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Just two tracks at three minutes of raw furious hardcore from Charlottetown, PEI. “Left Behind” has a head-bobbing D-beat pulse, but I prefer the busy riffing and frantic phrasing on “Enough.” Cymbals clatter high in the mix, which is both a good and bad thing. Fans of such fidelity will say it improves the noise factor, but I’d like more guitar. These Canucks aren’t showing anything new but it’s still promising for a promo.
This Kentucky gang knocks it outta the park on the first pitch. ARCHAEAS’ sound centers on skull-streamlining—full forward-motion guitar riffs, rhythms jabbing outta the garage but careening too wildly to be saddled with that tag. Feels freer, younger, druggier and more genuine than much of what ya hear as of late. A cool and true two-prong hit here—A-side’s the good-time, B’s the head-crack—jammed with enough spirit to make the shittiest over-it puker smile through the chunks. Cannot wait to hear more.
ALICE BAG was one of the initial architects of LA punk and has had a hell of a life since, incorporating education and activism as well as music. Her 2011 autobiog Violence Girl is a crucial read in this respect, but if your current go-to reference point for ALICE is her stint as frontwoman of the BAGS, that’s still a more than serviceable foundation for getting max enjoyment out of Sister Dynamite, her third album under this name. It’s decidedly punkier and higher tempo than its predecessor, 2018’s pop- and ska-flavoured Blueprint, although her backing band and production crew remains pretty much the same. The thread back to that early Dangerhouse Records sound is fully, pleasingly audible, despite the (relatively) slick musicianship and new wave sheen, and there are Spanish-language songs (“Subele”) among paeans to queerness and denunciations of privilege.
Recent demo cream pressed to vinyl for posterity. Claims of WEIRDOS inspiration seem warranted here, as this is a fairly hi-fi take on that classic rumble-and-burst sound. Vox alternate between maniac-froth and nonsensical annoyance, but they somehow always find a way to fit. Five tunes total and worth a look-see.
I’m not too familiar with the countrified one-man rockabilly stomp of this Canadian crooner, but I see that he’s collaborated with a who’s who of modern garage rock heavyweights. Much less unhinged and more restrained than personal favorites of this genre like the mighty HASIL ADKINS or even contemporaries such as LIGHTNING BEAT MAN, Mr. Bill (lol) adheres to a more traditional and stiff variance of Sun Records worship. It’s quite good, though, with scratchy, old timey production effects that could have this being sandwiched between CHET ATKINS and DUANE EDDY without making a staunch purist cry fowl. This reminds me of some of the stuff ex-skinheads were getting up to in the ’90s and being that is when he got his start, I might not be far off in my comparison. What are you waiting for? Grab your gal of any or non-gender variance, jump in your jalopy and head to the hootenanny.
This 7″ is one of those releases that exists just to signal to fans that the band is still doing that thing they liked back when. It might pull in a few new people here and there, but it’s mostly a nostalgia call for older fans. There’s no experimentation or anything really new here in this love song single. That said, it is very well done and shows they’ve put in their hours doing their thing. “Meet Me On The Moon” is the pop-punk, BOUNCING SOULS sound that BROADWAY CALLS has always had, just slightly fresher. The B-side is an acoustic version of “Call It Off,” the first song off the band’s first album. The vocalist seemed unsure how to make the whoa-oh-ohs of the original work all slowed down and acoustic, but he tries…
Appropriately primitive modern garage rock. The title track also has some pop stylings and distorted vocals. Side B starts with a harder edged sound and more screaming on “Enuff Is Enuff” and ends with an instrumental tribute to Dick Dale that is very low on surfiness. CAVEMAN AND BAM BAM play basic rock stuff that is probably enhanced live by the fun costumes.
Wild, whirlwind punk via Chicago that collapses time and space between the Dangerhouse-led sound of Los Angeles circa 1977-79 and the modern Midwestern weirdo underground of DEVO/SUBURBAN LAWNS devotees that had Northwest Indiana fixed at its epicenter—there’s some personnel overlap with CCTV here, tellingly. Bass and drums lock into hyperkinetic pogo-worthy rhythms topped with urgent, slashing guitar, while frontperson Anna pushes into the instrumental tussle with a series of shouts, yelps, and KLEENEX-esque non-verbal vocalizations (check that “woo ooh ooh” refrain in “Mid Fit”) that are a total joy. Blistering and barely contained; I’ve never said that a record “slaps” before, but this one truly does.
