS? That’s where the album loses me. The band bills themselves as post-hardcore, but a chunk of this lands closer to alternative rock, and the gulf between those two worlds gives the album a bit of an identity problem. The musicianship is sharp and the recording sounds great. I just wish they’d committed more to the aggressive side, where the songs really come alive. This could have been a killer 7”.
Think about those ’90s garage bands that were punk but heavy on the rock’n’roll—talking GAUNT, NEW BOMB TURKS, KARMA TO BURN, NINE POUND HAMMER here, the kind of shit that still felt pretty redneck, but the shit sounded punk. Enter Kentucky’s OUT., who were all of those things with a measured dose of AVAIL hooks and should-have-been grunge riffs thrown in because it was the ’90s. Noise Pollution released this stunner three decades ago on CD and are celebrating the birthday with a vinyl edition…it’s been a while since I listened to something that so clearly came from a different and specific time, and I like a record that takes me on a trip back in (to my own) time. Worth the price of admission for “Love Can Break Your Back” alone, a track that takes all of the above influences and still sounds like an early punk classic—this band was on some kind of trip, and this record is a welcome addition in a modern sea of copycats and try-hards.
I would have never guessed that these guys were from Chicago. This has that pure punk’n’roll energy that you get from bands like ANTISEEN, HOOKERS, and HELLSTOMPER—the type of acts you can really only find south of the Mason-Dixon line. They’d fit like a glove with that whole Confederacy of Scum gang. Sloppy and raw, but powerful and catchy. The bassist has this interesting picking style where they scratch the strings on each downstroke. It’s a neat touch that adds a little more chaos onto this pile of madness. According to their socials, the band is currently on a hiatus. I hope they make a return soon, cuz this is good stuff!
This is a new band from Vancouver that I have seen mentioned several times but never actually checked out. Don’t you feel overwhelmed by the number of new music being released all the time? How can one focus long enough on a given record in order to relate to it? You have four hours, and I want the copies on my desk tomorrow by 9:00 am. Thanks. I understand REAKTÖRI’s drummer also hits things in PHANE, and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the other two fellows have been involved in bands before as well. Because of the moniker’s translation into kanji, I was expecting a full-on Japanese-style hardcore band, but the main influence here is closer to beefy Swedish hardcore. ANTI CIMEX or DRILLER KILLER are not far, but the production is rawer (it is a demo, after all). There is a lot of echo and effect on the vocals, a little too much for my taste, and it took me a couple of listens to get used to it. It also reminds me of ’00s PDX bands like BLOOD SPIT NIGHTS or DOG SOLDIER, especially with the “charged punk” vibe of the recording. Pretty good shit, and I can imagine them being great live.
SOUNDS FAMILIAR does, in fact, sound familiar. This has all the elements of best friends who were most certainly in basements watching bands in the early ’90s. These four songs take on the sort of self-aware quality that came from that era. If you are into the PROMISE RING, FACE TO FACE, SILENT MAJORITY, SERPICO, etc., then you will absolutely love the transportive effect this will have on you. To be clear, this isn’t a mirror of past styles, but moreover a transfer point from then to now. Some call this melodic punk, some call this emocore, I call this a fine listen that will probs have folks over forty remembering their twenties for tens of minutes.
Brief tape containing four tracks of ultra-blown-out, low-end noise rock in about ten minutes. The good news is that these bad boys rumble with distortion stacked on distortion that will have the BODY or THOU enjoyers doing that clenched-jaw head nod along with the heaviness. The other good news is how quickly the tape is over, because the vocalist is not great. He sounds like Chris Cornell fronting CLUTCH, with a wailing, bluesy twang/growl situation going on that doesn’t quite fit the tectonic-plate-shifting riffage. Maybe it’s the perfect Venn diagram center for a certain subset of listeners, but not this one.
Is this smart music for dumb people, or is it dumb music for smart people? I really can’t decide, but I can say that it’s a good time. I was reminded of MILK from Japan while taking this in. Not because they sound alike, but more in the approach and the end product. While MILK’s hardcore is aggressive vocals paired with clean guitars, STRANDED flips that often on this LP. The instrumentation is indisputably aggressive, while the vocals feel rather clean. This obviously isn’t a groundbreaking approach, it still makes for a nice listen. Beyond that initial comparison, this album also takes some time to explore some other sounds, at times slowing down to sound a little like SPIRITUAL CRAMP, especially on the one-two grooves of “Helpline” and “Garage.” So if you’re a genius, give your brain a break and crank this one. And if your brain is fried from sniffing glue, feel free to crank this one as well to fill your head with something.
