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Portland, Oregon’s AMY BETH AND THEE CREEPS put down some turned-up trash garage on their debut 7”. Led by drummer/vocalist Amy Beth, whose bull-horned vocals and lo-fi bashing create a classic budget rock sound, the group smashes through three originals along with a fun cover of the URINALS’ “I’m a Bug.” It’s a nostalgic racket recommended for fans of the DUMMIES, THEE HEADCOATS, and other 1990s noisemakers of the stripes-and-sunglasses ilk.
I’ve got to admit my confusion with this release and will do my best to make sense of what I’ve got here in front of me. Musically, the BLUE GODS YOUTH play heavy, anthemic, mid-tempo melodic hardcore with pirate punk “yo-ho-ho” kind of parts, all with a singer doing his best TRAGEDY impression—like, if TRAGEDY decided that after Vengeance, they wanted to have more traditionally catchy parts in their songs but still wanted to keep their heavy-sounding recording style. Artwork: An Ode to Blight has very minimalist art, just simple text surrounding a heart wearing a crown and angel wings, and crosses on the back panel and on the tape. Sure, one of the crosses is broken, but with song names like “The Trespasser,” “A Lifeless Prayer,” ”The Chains,” and “Faith and Fury,” I am left thinking that either this is a Christian band, or that the band is attempting to be very strongly tongue-in-cheek against Christianity, taking the piss out of many aspects. Unfortunately, with no liner notes, no lyrics, and every aspect of the band’s online persona having been wiped clean, I have absolutely no way of knowing which one of those things the band was attempting. Can’t give you any other information other than it seems like they’re from Manitoba, Canada.
The BLACK FLAG font on the cover had me dreading the first listen. I get a homage, but I see it used so often that it feels overplayed and unoriginal. It just feels kind of cheap, ya know? Are we so starved for fresh ideas that we must reuse and rehash the past? As much as I loathe the cover art, the music fuckin’ rips. It’s as angry, fast, and as pissed-off as the stuff our forebears were releasing 40-plus years ago, but it’s a different animal entirely. BRIEFBOMBE brings the riffs, and they do it with a fury. The songs are quick and meaty, packed with tight riffs and over-the-top drum fills. The vocals are intense and sung entirely in what I presume to be German. I can’t understand a word they are screaming, but the intensity in which it is delivered leaves no question that they mean every word. Cool stuff.
CONTROL FREAKS return with their fourth LP, TV Generation. Twelve garage punk salvos from San Francisco, all clocking in around two minutes each, which is perfect. Greg Lowery (SUPERCHARGER, RIP OFFS, INFECTIONS, ZODIAC KILLERS) trades vocals with Amy Munoz, and the back-and-forth between them gives the record a spark that made this stand out for me. Sammy G provides exactly the right drums for these songs, never showing off, just nailing it. The sound will land immediately for anyone familiar with Lowery’s earlier bands, though maybe a notch or two down in aggression. We all mellow eventually, but don’t mistake that for going soft: about half the tunes are diss tracks aimed at bosses, ghosters, liars, lazy slobs, and people who smell bad, so clearly nobody’s gone zen. It’s not reinventing anything, but it delivers the goods. Twelve songs, zero filler, job done. Recommended.
I really don’t know what to make of this. I really like it, but maybe not for the regular reasons. This is mid-tempo, RAMONES-ish garage/punk rock, maybe a little DIESEL QUEENS-ish too. I get the feeling that these fellas are lifelong best friends and this band maybe started more as a hangout session first and band second. I’d put money on the majority of their practices being just goofing off and reminiscing about stuff like “Remember when Turtle and Willie broke into that cop’s house and stole his Coors?” This album is a fun romp, catchy, with gobs of humor, and an overall truly “fuck you” attitude that can really only be achieved when you’ve become this level of grumpy.