Two tracks of whirlwind Swedish kång from DISSEKERAD. The pedigree here is formidable (I’ll just mention AVSKUM and TOTALITÄR, because that should be more than enough), and the goods are worthy. A classic mid-paced cruiser starts off their side, and then they open it up with “Mardömmen Startar,” a pure fist-banging rager that leaves me reaching for 2015’s Mörkret Tilltar LP for more action. Germany’s EARTH CRUST DISPLACEMENT takes a little of the nuance out of the mix, opting instead for a relentless high-speed D-beat crust assault. Noisier guitars, and they don’t even take the time to warm up your ears with an intro—they just fucking unload. I like the combination of the two bands—different but equally effective approaches to a tried-and-true genre. The split EP is a much-maligned format (and perhaps rightly so), but this one is worth its weight in wax. I expected nothing less from either band, and they both delivered.
The tape starts with a strange prologue that might be from a movie, than immediately turns into blow-out raging hardcore, instantly erasing all previous guesses of the intro. The recording is over-driven noisey (that sort of “let’s get something really quick, since we should record, doesn’t matter if this is the lo-fiest equipment” distorted) which pairs well with how ENFERMO is super urgent, bile-splitting frustrated. This atmosphere suggests that this demo had to be made no matter what. They remind me a bit of ORDEN MUNDIAL, but with less USHC influences, as ENFERMO does not include groovy bridge parts, instead they are busy with constantly fucking shit up. Their song “Inocencia Perdida Por Malas Experiencias” has a looong howl that is ridiculous, both funny and brave, the self-confident approach of the songwriting later repeatedly demonstrated. It’s a great demo and I wish to hear more from the band. The Chilean scene is on fire!
This is that RAMONES-based drunk punk “bad boy” thing that feels dated and unnecessary except when the SPITS do it. I’ll even give a pass to PERSONAL AND THE PIZZAS, because at least their gimmick includes pizza. It’s the musical equivalent to a comedian still trying to do Andrew Dice Clay bits in the year 2020. It’s like meeting that guy at a party that says “women are things!” and when called on it tries to explain, “I’m just being offensive, cuz that’s punk!” This Florida trio seems to think they’re doing a STOOGES impersonation, but it somehow comes off simultaneously as try-hard and lazy. “Prissy Missy” especially misses the mark, just kind of feeling like a sweaty old man hitting on every girl he sees with heavy panting and “come on baby, let’s step out and talk” creepiness. I wouldn’t want to be alone with this band, because I cannot stand for another lecture on how “PC” everyone’s gotten and how music’s “supposed to be fun!”
An album of catchy, modern-style new wave post-punk featuring Annie Sparrows of the SOVIETTES and Jim Blaha of the BLIND SHAKE. The guitars and drums chatter with the bass pulses. The music they make is jumpy and jittery then it mellows out for a song before getting all excitable again. The female and male collaborative vocals sound great together and remind of a more polished LOST SOUNDS. I like it.
We’re early into this thing, but I’m having mixed feelings. It’s mid-tempo and catchy and it definitely has some things in common with bands that I quite enjoy (SUZY Y LOS QUATTRO, DIRTY CUPCAKES, EPOXIES), but it is also leaving me feeling like it’s not quite complete. If you’re a fan of female-fronted alternative pop music (maybe even power pop) this could be for you. From Finland, it also reminds me a tad of PLASTIC TONES, another female-fronted power pop band. Listening through a third time, I do feel like it’s growing on me.
Wow. The first vinyl offering from Toronto’s LAST AGONY drops like a thundercloud, three off-the-rails crash bombs on one side and a metal crust epic on the flip. A complete wall of sound, howling guitars and oppressive vocals masked by natural distortion delivered by intensity and not an EQ knob. This is what happens when D-beat is pushed to its absolute limit, and the result is incredible. Highest recommendation for fans of that great span between EXTREME NOISE TERROR and KREIGSHÖG.