Oh, hell yeah! The St. Louis Horrendous New Wave-rs are back! Or, wait, that was a band called SHUX. Bummer. This here is SUX, a quartet of Seattleites cosplaying as HUNX before he got actually hunky. I gotta admit that I was not psyched to dive into this record after looking at its cover. But I also gotta admit that I was pleasantly surprised once I was in. “Get Outta My Way” kicks off the album with a revved-up garage punk number with quite a melodic hook. It reminds me of GAUNT, a comparison that I haven’t had the pleasure of making in I don’t know how long. Sick! Subsequent tracks never quite reach the heights of the album opener, but are solid enough. The tinny vocals are a result of being sung through a telephone receiver, which is a gimmick that I’d like to see die, and one that makes me groan a bit looking back at this record cover. But, whatever, these are kids who grew up post-landline, so I kinda get the allure, and the lo-fi aesthetic largely works. A thoroughly fine record.
Australian raw punk that is exactly up my alley. Raw production, D-beat for days, echoed vocal effect, and fuckin’ great riffs add up to a total crusher of a demo that deserves to be on your radar. If you dig fellow Aussies NO FUTURE and SHOVE, this is for you. Highly recommended.
The duo of Wilson and Dani bring their debut LP stateside by way of Feral Kid Records. Album #1 was released in their home country of Italy in 2024 on the heels of their Demo #1 cassette (all four songs of which appear on this debut). Their sound blends bedroom pop, on songs like“Goldfishes,” with oddball electronic/techno/hardcore breakdowns the band dubs “ROK”—perhaps most notably on the song “Spongebob ROK.” Wilson and Dani take turns signing, groaning, and delivering some fun-as-hell tunes throughout the whole album, though I think I still prefer the more typical song arrangements from the demo. That said, “Friends With Benefits” is my favorite of the new material, with a guitar that oscillates between picked-apart chords and palm-muted fifths, and more melancholic feel than the rest of the offerings. Great track. Between the mouthful and strange concept of a name (has anybody called??), and that ROK sound, this one will keep you guessing, but never leave you disappointed. Excited to see what’s next from these two.
The DIY spirit of Grow Your Own Records must be commended. Loyal to the ethos and principles of the original anarcho-punk wave, the label has steadily put out records from old school anarcho bands, be they old-timers or newer acts. This new split LP is somewhat in between, since AMASS is a new act made up of old-timers and CRESS has become this seemingly indestructible, lovable band since the ’90s. In any case, I always have a lot of time for the label and usually enjoy its releases. AMASS is made up of current members of ALTERNATIVE and the SYSTEM, and ex-members of much noisier bands from Northern England like EMBITTERED or BOXED IN. The band plays fairly traditional fast UK punk with dual male/female vocals. From the four songs included, I love the more aggressive, darker ones more (what a surprise, right?)—reminiscent of AUS-ROTTEN or a metal-free ANTI-SYSTEM or ANTISECT, but the clarity of the vocals gives more of a rather welcome punk rock feel, if you know what I mean (like CIVILISED SOCIETY?, maybe). The main criticism is that the production is clean, too much so for my taste anyway, and a more abrasive sound would have been more fitting for the genre. Great lyrics about consumerism and the class war. On the other side are five songs of the mighty CRESS, also hailing “from up north,” and showing for years that using a drum machine for your punk band could actually sound great and that drummers are a liability. CRESS is one-of-a-kind; the riffs are simple but very catchy and dynamic, they are one of the few bands that can have me dance (and when you know how much of a shit dancer I am, it’s not necessarily for the best). Clever, psychedelic, energetic (and yet hypnotic and dark at times) tribal anarcho-punk somewhere between CRASS and their followers SMARTPILS or CROW PEOPLE, but they have really created their own sound and they are a genuinely unique band so comparisons are really unnecessary. All in all, a good record with a relevant message. Old punks never die, indeed.
Obsessed with the production of this tape. Lo-fi and blown-out, it has that garbage noisecore element that was huge in the mid-2000s when everyone was still recording their albums straight to cassette through a single pen microphone and immediately uploading it to MySpace. I mean that as a compliment! I hope the tour went well. Tennessee Cold Cuts is an eclectic label and has been dropping some of the best releases over these last couple of years. Give this a play, and then dive into the rest of their discography.