Debut release from FANTASMA, a group started by Gustavo Venturelli and Lucas Cabu who immigrated from Brazil to New York City. Sung all in Portuguese, I can’t accurately describe anything more than their Bandcamp, which says the album “tells the story of a soul that aims to become real and establish a better future amidst dystopian times.” The post-punk instrumentation does an excellent job channeling this energy, with riffs that are dark, melodic, ceaseless, and—at times of extreme peril—ear-splitting. A few songs, like “Lugares Mais Altos,” take a slower, calmer approach with a rubbery bass, chord sweeps, and a feel that reaches for a memory (not knowing the lyrics, that’s where it takes me, anyhow). Having formed as a two-piece, the band is now filled out with Marc Grillo (STIGMATISM), Margaret Chardiet (PHARMAKON/DOLLHOUSE), and Craig. Had I heard this earlier, I think Quase would have easily placed in my 2025 year-end top ten. The album plays with mood, energy, and tempo, acting as a mirror to the modern scatterbrained sense of feeling everything at once equating to feeling nothing at all; finding some way to compartmentalize each piece. Fantastic debut.
Budget garage rock played loose with a little swagger like OBLIVIANS, NATURAL CHILD, or BLACK LIPS back when they were on Bomp! Records, a label that has both pioneered and preserved this genre and would suit this band nicely. The vocals will recall HASIL ADKINS’s style, not just in tone and measure but in an attitude which carries across the dozen tracks.
I’ll be honest, when I saw that the first thing on my review list was a Spongebob-themed powerviolence demo, I rolled my eyes and shrugged, thinking it was going to be one of those gimmicky bands. But seven minutes lay-tuhh, it was clear that my review had to be a written apology. GOOLAGOON, I sincerely apologize for underestimating the potential of the glorious genre that is Patrickviolence. It’s just that I wasn’t familiar with your game, and my biases got the best of me. All those pulverizing riffs, the extremely tight drumming, and abrasive vocals proved me wrong, though. Long live Patrickviolence.
Ranging from screechy garage punk to a gloomier post-punk feel, HIGHWAY GHOST bombards you with a constant dark and spooky atmosphere. I love how scratchy and raw every track is, with backup vocals that feel like a ghostly voice hovering just behind you, sending shivers up your spine. Get ready to enter a hypnotic and amped-up dream-like state, flowing from one track to another.
Wowzers! Side A could be from Can I Say by DAG NASTY, with its thoughtful lyrics delivered powerfully over the driving, melodic, upbeat tune. Side B comes in a bit slower, but still with the same impassioned vocals delivering a song about the past eating you alive and a future just out of reach. I’m bummed that there are only two songs. ILLUMINATI has certainly piqued my interest, and I will be checking out their other releases with the hopes of finding more stellar post-hardcore tunes.
When LOS IDIOTAS’ debut 45 came out in 2007, its raucous and electrified garage sound was about a decade late for its heyday. Now, they’ve doubled down on their winning concept of delayed gratification, waiting a lengthy eighteen years to follow it up with this ferocious full-length LP. These sunglasses-wearing Spaniards are out here ripping like the ’90s never ended, and here you have thirteen tunes with old school budget rock energy. At this rate, we may have to wait another 30 years for a follow-up, so let’s enjoy the devil-may-care, dive-bar spirit of this one thoroughly in the meantime, shall we?
Very BLINK 182/early ALKALINE TRIO-coded, with a bit of AMERICAN FOOTBALL tossed in here, too. This is probably a lot for me to ask, but I would love to hear what these songs sound like with a real drummer. The sequencer is a tad too perfect, and it does not pair well with the off-key vocals and loose guitar. I’m a big fan of the bedroom punk aesthetic, and I think MUSTY FLICK is sitting on some potentially great songs, but this squeaky-clean production does not do them any favors. Regardless, there’s a lot of authenticity and promise in these tracks. I just think they would really benefit from having a full band behind them.
Out of the foothills of the Italian Alps comes NORMATIV. After forming from the ashes of two separate acts (A/LPACA and SUBMEET), NORMATIV began creating raucous post-punk smeared with noise. Their three-track demo cassette features two originals and a BJÖRK cover. The two originals (“Papers Back” and “Positive Sanction”) are defiant, indignant, and blend layers of punk instrumentation with synthesized clangor while lyrically eviscerating global capitalist police states and describing the emotional fortitude required to survive under their oppression. The BJÖRK cover (“Declare Independence”) closes the cassette with an explosive display of the band’s sonic capabilities, taking what was a minimalist composition and flushing it out into a full-on punk pummeler.
A dark and gothic album that ranges from more classically post-punk to more melodic rock. I found myself losing focus throughout, though I’m not sure if that’s from the songs feeling a bit long or because of how dark and gloomy they could be. Some of the songs didn’t quite land with me, as a couple sounded quite similar to one another, but I still enjoyed the album as a whole. You should listen to this if you like general post-punk and want a solid gloomy vibe.