This is straightforward, up-tempo, super driving punk rock that’s just a little noisy and pretty spastic but still totally catchy. They’ve got that WIPERS or HOT SNAKES down-stroke rock thing going on but with screamed vocals that are pushed real hard. Outside of the couple spacy ambient guitar track, every song on here is a rager. It’s not necessarily hardcore, but it’s not not hardcore. If you’re confused, check it out for yourself because this shit smokes.
It gives me no pleasure whatsoever to write a bad review, especially when it comes to a band whose members are primarily female. I definitely did not like this and I’m even tempted to say it’s bad. The main vocalist sings off key in almost every song and sounds like a mix of Courtney Love and Corin Tucker. The secondary vocalist is much better, but lacks timing and conviction. The worst part of this band is that they’re boring. Just very bland delivery of the lyrics and the accompanying music is never very exciting. Of the nine tracks on this release, my least favorite is “Goth Girls,” and unfortunately it’s the longest song, clocking in at just over four minutes. What I dislike the most is the lyrics. For most of the verses they’re trying to squeeze too many syllables into each line. The chorus allows for some breathing room, and I even enjoy the backup vocals here, but overall the song sucks and it’s pretty cringeworthy. I was very underwhelmed by the entire release. The most interesting thing about it is that it was recorded, produced, and mixed by Tommy Stinson, but even that couldn’t save it for me.
I will get straight to it: NEUTRALS nail it here! The centerpiece tunes are all crisp guitar shocks, thematically serving as a “State of the Bay” address (though equally applicable for any urban locale), detailing the frustrations of paying impossible rents while being utterly surrounded by brutal, punishing assholes. “N.O. 1982” shows more mod-punk influence than any tune I’ve heard from them thus far (sayin’ somethin’), even as it rallies against retro-centric ideals. Also…an EXPLOITED cover? Bold move, but totally victorious! NEUTRALS cram more thought and passion into this short-form set than most peers could hope for in an album. Proceeds from sales donated to both Border Angels and The Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education and Legal Services, which quite obviously rules as well. Very highly recommended.
Minimalist, lo-fi rock’n’roll punk with a snotty streak and a refreshingly healthy dose of self-awareness. This release really hammers home the point that it’s not fancy equipment or production acrobatics that make a punk record good. There are some real standout tracks on here, and no shortage of infectious rock’n’roll riffs, no-bullshit vocals and screaming guitar leads. Mutate With Me adds something new and weird and even a little exciting to the sounds of the early Rip Off Records catalog. Definitely worth checking out for punks who like to do a degenerated version of the twist or those willing to give it a try.
A three-song EP from this new Portland band with ex-members of SOME VELVET SIDEWALK, OSWALD FIVE O, and BILLY JACK AND THE HIPPY TEMPTATIONS. This is a dive bar cruncher. Gritty, reminiscent of US punk circa 1984. Hearing STOOGES, SICK PLEASURE, and DWARVES in the mix. Thumbs up.
A key band in the German Neue Deutsche Welle movement of the late ’70s and early ’80s, the all-female Düsseldorf quartet ÖSTRO 430 had punk ambitions that were somewhat blunted by their more bouncy, day-glo pop tendencies—no guitar, lots of keyboard, bursts of saxophone, hooks all over the place. Keine Krise Kann Mich Schocken is a complete anthology of the group’s studio recordings, collecting their two LPs from 1981 and 1983 (both long out-of-print and only ever available as German pressings) with a handful of previously unreleased takes. Much like ROMEO VOID or the French band EDITH NYLON, ÖSTRO 430 paired their punky new wave with lyrical themes that were far more subversive than the upbeat danceability of the songs might easily let on, detailing concerns (in German) focused primarily on sex, feminism, and gender roles in a modern world. The material from the first album Durch Dick and Dünn is generally more sparse and ramshackle, including the group’s exemplar jam “Sexueller Notstand” which puts down ineffective lovers over a foundation of anxious drumming, budget-sounding keyboards, a perfectly minimalist bouncing bass line, and just a touch of wailing X-RAY SPEX-esque sax. By the time they followed up with their second LP Weiber Wie Wir, the keys had caught up to the synth-pop zeitgeist of the ’80s and gotten more slick and prominent, but there’s generally enough moments of raw tension like the dark, driving “Normal” to save things from fading into total new wave blandness. Definitely of interest to students of the international femme-punk underground!