Ripping hardcore punk from Athens, Georgia. Fast and no-frills, just the way it should be, CRYING FORM sounds like they’ve got some FIX and KORO in their DNA, and remind me a little of CHAIN WHIP as well as fellow Georgians CONSEC. Highly recommended, and looking forward to whatever these guys do next.
Every month when I get my cassettes to review, I scan the covers for something recognizable, either a band I already know or a release on one of a few labels that always puts out solid stuff. I then save those for the end of my review pile, as I often need a bit of a palate-cleanser after listening to some of the not-so-great releases coming out. XTRO has been one of those standout labels for me for a while now, always and consistently cranking out fun, synth-heavy egg-punk. Well, unfortunately they have really let me down with this one. What in the hell am I listening to? This has got to be the most confusing, nonsensical, unlistenable garbage I have ever had the displeasure of sitting through. I feel utterly betrayed. A lazier reviewer would have turned it off after the first godforsaken track, but this glutton for punishment is pushing through trying to find even a single positive thing to say about this horrible fever dream of a cassette. Twenty-six tracks. Over an hour long. Overstimulating hyperpop vomit spewing like a firehose strapped to my skull. A soundtrack seemingly written to accompany some modern, unfunny meme that I also don’t understand. Look, I get it, I’m in my forties, I’m sure this review will have me labeled as some old punk who “doesn’t get it,” but holy hell, the replay value of this is completely non-existent. I am halfway through and have begun fantasizing about self-immolation to escape the obligation of flipping the cassette. The hands of time are cruel. Oh analog gods, I implore you, feed your hunger, take a little nibble, eat this cassette mid-play and free me, free me from this auditory hellscape! I have always believed that there is beauty in simplicity when it comes to music. Well, this surely isn’t beautiful. Words cannot express how much I truly and utterly disliked listening to this cassette. Apparently this recording was released digitally in 2020, and XTRO just reissued it on cassette. Normally the label makes only 25 copies of their releases, but they did twice their normal run for this. All 50 have already sold out. Well, I’ve got a copy here if some moron who hates music wants it, otherwise it’s getting placed under one of my kitchen table legs to even out the wobble, or dubbed over. Horrid. Just horrid.
I have to admit that I am not well-versed in the Oklahoma punk scene (and even this would already be an understatement). This recording is the first from this young punk band, but you wouldn’t know it listening to these seven songs, as the music is focused, well-written, with many changes of pace and vibe requiring solid musicianship, and overall, it just sounds really good. Impressive indeed. Oddly, EARTHFUCKER (admittedly a bit of a mouthful for a name) sounds a lot like a ’90s band with their raging blend of sludge, crust punk, and destructive hardcore punk. I would bet that bands like HIS HERO IS GONE, BORN AGAINST, or DAMAD get some airplay at their headquarters. The production has an organic sensibility and retains a dirty feel that perfectly matches the intensity of songs that, in spite of tackling different subgenres, remain somewhat cohesive. Had you told me that it was an unreleased recording from 1997, I would have believed you (but hey, I am pretty gullible). The tone of the tape is desperate, too—you can tell that EARTHFUCKER is to be taken seriously, and while I cannot say that I regularly listen to this sort of band, Why Should You Survive? was certainly a pleasant ride.
Social media is trying to turn the world into a lifeless monoculture. AI slop and LLMs are trying to do the same to the written word. But it’s not all doom and gloom, because this FASHION BATHERS cassette exists. This is genuinely one of the most refreshing things I’ve heard in forever. If TONY MOLINA moved to Australia and got lost in the eggy scene out there, I suppose the outcome might be similar to From the High Desert. But these 30-second-long earworms hail not from down under, but from the mighty north in Manitoba. Only two of the eighteen tracks here even crack the one-minute mark, with almost half of them not even hitting thirty seconds. And while on paper that sounds like something that might not pull me in, in practice it destroyed my brain. Also, as these tracks come and go so quickly, I didn’t even realize until I finished the entire tape that it was the same nine songs done two different ways to make up the full tracklist—because it felt so fresh, I almost missed the repetition completely. Hell, make it 36 tracks next time.
Totally violent hardcore from Perth, featuring members of the now defunct SEMTEX 87. Reality Soldier sounds absolutely brutal, each track a blown-out burst cranked all the way up. The guitars are a fuzzy wall of noise, the vocals bark along foaming at the mouth, and the drumming is particularly gnarly, recklessly pounding away with plenty of machine gun fills peppered in throughout. GUNNER has some great song titles too, paying homage to Abel Ferrera’s infamous sleaze-fest with “The Bad Lieutenant,” as well as the brilliantly lifted “Here Comes the Warm Jets,” a song that is definitely not a cover of BRIAN ENO. Excellent and mean, for fans of Youth Attack Records.