Chicago’s PET PLAY isn’t here to fuck around, coming out swinging with six slices of furious, noisy, seething punk. Fast and to the point, they display the chops and vitality of DETESTATION with a modernized approach. It’s easy to see that these folks are fueled by outrage but they don’t take themselves too seriously, as evidenced by the last song “Bowser’s Theme,” with an instantly recognizable riff that inexplicably translates perfectly. Crazy solid demo here—mean, with great transitions and slick but understated guitar work. Lots of character, verve, and a seriously killer vocal delivery. More, please.
While taking notes during my listen to PSYCHIC DEATH’s Trilogy, a collection of their three releases so far, I wrote down the words “rabid,” “offbeat,” and “chaotic” to describe the first few songs. By the time I reached the final two bonus tracks, those three adjectives still felt like the most appropriate ways to describe them. PSYCHIC DEATH plays eclectic hardcore punk with shrieked vocals that have been compared to ’90s West Coast bands like SWING KIDS. Their songwriting is anything but straightforward; each track twists and turns, speeds up and slows down, and at times feels too busy for its own good. That said, across three tapes, their sound has stayed impressively consistent, making this a cohesive if not exhausting collection.
Virginia Beach’s answer to ANNIHILATION TIME, with a melodic twist. This power trio has been plugging away for quite some time. Yes, they’re rowdy and quite possibly intoxicated, but they don’t fit into the party punk box entirely. The vocals being sung in Tagalog is one of the elements that sets RHDP apart. Another is their willingness to experiment with rhythms and instruments that don’t often turn up on a punk record (is that a jaw harp I hear?). The balance of expression and full-throttled savagery is what makes this album so interesting. Just when it feels like they’ve ventured out to the ledge, they snap back onto a locked groove that hits ya dead between the eyes. Their sound on this album is absolutely massive, a perfect fit for the lean, muscular tunes. A layered, dense collection of powerful rock’n’roll songs that draw me in further with every listen.
Detroit stoner psych that pulls from the grand SABBATH-ian tradition of slow, distorted blues figures and hammer-on riffs. It’s honestly pretty boring, to the point that I zoned out and forgot it was playing. Recommended if you like inoffensive, unremarkable hard rock playing in the background of your black mass or LSD party or whatever.
You like late-era MINUTEMEN? You’re gonna like this a whole bunch, then. This album sounds like if D. Boon fronted MOLLY HATCHET. Jazzy drums, soaring guitars, and twangy vocals with tongues firmly placed in cheeks. We’re treated to a little bit of banjo action as well, which is a huge A+ in my book. This is the thinking-man’s punk, folks. Outside the box, unconventional, and catchy as hell. I adore this record. Possibly one of the best slabs I’ve heard in a very long time. Highly recommended.
It takes less than five minutes for the VEE BEES to make their statement. They’re here to rock, and they are here to party. They’ve been saying it since the turn of the century, and they haven’t changed their tune yet…ROSE TATTOO, beer, JED WHITEY, riffs, AC/DC, not giving a fuck. Grizzled, thick, meaty Aussie punk.
The snotty vocals at the forefront of this Boston garage punk act, with satisfyingly sneering backup, immediately caught my ear. I’ve long lamented the end of MOMMY LONG LEGS, and I’m not saying this sounds like that band one-to-one, but it’s a similar sort of stupid on purpose, “who gives a fuck” garage abandon that fills a well I’ll fill my bucket from every day of the week. The hooks are simple, the production is dry and unflashy in just the right way. There’s a sense of humor, but it’s not cloying, especially on the title track which rollicks along with the emblematic garage beat while celebrating (and lampooning) being a broke-ass dysfunctional punk in love—I mean, but also you should probably dump him. “Why Can’t You Love Me” is another bruised-heart rager with doo wop backing vocals that utterly shreds. Rules.