RED GAZE is from Austria. They point out their lyrical abstractness in dialectic utopias, in political privacy and reference CRISIS and INSTITUTE. The rhythm section is charging ahead with the bass holding the whole thing down. These three songs make me think of DIÄT if they had played faster. RED GAZE live is high energy!
Cold, insistent anti-cop, anti-fascist punk from Portland. RIOT COP’s catchy, almost pop songs are the main selling point here (aside from the message). Seventeen tracks filled with hooks and a constant galloping pace, these are dark anthems for a new age. Guitars have an early Posh Boy vibe, but sound like they’re played through a 20-watt Gorilla amp (that’s a compliment) and the vocals are like (early) NAKED AGGRESSION’s repetitive call to action. A timely release, if nothing else.
Debut eight-track release from this Austin, TX trio. Stripped-down, melodic punk that sounds like it came out a good 40 years ago. MAD PARADE, REALLY RED, that kind of vibe. Which, for some reason, sounds rather refreshing these days.
Fuck me, this is really fucking good. Nothing Can Kill The Grimace may even be the third release from this Omaha trio. According to Bandcamp they have a couple others that aren’t this one, and have been doing their thang for half a decade now. And said thang is fantastic. They do a wonderful job of channeling some of the best of late-’80s/early-’90s Yank punk. Think SCREECHING WEASEL, FIFTEEN, and OPERATION IVY. Gruff and melodic, and bloody soulful it is, too. Cover versions of NOFX and the CIRCLE JERKS are another fair pointer. With gusto!
This is pretty rad. A not-at-all-modern-anymore noisyasfuck take on the garagecore genre permiates this band’s tainted soul. With the amount of screech and distortogration dripping from this wax, I want to immediately cry “Japan!” typing out random blurts of TEENGENERATE, Bag of Hammers-era GUITAR WOLF and even CONFUSE and GAI. This would sorely miss pinning this band to the mat in any kind of style or substance though. From their photos, the thin moustached hipster look of fourteen years ago has not been lost, but seeing that these gents are from Russia, I am left humbled by their mighty Euroness and ten-years-behindness. Total Rejects begins and ends with a spooky synth soundtrack to a Russian monologue not of my easy deciphering but surely having clues on how to control the president. Sandwiched in between are wonderfully angst-ridden psalms easy for one to slam spit or dance to, often precluded by a Ginnlike squeal of feedback. The REATARDS might be an easy go-to comparison but this mind is whisked back in time to days and lost evenings listening to the likes of the CARBONAS, BEAT BEAT BEAT, GAYE BLADES and the late BOBBY UBANGI if only for their spirit, attitude and facial hair stylings. Love it. Buy it!
Holy shit, I just stepped foot into a smoky, European, strobe-light-ridden ’80s new wave club. It’s 2:00 AM and shit is just starting to pop off. This is clearly one of those word-of-mouth, “ask a punk” spots that operates by its own rules and closes whenever people are done dancing and drinking. Maybe I’ve just arrived after reapplying my SIOUXSIE AND THE BANSHEES level amount of eye makeup from sweating it out at another club. Or maybe I don’t start my night until after the witching hour. TOTENWALD (German for “Death Forest”) is the band owning the stage, and they are a time machine. One of their songs is even called “1984,” just a year before I was born but I feel like I’m right there with them 36 years ago banging our heads against the Berlin Wall. I think a lot of people are going to want to compare this band to X-RAY SPEX because of the female vocals and saxophone(!), but I think that’s unfair. They’re dark, gothy, distorted, synthy, angry, dancey, and radical. Also, just go look at pictures of them right now. Every one (including live clips!) genuinely looks like it’s from the ’80s, but this record actually came out in 2020. This four-piece is from Berlin and the past and the current timeline. Even the art packaging on the record is super fucking new wave punk. It rules. I definitely recommend entering this club. Just make sure you brought enough clove cigarettes and eyeliner with you.