Another killer entry into Hey Fuck You’s catalog. Hardcore punk with a powerviolence twist; MAN IS THE BASTARD dueling vocals, sub-30-second tracks, samples that are longer than the actual songs, and tongues firmly placed in cheek. If you love Slap-a-Ham, then you’ll be quite pleased with this one. These folks are going to need to do a split album with Chicago’s STINKY PETERSON.
INDIKATOR B out of Croatia has returned with a fresh EP that was released just before their East Coast to Midwest tour. The four-track 7″ is straightforward punk in the INDIKATOR B style of earnest presentation that cites 1980s Valley punk, but with lyrics in the band’s native language. If you dig AGENT ORANGE or early T.S.O.L., then you should absolutely give this EP a spin.
I’m reading that this is a one-man band. If you are a fan of the more milquetoast bands on Epitaph or Fat Wreck Chords, then you will dig this. I feel like maybe with a little more input from other musicians, it would move out of the guardrails and challenge the style a bit. The songs are good and the playing is competent, lots of hooks, fine drumming, regular lyrics for the genre, but he doesn’t sound completely committed to what he’s singing about. I really appreciate the effort, and I respect anyone that is willing to put something out there. However, this is just not doing it for me. Maybe putting together a band and playing live four or forty times would extract a bit more life from these songs.
I feel like I’m ill-equipped to review (or even give proper context to) such a classic recording, but the sounds are in the speakers and there’s a keyboard at my fingers, so here we go. MASSMEDIA were teenagers from Sundsvall, Sweden in the late ’70s, and they self-released a couple of stellar 45s before Siste Ackordet in 1980—hard-hitting, high-energy, hopelessly catchy punk with layers of backing vocals that seem to work only because there was no one telling them that they couldn’t put backing vocals absolutely everywhere. “Mörkret” is a dark ballad worth its weight in gold, landing somewhere between MISSION OF BURMA and early LIPS, followed by “Dirt Problem” which lays the foundation for members’ future work in early Swedish hardcore bands HUVUDVÄTT and HEADCLEANERS. Again, these were teenagers, and the songs are straight classics. Sista Askordet should be in print at all times—this is what starter punk should be.
Wow. If you like your garage music with dueling male/female vocals, you’ve come to the right place. If you also like it fuzzed-out as shit, this is for you. If you wouldn’t mind a hint of glam thrown in there, then this is going to be 100% right up your alley. All of that is delivered in a super-catchy and melodic fashion. There’s a whimsicalness throughout, but they are very serious about what they’re doing. These Canadians deliver with this one.
Cincinnati’s SEALER seals the deal with their debut self-titled LP. I could tell that I was in trouble from the first couple seconds of the album, and I was correct to assume so: this thing hits all the sweet spots for me. From gnarly riffs to eerie textures, noise rock to post-hardcore, in-your-face to slow-burn…it covers a lot of ground in just nineteen minutes. It’s the kind of music that leaves your neck muscles sore and gives you a permanent stank face. I’ll be on the lookout for whatever comes next from SEALER. Highly recommended.
A shock to the system from this brand new Richmond hardcore unit featuring members of several other raging bands like SUFFOCATING MADNESS and FUTURE TERROR. Sound-wise, there is a lot that this band owes to D-beat with the obvious blueprint of hardcore masters DISCHARGE, but it’s transformed into something more claustrophobic and unhinged, with some hints of classic Japanese punk and Scandinavian Jawbreak(er)-ing. The songs twist and burn out fast, leaving behind this lingering sense of unease. This is well captured by the amazing cover etched by Joe B., one of the best in the game. Before you know it, it’s over, so hold on tight and enjoy every second of it. Though the release is very short, it leaves a strong impression and is impossible to ignore.
I have no doubt in my mind that the SPACKLES put on a very raucous and unpredictable show, filled with friends and lovers dancing around the room and singing along. These songs would fit very well on a Very Small Records comp, chugging gallons of Olympia beer. All of this is to say that these songs are earworm catchy in a lo-fi, quirky way, and balance on the line of annoying and wonderful. All three tracks together clock in at six-and-a-half minutes, so there isn’t even enough time to wonder if you like it or not until you have to play it again and then again and then again, and now the tunes are stuck with you and there is no going back.