At first, I thought this was a showcase of Christian punk. Turns out, it’s a compilation of live acts from Florida Underground Fest 5, and features a hearty mix of pop punk, ska, and metal. It’s not rough enough around the edges for my personal tastes, and there is too much silly onstage banter for me. It reminds me of watching a small local fest where you catch two or three bands that really have their shit together, and the other ones are bands you’ll probably never hear again. Even the “metal” songs are silly and soft, lacking any real edge or intensity. FLAGMAN sounds like a pop punk version of SYSTEM OF A DOWN (interpret that how you will), and CHILLED MONKEY BRAINS do a cover of the “The Trooper” by IRON MAIDEN that is as dumb as their band name. The GILLIAN CARTER tune kind of rips if you’re into that heavy screamo noise thing. I am not, but it’s the cream of the crop here. I’m still not convinced this isn’t a Christian punk comp.
I can’t quite place these guys in any specific genre and I love that. They truly have created something entirely their own, drawing on more pop or indie-style vocals with the occasional synth, keyboard, and distorted guitar. The standout track for me is “I’m Afraid They’re All Talking About Me,” as it felt so unique and powerful from multiple vocalists repeating the same line (sans instruments) that quickly dropped into an utter explosion of guitar and noise. Overall, a really fun band worth listening to.
Originally recorded in 1977, this has all the elements of early Bomp! Records, NIKKI AND THE CORVETTES, MNM’S, HOLLY AND THE ITALIANS, and perfectly encapsulates the early days of L.A’.s underground music scene. “Legend (Come On Up to Me)” was previously released on the Saturday Night Pogo LP on Rhino Records in 1978, but has been remastered to bring out the full attitude of the tune. Like all of the best power pop and pop punk from this time, “Let Me Show You Love” kills from the opening riff and continues straight through to the last ringing note. Simple and melodic guitar solos and instant earworm lyrics make this a very great and tight single. I’ve read that there was a 2019 cassette of live and recorded material floating around—I think it’s time that cassette gets a proper vinyl release, please.
Blackened death punk from Brazil that is difficult to wrangle. Técnicas de Morte is a genre-blurring affair that pulls the listener in a multitude of directions, often within the same song. From a one-two pogo beat one moment, to a blastbeat the next, CLAN DOS MORTOS CICATRIZ is erratic and at times disjointed. Across the fifteen tracks, you’ll find elements of crust, hardcore, black metal, and even rock’n’roll. The vocals are the most consistent component, with a pervasive echo that’s like Elmer’s glue and doesn’t hold the parts together sufficiently. The lack of cohesion is a shame, because there are some searing moments with consequential riffs. Tasty morsels, but the whiplash is too disorienting to provide sustenance.
Violent, no-frills hardcore punk that explodes in short, vicious bursts. DOGSBLOOD strips everything down to pure impact: pounding drums, serrated riffs, and vocals that sound like they’re being ripped straight out of the throat. Both tracks feel urgent and confrontational, rooted in frustration and street-level anger. This is hardcore punk meant to hit fast, leave damage, and disappear before you catch your breath.
Hardcore punk violento y sin adornos que estalla en ráfagas cortas y feroces. DOGSBLOOD reducen todo al impacto puro: baterías demoledoras, riffs serrados y voces que parecen arrancadas de la garganta. Ambos temas suenan urgentes y confrontativos, anclados en la frustración y la bronca callejera.
Remastered live set from this cult St. Louis band that released three 7” records and played four shows during their original ’80s run. Emerging around the same time as bands like MELVINS and NO TREND, DRUNKS WITH GUNS took misanthropic, slow-motion, My War B-side reverse hardcore to new depths of sludge, and do it again on this record. Thick, monolithic riffs envelop the audience with stacked, crackling distortion, while pounding drums, played on this set by Weasel Water of the FLYING LUTTENBACHERS, propel the band like a workhorse. Vocalist and founding member Michael Doskocil hollers with his full chest, sounding like John Brannon on downers. It is awe-inspiring and fucking heavy. “Zombie” might be the bummer punk national anthem: atop the bludgeoning riffs, a chorus of howls engages in anti-harmonic vocalizations that last way longer than is comfortable. “Tomorrow We Kill” keeps Glenn Danzig awake at night in his black satin pajamas with jealousy nightmares of not writing it first. “Drug Problem” gets close to a catchy chord change/vocal hook before receding back into the sludge, like the sneaky wink of a rock song stepping out a window. If you like your punk syrupy with contempt, your hardcore on the verge of entropic implosion, check this out and wish you were there live.