This is the debut album from Olympia trio UK GOLD. The sound is sparse, clipped, and seems fully intentional. Slightly overdriven guitar works in lockstep with angular, anti-funk drums and bass, all instruments clearly defined and contributing to the argument put forth by the vocals: righteous indignation, complaint, disappointment? There’s a strident confidence to the songs not dissimilar to later-period DC acts such as BLACK EYES, or maybe HOT SNAKES, or even the muscular noise-rock of SHELLAC; at a stretch, HELMET in 4/4 time. Nothing here is disguised by feigned amateurism or low fidelity production—everything is exposed in the glare of their post-punk that rocks.
Scorched Earth is VILE SPIRIT’s debut LP led up by a demo. I knew and enjoyed the tape, due to its similarities to UNITED MUTATION. The LP, too, contains weird, even horror-esque excipients, haunted sore-throat vocals on music so detailed it becomes an unifying entity, that behaves in various tempers throughout the record. The edge of capital hardcore is deadened by shifting the hardness of the performers on the circumstanstances they perform against/about. Which makes the music tortured, but backs up the dense sound while avoiding any ridicule. The music is heavy because life is tough, instead of the members acting jock-ish. While the vocals are laid in mid-tempo, the instruments do not slack on their layers: The drums wonder into restrained blast-beat territories; the bass is distorted into a pulp filling up all empty spaces, binding the sound as glue; the guitars avoid both metal riffage and simplified three-chord hardcore notes; rather they function as a tidal wave, both loose and large. VILE SPIRIT is playful with pace, even if the artwork suggests some kind of still-in-the-basement, emphasis-on-core ’90s metallic hardcore. Scorched Earth is not an endless loop of chugga chugga, rather they imperceptibly mix with speed, blending different moods on a scale of hyper and almost zero tempo and remain confident no matter how shaky or swampy their ground is. Lately I have lost track of UK hardcore bands, no longer know whether this is still the new or now the neo wave of British bands, but due to the different references and execution, VILE SPIRIT differs the listening experiences I recall from their peers. If you tend to feel as the creature on their cover, you just as likely to enjoy the record. It’s a solid one.
Experimental dirges, shit-fi noise and general sonic fuckery abound on this tape. Starting with a dose of formidable monotony from BONELIST, Th’ Gunk Stunk only gets weirder. Nine tracks in total, mostly enough outside the typical fray that it takes serious processing to even decide where to file them in your brain. One track is BRAINBOMBS through a Wheelchair Full Of Old Men filter, then before you know it you’re listening to no-fi no-wave DIY synth damage. As a sonic journey, this is exactly what you want out of a compilation tape.
Ohio’s punk pedigree simply cannot be fucked with, yet Cincinnati never gets nearly as much lauding as most of the state’s other major burgs. HoZac (with help from an esteemed CHROME CRANKS member) aims to change all that with this collection, assembling a wide swath of pretty killer punk to get our scholarly heads a-scratchin’. Lotsa seldom-heard stuff here—a even split between stray single Killed By Death style excavating and wholly unreleased nuggz. BEEF’s “Nosedive,” a rescued live recording from ’78, finds the obnoxo-teen singer mimicking some air-show sounds…What’s not to fuckin’ love? There are some recognizable names as well: the CUSTOMS, the ED DAVIS BAND and even TEDDY AND THE FRAT GIRLS, whose inclusion here strikes me as a tad dubious, but if a technicality allows the now-generation to hear “Clubnite” again, I’m all for it! The great and hyper-detailed liners really convey a whole lotta punk love for this city and scene as well. As if all this were not enough, there is a download component that serves up an additional fifteen tunes—more punk Cin-sanity than anyone would ever need! Top to bottom, an ace collection and document of under-reported punk racket.