Active in Balen, Belgium from 1981–1985, Paul Dierckx, Frank Geys, Rudi Maes, and Walter Seigers made up T-RED, who may have only been known to those they toured in front of—until now. In 2024, the band recovered the recordings from their 1984 four-song promo cassette Partie, and remastered them for this release, with the subsequent eight tracks on this album coming from a 1985 demo. After 40 years on the shelf, T-RED’s version of post-punk/new wave feels bright and new and dark and moody and familiar. It feels exactly like it is: listening for the first time to a band contemporary to a scene whose catalogue of music you thought you’d exhausted. What else is out there lying in wait? This stands right up there with SAD LOVERS & GIANTS (who Dark Entries revived), or some of East Germany’s resurfaced bands from the Tapetopia project. While the first four tracks from the promo are definitely more polished, these songs don’t have the soaring production value/wall-of-sound that more major acts of the era showcased, but the pared-down, lo-fi plodding is irrevocably part of this band’s charm. For fans of all things ’80s post punk/icy new wave, I highly recommend this one for your collection.
Known for unpredictable onstage violence and nihilistic theatrics, it’s clear that the early inception of the VILETONES aimed to give audiences an experience to remember. So, it’s fitting that their debut record is led by such an unforgettable scorcher. A faithful recreation of the original, this Artifix Records edition is its first official reissue. Released in 1977 on the band’s own Vile Records label, the Screaming Fist EP is a cherished relic of first-wave fury and a staple in serious collections. Behind the killer Mick Rock photo cover, it sounds like it looks, and the A-side is an elite punk anthem. It doesn’t even matter what the other songs are, really. With iconic simplicity, the title cuts like a knife every time. Frontman Steven Leckie was one of the original punk agitators, relentlessly promoting the band and stirring up trouble everywhere he went. The legend of his antics often overshadows the music, but “Screamin Fist” still manages to shine through brightly.
California’s WITCH PISS truly stunned me with this one. It’s beautifully deranged in the most tasteful way possible. Unhinged vocals on top of sick bass lines, serrated guitar riffs, occasional ear-candy synth parts, and full-throttle drums make for an album that I’m super impressed by and honestly, kind of jealous of. Covering one of the best CURE tracks ever might have had a slight impact on my judgement, but oh well…this thing undeniably rules, and so does its artwork.
Heavy alt with ultra-powerful and theatrical femme vocals that absolutely steal the show. Perhaps not of interest to readers with DISCLOSE records on their shelves, but there are punks who got in via EVANESCENCE and haven’t made their way to GITS and SPITBOY…yet. I’ll take “Predator” any fukkn day, punk—the shit hits hard.
Reclamation by ANCIENT LIGHTS has been cycling the underground for a few months now, and if you haven’t imbibed yet, let this review be your ultimatum to get your ass in gear. ANCIENT LIGHTS play peace punk in the tradition of the MOB or ZOUNDS, while keeping things fresh by exploring new rhythms and sounds. Aggro social discourse is balanced with moments of melodic play, the production is dense, and the whole album has the vibe of an epic tome when consumed in full. Sporadically, there are riffs that remind me of the BUZZCOCKS, while intermittent tongue-in-cheek lyrics recall PROPAGANDHI circa How to Clean Everything. Frankly, there are far too many references cited in Reclamation to cover here, and you should just go check it out yourself.
Although they play old school, American-style hardcore punk, BLOOD TRACE is indeed from Athens, Greece. I confess I was previously unaware of the band, but they do quite well what they intend to do. I do enjoy the POISON IDEA vibe that some songs have here, but unfortunately I cannot say that I really dig this record. This production is fine and energetic, the songwriting does the job with stomping, mid-paced numbers answering beefy, fast ones, and the vocals are the strongest point, rough-hewn but dynamic and expressive. I am sure they can be very enjoyable live, but at the end of the day, it’s just not my style of hardcore punk. Sorry, guys.
This one was a little different than I expected. It sounds like DINOSAUR JR. or the REPLACEMENTS, but if they started five years earlier and were new wave bands. BRAT FARRAR is Sam Agostino, previously the frontperson for DIGGER AND THE PUSSY CATS, backed by a band featuring members of the BLOWERS and BROWN SPIRITS. Collectively, there is a lot of ground covered by all the musicians and there’s some cool songwriting going on, but I found the record to be mediocre at best. They are a good band, tight as hell, but none of the songs really stuck out to me aside from the first couple of tracks. The opener “Tower of Lies” has a killer driving rhythm and hook, and “More Money Meathead” is a true bonehead song, just dumb fun. I would have liked this more if it were an EP.