Melbourne’s EDDY CURRENT SUPPRESSION RING return with Shapes and Forms, their first release since 2019. For a band not exactly known for prolific output since forming in 2003, three new tracks feel like a genuine event. The production maintains their lo-fi garage rock foundation but sounds slightly more fleshed out than past releases, with Brendan Suppression’s characteristically flat vocal delivery cutting through the mix just fine. The tunes are all mid-tempo head-nodders, and I think there’s a melodic quality running through them that continues the evolution that we saw on All in Good Time—still tight and jangly, but not on the edge of a nervous breakdown. There’s also a cover of CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN’s “Oh No!” that fits surprisingly well. Released on black vinyl with sleeve variants in red, green, blue, black, and yellow for the collectors among you.
Not at all what I thought a band called FUCKFUCKFUCK would sound like. Surf punk mixed with a bit of pub rock and golden oldies radio, as if the CRAMPS were commissioned to rewrite the American Graffiti soundtrack. Poppy as hell with a fine line of fuzzy grit sitting right below the surface. I love the use of the dual vocalists. One sounds like a belligerent Lux Interior, while the more melodic of the two could pass as NICK LOWE in his prime. The combination in tandem makes for a powerful dynamic that builds to the climax of each song. Very high-energy and authentic; these folks can write some catchy tunes! Now who’s gonna tell me where I can find a pair of these short shorts adorning the album cover?
This is the GOONS’ first studio release in nearly twenty years. I gotta talk about the cover of this lil’ spinner, where we see an astronaut’s boot on the surface of Mars stepping in gum amongst cigarette butts and bottle caps. Does this mean there are punks on Mars, or just litterbugs? The tunes are punk’n’roll ragers in the ZEKE, CANDY SNATCHERS, and NASHVILLE PUSSY vein. In the six minutes it takes you to get through these four songs, two things are going to happen. First, you’ll want to flip the record over and hear them again. Second, you’ll want to flip the record over and hear them again. And on and on, until you get to Mars to start your mission of finding punk Martians or litterbugs or both. Solid release. There are only 500 of these (on Mars red vinyl, no less) so grab this while you can to keep you company on your journey.
Self-described “authentic ’60s garage punk” from the UK. Twelve fuzzy songs, riddled with bass leads and Farfisa organ stabs, but where’s the punk? While the band manages to capture the saccharine sounds of the late ’60s, they fail to capture any ferocity or attitude. Simply put, they excel at crafting and performing psychedelic garage rock that doesn’t actually rock.
Québécois grinders HUMAN GREED just released this 24-track opus of crusty crossover entitled Absolute(ly) Greed(y), and it’s really fucking good. HUMAN GREED displays their reverence for old school grind while also completely reinvigorating the genre by introducing contemporary sounds and compositions. Throughout the album, I’m reminded of NAPALM DEATH, early FUCK THE FACTS, and AGATHOCLES. However, HUMAN GREED keeps the energy high by maintaining a blistering pace and a dual vocal approach that makes the lyric delivery enter warp speed.
Absolutely loved this. It’s everything I think hardcore should be, encapsulated into one snotty compilation. Lightning-fast, barely coherent at times; it feels like if it stopped at any given point, it’d collapse, so barely is it being held together. It’s wild, it’s sneery, and it’s played with no fixed idea behind sticking two fingers up at The Man and telling him to shove it up his arse while he’s at it. This deserves so much more than to be a footnote in a hardcore history. It’s this Critic’s Choice, that’s for certain.
LIPSTICK KILLERS’ Tour De Force: Live in Adelaide 1979 captures sixteen tracks from a 1979 radio session, documenting a band that never seemed to have achieved the recognition of Australian punk contemporaries like the SAINTS or RADIO BIRDMAN but still helped lay groundwork for what became a ridiculously vital scene. The set includes live versions of “Hindu Gods of Love” and “Shakedown U.S.A.,” plus a cover of the 13TH FLOOR ELEVATORS’ “I’ve Got Levitation.” Fans note this recording appeared on the CD version of 2021’s Strange Flash double LP, but got cut from the vinyl due to space constraints. The quality is brutally raw and the vocals sound like absolute hell at times, but that’s part of the charm when you’re documenting a band from this era. This might be for completists and historians, not casual listeners, but if you’re invested in the deeper corners of Australia’s late ’70s punk history and its ongoing legacy, this messy snapshot is worth the trouble.