Two early versions of songs that were renamed when they appeared on 2014’s Selected Recordings album. ACID BABY JESUS are from Athens, Greece. They incorporate some of their hometown’s traditional musical styles into their psychedelic garage rock. The result is droning, repetitive and slow with an unique atmospheric feel. I can picture lying on a rock by the ocean as the clouds move slowly overhead while listening to these songs. Groovy.
Reminder Records is the new reissue label from one of the minds previously behind the similarly-focused Sing Sing, and among its first archival rescues is the lone single from the singularly-named CHERYL (a.k.a. Cheryl Powling), a London-based pin-up model who originally released these two trashy bubblegum-punk/power-pop rave-ups in 1981. “Killer Kiss” channels the ’60s-via-’80s bad girl sass of occupants of the Bomp! universe like NIKKI AND THE CORVETTES and JOSIE COTTON, while the more frantic flip “It’s Me” is all punky new wave jitters, arguably eclipsing the A-side with some extra-punchy snare standing in for handclaps and CHERYL’s loopy vocals that are almost closer to Su Tissue than Ronnie Spector. Absolutely giddy, disposable pop fun, perfectly suited to sneaking a flask into the roller rink and making out with some leather-jacketed troublemaker in the parking lot.
If I were to create the Cold War-era industrial subgenre, then New York’s CYANIDE TOOTH would be the flagship act. Dark, disorienting sounds treated with newsreel voice-overs, aural assemblages that predate the world of laptop-push-a-button “noise” in both approach and execution. And ultimately, it’s the execution here that sets Midnight Climax Operation apart. The climax (wordplay intended) of the tape is the churning repetition of the absolutely filthy burner “Techno Animus,” and the entire B side is taken up by a 25-minute disorienting collection of sounds and samples that leaves you exhausted as it whirrs to a halt. I wrote years ago that CYANIDE TOOTH would become a force when their vision was fully realized, and that time has come.
More seminal avant-Euro sounds unearthed by the folks at ZZK, Germany’s DIDAKTISCHE EINHEIT lands somewhere between early ABWÄRTS and a damaged no wave/Krautrock experiment. Furiously cold and abrasive sounds, deceptive in their sheer subtlety, all recorded live in Holland and originally self-released in 1982. DIDAKTISCHE EINHEIT was short lived, but their output was formidable (at least six cassettes in 1982, before their lone LP the following year), and their ability to manipulate the act of experimentation should not be ignored. Highly recommended reissue.
This 12″ features one side with five generic, gruff-vocalled pop-punk songs and a second side with a nice-looking screen print. The B-side might be the better one. This sounds like when a band tries to copy a band that tried to copy JAWBREAKER. So sure, easy way to go is to say it sounds like SMALL BROWN BIKE. It’s melodic, it’s kind of bouncy, but it lacks the solid hooks that this kind of music demands.
These cheeky German chappies never actually recorded a Peel session, bless their hearts. But who’s to say that if John Peel was still alive, that he wouldn’t bring them into the studio? Six songs of scrappy, garage-inflected power pop with German vocals. Though clearly indebted to the more tuneful bands of punk’s heyday, EASTIE RO!S have much more in common with more recent Australian practitioners of the style, falling somewhere between the instant classic riffs of ROYAL HEADACHE and the casual, sun-baked EDDY CURRENT SUPPRESSION RING approach. Great stuff, I have to say. Peel would approve, I think.
I don’t know about you lot, but I, for one, am sick to bastard death of this trend of anaemic pop punk dressed in a cheapo relco button-down, creases from the packet still visible, being passed off as skinhead music just because the lyrics mention “the pub.” Thankfully, there are bands like FUERZA BRUTA kicking the teeth out of establishment with their unique blend of back to basics hardcore-tinged (proper) Oi. Blunt-force riffs, furious vocals, all underwritten by a rhythm section as tight as properly-laced derby boot. Vital stuff.
So this is a solo album by Muzz Delgado (MEERCAZ)—although it doesn’t sound like what little MEERCAZ I’ve heard. This almost sounds like a CALVIN JOHNSON release. It definitely has a kitsch ’70s feel; a vocals-over-a-musical-backdrop versus a band feel. I can’t say I was into this. Not really my thing musically but if you want something off-beat, lo-fi, and retro give this a listen.