This two-piece from Oakland, CA comes out swinging like a three-piece (or even a four-or-more-piece). Rock’n’roll punk delivered with a smoldering attitude and swagger. However, under these driving tunes, the lyrics and sound have a dark and heavy quality like some of those AmRep bands from the ’90s. I’ve come to expect a level of intensity of live performances from the DCxPC label, so reviewing a studio LP had me a little cautious—the label has been great at capturing the inertia of a band’s live recordings, and I was wondering if they’d be able to meet that same standard. I can tell you that they completely nailed it, and if it weren’t for a couple studio tricks, I would have thought that this was live-to-tape and then to press. CUT-RATE DRUGGIST is a great starting-off point to build confidence for future DCxPC studio projects coming our way.
A solid hardcore band thrives on urgency and attitude, and this one delivers both without overcomplicating things. DOWNSIDE plays frantic hardcore punk, raw in nature and with a very growly voice, making the whole thing sound much more aggressive. In 2019, the L.A. band showed us Something’s Off, and in 2026 they are back with a new record—Cruelhead on Side A, plus the old one on Side B. Some songs are in English, some songs are in Spanish, but all of them have the same anger directed at the world. They channel hardcore effectively into short, punchy tracks that leave a lasting impact.
This Granadan trio casually swung in at the tail end of 2025 and dropped off one of the year’s best records. Maybe too casually. Unlike other recent bands who you could similarly describe as jangly or power pop-y, they haven’t been buried under mountains of praise. I’m not sure if that’s due to a lack of exposure, or the fact that they can’t obviously be lumped in with the current jangle/power pop revival. In any event, they are a band you should be paying attention to. ERROR DE PARALAJE isn’t simply reheating BIG STAR or GUIDED BY VOICES; they’re taking a rich post-punk stock and clarifying it into a bright, delicate pop consommé. This 12”, the band’s second release since forming in the late 2010s, is a record dripping with a nostalgia not conveyed via obvious signifiers like a band donning period costumes, but via melodies that genuinely ache for a past that promised something other than the bleak reality we inhabit. The music walks such a fine line between sweet and melancholic, often sounding something like a stripped-back LOOK BLUE GO PURPLE mixed with BLONDE REDHEAD’s “Hated Because of Great Qualities.” Or a track like “Mi Mundo Gris” has you imagine a world where the FEELIES were heavily inspired by ENNIO MORRICONE. It’s such a strange, beautiful record that I want more folks to love, so please check it out!
Oh, this is quite nice, no doubt about it. Has a modern MY BLOODY VALENTINE shoegaze-y vibe, but also incorporates a little bit of blackgaze—very atmospheric and vast, as if LITA FORD started singing with SWERVEDRIVER. This album is a master class in songwriting and production; you can really tell that a lot of care went into both facets of the recording process. Really fantastic work here, and well worth a couple dozen spins.
There is a long-standing tradition in punk stating that some good bands willingly shoot themselves in the foot by picking too odd a name as a moniker. Time will tell if GUIMAUVE belongs to that heroic category—GUIMAUVE meaning “marshmallow” in French. This Parisian hardcore unit does not, however, indulge in sweet, lush punk music. Paris is hardly known for its scarcely populated hardcore scene, so bands like GUIMAUVE are always a breath of fresh air (in a manner of speaking). On a lot of levels, the band is of its day, as their hardcore punk sound borrows a number of different influences and uses diverse paces and atmospheres to get their political lyrics (in French) across. GUIMAUVE deals in mid-paced, dark hardcore as much as they can deliver the faster, wilder moments you’d expect from the genre. As a result, this first album does not feel redundant or repetitive, and even if they use effects on both the guitar and the vocals, they do not overwhelm the listener or try to hide simplistic compositions. The songs are usually well-thought-out, and I really enjoy mid-paced numbers like “L’apogée du Spectacle” or “On Aurait Pu.” The vocals are raucous and direct, but remain intelligible in spite of the rapid delivery. Old school ’80s US hardcore bands clearly got invites, but as mentioned, GUIMAUVE sounds more like a contemporary take on the old school rather than worshipping the old school, and I can see them appealing to fans of NEGAZIONE, POISON IDEA, or BAD BREEDING alike. Give this one a chance.