Second band this month that I mistook for another, as I thought it was a new release from the Californian MUNDO MUERTO (that would have been unlikely since they haven’t recorded anything since 2012, but you never know). On the other hand, this is the name of a brilliant song from RIP, so you are bound to have a few bands going for the moniker. This one is from Saltillo, Mexico, not far from Monterrey. I understand it is a new act, and this is a first demo tape that is rather promising. MUNDO MUERTO goes for the direct D-beat punk style with angry words in Spanish. There are some solid Scandicore riffs here, so they have clearly done their homework. I am reminded of thoroughly enjoyable ’00s Barcelona bands like HORRÖR, TOTÄLICKERS, or DISUNDEAD. I like the raw primitive production, the sincerity and unpretentiousness of the music, and the slightly unhinged vocals (MAQUINA MUERTA, anyone?). I do think the band can improve though, and I’ll be watching for their next steps.
If you like rabid, no-holds-barred, raw D-beat noisecore punk, then you need to listen to the NOT out of Montreal. Scathing lyrical criticisms squall over blown distortion with intermittent breaks for wild but captivating displays of feedback, squelch, and rhythm shifts. If you like ZYANOSE, ENZYME, and PHYSIQUE, this is for you. Personally, I want to hear a whole lot more from the NOT.
Derby’s POUND LAND punches you straight in the face with their noisy and chaotic breed of industrial-flavored no wave. Built on top of a heavy, mid-tempo foundation of distorted bass and hypnotic drums, guitars and electronics take the role of adding an intense wall of all kinds of noises and textures. Even though it’s a sound that thrives on repetition, Mugged never gets boring at any point, thanks to the psychotic lyrics delivered with delirious perfection and the saxophone that is constantly going through an intense episode of glossolalia. Plus, I’m a big fan of the warm and welcoming smile of that fella on the cover.
We’re talking HICKOIDS and ZED with some rockabilly undertones riding shotgun while REZILLOS and CELIBATE RIFLES take the wheel. Just when you think you’re listening to a melodic punk band, RAGGED REVUE drops some meandering desert cowpunk into the mix (trust me when I say that they’ve listened to Tejas more than a few times), and you’re reminded that these dudes are from Slovenia and their sound is a sum of presumed influences. Totally unexpected and wholly enjoyable release.
Here we are, the first tape I have been sent to review in 2026, and it is an absolute doozy! Debut from this project out of Melbourne, Australia, and it is spot-on. No idea who is in this band or what other bands they have connections to, as I am only seeing them referred to as being a Melbourne supergroup. Six sons of driving punk with some truly shredding rock’n’roll guitar licks. Incredibly catchy and riddled with hooks without a single instant sounding like the band is dipping their toes into anything in the pop punk realm. It has me thinking a lot about the first record by the VIBRATORS, who were undeniably a punk band, but I can’t listen to Pure Mania without thinking what great power pop songs the album is filled with. This is great, start to finish. Consider the gauntlet thrown down with the first release I’ve tackled this year.
Capital-H hardcore from Omaha—SETBACK puts forth an impressive debut full of catchy riffs and bouncy rhythms. They don’t color outside of the lines much, but the songs are well-written, the breakdowns are nasty, and there’s an almost upbeat vibe that appeals to me more than this style of hardcore typically does. Definitely worth checking out.
TIPPING POINTS’ debut Anthropocene is a collection of five short and sweet, simple yet effective egg-punk jams with no distorted guitars in sight. After all, seasick guitar riffs and cute vocals drenched in reverb over boomy drum machine beats are more than enough to get any point across—and they clearly know it. Anthropocene is captivating in its simplicity and really enjoyable in its entirety. Eat your heart out, Jack White.
Keeping that crazy beat alive, this neon pink single showcases two classic selections from the party-rockin’ WAU Y LOS ARRRGHS!!!—a band whose chosen moniker comes with its own punctuation and enthusiasm. It’s 1960s-flavored Spanish garage punk for the whole family to enjoy. Sounds like spiked punch, smashed maracas, and sexy go-go girls dancing with wild abandon.