This San Antonio band is one big, sloppy party. Like all good Texas groups such as BANG GANG, they are hard to pin down in any square hole category. Musically ranging from hardcore to prog to metal to “Wooly Bully”?! Yes, it’s that kind of party. Personally I prefer the weirder numbers like “Backpage (Saved My Life)” but there’s something here for the whole dysfunctional family in your life. These are big men with big musical ideas and while it might not totally be what I’m into, a taco is a taco nonetheless.
I believe this French trio has been around for a while. Indeed, looking through my CDs, I discovered a disc of theirs from several years ago. Who knew!? Anyways, sonically, they marry melodic hardcore with that HOT WATER MUSIC gruff-yet-anthemic, effortless driving rhythm. And they do it good. Real good. Even better, lyrically, they are spot on, and given that my French is getting rusty (to say the least), they have a handy paragraph (in English) about each set of lyrics—examining the themes of exploitation, alienation, capitalism, ageing, class war, and revolt! Plus a handy (and excellent) reading (and podcast) list—albeit in French. Fortunately, being from Paris and all, they actually sing in French. And, judging from the aforementioned earlier effort, which I dug out and (re)listened to in preparation of reviewing this one, musically, they’re going from strength to strength, while not losing any of the articulate lyrical rage over time. Like a good French cheese, or wine, if that’s your bag, they just get better and better over time.
At first encounter, all visible signs point toward totally embarrassing juvenile pizza thrash. While the latter is accurate, it would be a mistake to write this off as novelty considering such righteous, nerdy, critical and unapologetically feminist and queer perspectives. “Patriarchy Is a Pyramid Scheme,” “Pizza Crust as Fuck Existence,” “Pussy Grabs Back” and “Make America Smoke Razors Again” are just a few examples. “Make America learn some common sense / Make America electrocute Mike Pence / Make America rethink immigration and tear down that fucking fence.” I’m sorry but I’m just…like…fuck yes. I laughed out loud several times reading through the lyrics—er, the “Captain’s Log.” Also included is a map of Pizza Monster Island, which is arguably cooler than a punk photo collage or some chains and skulls and spiked bats. It’s satirical political punk at it’s best, not taking themselves too seriously. Musically mostly hardcore/thrash, with a few interesting devious punk tracks thrown in for variety. I certainly didn’t expect this to be the case but I recommend putting aside whatever hyped punk trash the algorithm is telling you that you need and pick this up instead. It would be a truly radical act.
One of Poland’s longest-running DIY hardcore bands, INKWIZYCJA has been active since the late 1980s and have only gotten heavier over time. The sound is decidedly commercial—sometimes resembling SYSTEM OF A DOWN (or HELMET?) more than anything from the North American “punk” scene/s, but the approach and delivery are nonetheless rooted in early Polish punk, and that influence is evident on tracks like “Pogrom” that closes the first side. Flip it over though, and “Wilk XXX” is a crushing modern hardcore number with a swarm of guitars that demands attention. Even though there are elements that I don’t necessarily dig, I appreciate the ability to veer in and out of easily definable genres, and the last song on the record could easily make me a commercial heavy/alt-rock apologist. Let there be no doubt that XXX is good—it’s very good—you just have to decide if your mind is open wide enough to let it all in.
While this band hails from the Rose City, it feels like their hearts are in a mid-’80s New Jersey wood-paneled basement lounge with a TV cranking out horror classics and a mom screaming “keep that racket down” in a thick Jerseyesque accent. Think SAMHAIN, MOURNING NOISE, KRYST THE CONQUEROR, and the BEAST with some early OFFSPRING thrown in when they were still on the spookier side of things. It’s not super punk, but spooky and catchy nonetheless, and they have an adorable YouTube video for the superior opening track as well. Crawl out of your basement or cozy condo and pick up a copy.