This tape is an unrelenting scorcher. Production value? Vertibly none to speak of. Distilled to the rawest form, YELLOWCAKE follows up their monster 2024 EP with another batch of devastating blasts. Nothing here not to like, just utter intensity via psychotic dual guitar leads and anguished shouting into the void of despair. You can draw a line directly back to 1980-era DISCHARGE, particularly in the double-tracked vocal delivery and primitive bass lines. It’s compelling to hear songs that are influenced by DISCHARGE in a way not solely relegated to the drum beat.
Some of the headlines may have moved on, but Gaza remains under siege from an occupier genocidal state backed by US policy and tax payers’ dollars. And yet, mutual aid remains a vital resource for oppressed people the world over. Some say punk shouldn’t be political, and to that I say two things. One: fuck you, idiot. Two: opposing genocide is not a political stance so much as foundational to humanity. All that said, this is an excellent comp in a series of comps benefiting Gaza Soup Kitchen. It’s worth your time, your money, and your attention, from the glitched hard drive D-beat of ENZYME to the fish-hook-catchy, always fierce JUDY & THE JERKS from Hattiesburg. The outpouring of support, resistance, and great goddamn punk music might not save the world, but it’s a start.
ALREADY DEAD, to my ears, has traveled some distance since their Something Like War CD, and has constructed a solid and more powerful sound. At first, these five tunes might be blown off as commonplace meat-and-potatoes punk tunes, but they are not that at all. The songs on I Think It’s Time to Leave are centered thematically around everyday struggles, like fucking hating work, all presented in an anthemic and robust aural attack. This style of punk usually leans toward a lot of beer drinking until blackout and nihilism, but ALREADY DEAD put thought into what they are trying to say. Parts of this certainly fall into the Rad Girlfriend Records camp of bands like RAGING NATHANS and the DOPAMINES. However, ALREADY DEAD can stand just as easily on their own. This is a very refreshing second physical release.
Fun debut outing from these Basque punks, albeit with more than a faint whiff off the egg about it. With these stilted, lurching guitar lines and the staccato vocals, it does knock on the door of wacky bollocks beyond which yer PRISON AFFAIRs and yer SNOOPERs reside but never quite fully walks through, and for that I’m glad. There is a pop sensibility at the heart of this though, with solid bass lines and actual proper choruses making this a very promising start.
Recorded at their second CBGB’s appearance, this set captures the band during a period of evolution in the wake of the departure of bassist Merle Allin, as they were becoming the heavy and experimental three-piece unit that they remain today. The earliest session of the four live CHEATER SLICKS albums recently released by Brooklyn’s esteemed Almost Ready Records, the sound quality on Live at CBGB’s 1992 is notably strong and clear, having been remastered from the original board tape for a dynamic presentation. It sounds great loud, preserving the wild atmosphere and nuances in the performance adequately as hits like “Destination Lonely” and “Possession” howl from the speakers. Crank it up, crack a cold one, and bask in its sweaty, loaded energy in the comfort of your living room.
I usually try not to give short reviews, but I don’t really know how else to say this: if you loved BLACK FLAG’s Damaged, then you will almost certainly like this. You could have told me that We Told You So was a collection of B-sides from the Damaged session and I would almost certainly believe you. Give this a spin and tell me I’m wrong. See! I told you so!
Top-notch hardcore from Swedish punks DREAM WARRIORS, who now stake the claim to my current favorite band name (shout out Freddy Krueger). Fast and furious riffs, D-beat for days, and perfectly placed melodic leads add up to a massively enjoyable listen. The write-up mentions Japanese, Swedish, and American hardcore elements, and while there are definitely components of each of those here, DREAM WARRIORS do a fantastic job of not sounding like they’re aping any one specific style. This is just rock’n’roll-infused hardcore punk, which in my estimation, is the best kind there is.
DR. SURE’S UNUSUAL PRACTICE keeps things tight and twitchy on this 7″, folding nervous new wave instincts into dance punk that’s built to move without losing its edge. “No Pigs” is solid, but the B-side steals it for me. On “Desksitter,” the plucking synths come in right alongside the guitar and rhythm section, all of it locking together from the jump before the song starts mutating about a minute in, with odd, twitchy noises creeping into the mix. By the time it hits the final stretch, everything spirals outward into some gloriously dumb sci-fi squeals. The recording sounds great, and both tracks carry more urgency than much of the band’s longer releases, making a strong case that this sharper, more focused version of DR. SURE’S UNUSUAL PRACTICE is where they slap hardest.