Six more blasts from Swedish grind mangel legends MASSGRAV—20+ years in the game and no signs of slowing down. There’s something special about the low-end Swedish DM guitar attacking the breakdowns like a buzzsaw, and when they tease your ears with a straight D-beat for the start of “Årets Rövhal 2018” and “Gasen i Botten” before exploding into machine gun blasts…just: ugh. On the flip, two-man recording project PROTESTSTORM features LIVET SOM INSATS and KRIGSHOT/NASUM members. Should come as no surprise when I say that the five songs on their side are a brutally stripped-down dose of unhinged Scandicrust. RAPED TEENAGERS cover to wrap up their portion of the assault—all of these dudes are just really good at this shit.
This is a Southern California band who was formerly known as DODGE DART that formed in 1995. I don’t know the specifics of how close the current lineup is from the previous band, but there seems to be a lot of crossover, especially as far as songwriters go. Honestly there are many songs on this release that I just don’t understand what their message is. The lyrics are so vague that they don’t quite tell a full story, though there are some simpler ones that poke fun at American bros, the guy who is president, senators, and drug use. There are songs that covertly reference what seems to be heroin withdrawal in “Bobby Pin,” desires for casual hook ups in “Action,” and violence spurred by jealousy in “Gonna Fuck You Up.” While I don’t love all the words in every song, I definitely do love how absolutely catchy each one is. Their drummer is a powerhouse and keeps a tight, snappy beat. They trade off vocal duties between four different members! My favorite singer being the soulful Audrey Sjobeck. This is a record written by folks who have at least 25 years put into making music and it shows.
I am always a fan of the 12” 45 RPM EP, especially when the sound is big. MM & THE PECULIARS’ big sound comes in the form of singer Maegan Mills. Her vocals are emotive, powerful and overly dramatic. The music punctuates the singing perfectly. It is grunge-y and math-rock-y and flows and rolls along keeping the words afloat. It’s an impressive combination.
High energy pop-punk that is a little more along the lines of Epitaph or No Idea Records than punks who lived through it the first time might be comfortable with. But that’s kind of the point. Everyone in the band is under 21. It makes sense for them to be writing super-fast, super-melodic, super-angry and idealistic songs, and they are kicking ass at doing that. The melodic riffs and gruff vocal style remind me of BAD RELIGION and JAWBREAKER. There’s also a bouncy vibe that could have as much to do with Oi! influences as it could be taking a cue from early GREEN DAY and RANCID.
This is a two-song split with PRETTY MATTY on first. Their track is gritty and their singer is really going for it. You can hear their voice ready to give out but it never does. It’s not exact, but the opening riff on the PRETTY MATTY track really reminds me of the distorted sounds of JESUS AND MARY CHAIN’s “The Living End.” I love this track. It’s raspy, poppy, and quick. They get straight to the point. And the backup vocals are perfect. Now on to side two! SAD BAXTER is quite different than the first band’s track. It’s slower, and has a brighter melody, plus rich, breathy singing that reminds me of the singer of BULLY but with far less rasp. There’s a set of lyrics towards the end of the song that goes as follows: “I blame myself for thinkin’ and feelin’ / Blame myself for hating you / Blame myself for sleepin’ too much / Blame myself like I’m not enough / Blame myself for thinkin’ crazy / I blame myself for all things lately,” and boy is that awfully close to my quarantine experience. So I’m going to stop blaming myself for not knowing this band and instead go listen to all of their songs now. That goes for you too PRETTY MATTY. Both of y’all are fantastic.
Wow! PRIMITIVE TEETH appears to be staffed by a gaggle of Chicago DIY scene vets, and they clearly know what they’re up to. Out of the gate, the first song sets the tone with propulsive bass and off-kilter drums driving their anthemic, atmospheric post-punk. The band sits somewhere at the intersection of SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES, SLANT 6, and SAVAGES. There are only four songs on this 7” but it still manages to feel epic; destined for bigger things, methinks.
The RABIES released two singles in 1982. This is their follow up 38 years later. The vocals have the same nonchalant, monotone style. The music is a bit more slick than their early three-chord punk way, but it still maintains that ’80s-college-rock-meets-post-punk style. Not bad for a band that hasn’t played for decades. Plus, I found it completely cute that they include a CD version of the two songs with the record. I haven’t seen that in a while.
