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Based in Düsseldorf, MARONE hits us with fourteen snappy tracks on their debut LP. This record is a bleak and uncomplicated take on a classic ’90s melodic hardcore approach. With lyrics sung in German, It’s something like an emo cousin to fellow Deutschländers WIZO who had records out on Fat Wreck back in the day, with a similarly polished and upbeat sound but a darker and more organic mood (if you’re into that sort of thing).
When I was doing college radio at KALX way back in the day, the MORLOCKS were a favorite of Barry St. Vitus. He was heavy into the garage stuff, I thought it was okay. This record is, I believe, from the second iteration of the band and was originally released in 2008. I don’t always like garage rock, but when I do, I like it a little more raw and gritty. I find this one a little too slick and polished for my liking. It’s not terrible, just not my thing exactly. That said, the album title is one of the best things ever.
NAMELESS CREATIONS out of Warsaw, Poland recently emerged from their crypt after a four-year slumber to release the Plague Party album, and I couldn’t be happier. If you like CHRISTIAN DEATH, SHADOW PROJECT, or SEX GANG CHILDREN, then you’ll love this album. Macabre, gloomy, but rockin’ as hell, NAMELESS CREATIONS open this album with the title track “Plague Party” (there’s also a really well-produced video for the song), and continue the goth rock party for another nine songs that meander in a sort of stream-of-consciousness style, but also kick in where it’s needed. This is one of those albums that you’ll drop the needle on and soon find yourself wanting to listen to on repeat. Light some candles, put on your fancy black clothing, and dance along under the moonlight for best results.
Fast, catchy, and moderately distorted stuff here. Some tracks could have been even shorter. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I just want a good riff in small portions. Punk songs can peter out pretty quickly, and I’d respectfully suggest many bands could imply some real editorial restraint and let the riffs speak for themselves. Please pop punks, I urge you: don’t tie yourself in knots repeating a chorus just to play it bass-only or insert the dreaded bridge-to-nowhere. PETTY GRIEVANCES churn out some real earworms, and if they trim some of the slack, it’ll be that much better.
This is the fourth release from Springfield, Illinois straightedge hardcore band PREVENTION, and it’s pretty much as generic as it gets. There’s some heavy riffs and drops here that will please the bruised meatheads on the dancefloor, but this slab likely won’t interest any of those outside that specific demographic. If you like your hardcore hard, this may be of some interest to you, but it just bored me.
Despite moving to different corners of the US and Europe, members of RED DONS—originally formed in Portland, Oregon in 2006—have continued to put out music throughout the decades. Their name comes from a group of British Intelligence officers working out of Cambridge University circa WWI who were discovered to be Soviet spies, the context of which sets the stage for their long view of political engagement and questioning. As for the music, I find a sound rooted in rock’n’roll, emulating/paying homage to dark-leaning bands like the DAMNED or T.S.O.L., with plenty of space for guitar solos, keys, and some mild crooning and wailing. This four-song EP marks their first release since 2017’s Genocide, and they are still sharp and passionate as ever. Moody, poignant, enlivened music.
Hardcore punk band SARUSHIBAI from Gunma Prefecture has released their new album on CD with Malaysia’s Black Konflik Records. From what I gathered, this is so-called “Showa-style Japanese punk,” which finds inspiration from bands such as the STALIN, ABURADAKO, and DEFORMED CHILDREN, but with a wider range of influences, mainly US-based labels like SST and Alternative Tentacles. A good pick for fans of intensity and melody-drenched hardcore.
Holy shit! This woke me up. Featuring Hiroshi from the legendary REGISTATORS plus a regular all-star lineup, this brings back some blackout memories of the ’90s without being some spit-on-the-lens throwback shit. A perfect combo of glass-shard-picked guitar clang over the best “fuck you,” snot-faced vox I’ve heard in some time. SWANKYS, STITCHES, and GEROS for jerks who need those pesky comparisons. All songs are killers. Piss on your dog.
Latest LP by NYC/Toronto’s STIGMATISM. Ignorance in Power is Victim in Pain-style straight-ahead, fast hardcore punk with absolutely no bullshit. Straight b2b bangers—recording is on the drier side with no shitty metal parts, no echo on the vocals, and none of the modern pro-core sound. Reminiscent of early ’80s NYHC or Boston HC, yet without any of the reactionary patriotic boomer hardcore dad vibes, reminding the listener to recognize what hardcore was all about. A non-stop, tight energetic outburst of fast, ferocious hardcore punk intensity.
Here’s another instant classic to add to the list of contenders for album of the year: STINGRAY’s Fortress Britain, a caustic, abrasive, and scorched-as-fuck album that sounds absolutely hellish, with brutal vocals and big riffs to match. Comprised of prominent members of the UK punk/hardcore scene, STINGRAY sounds seriously pissed, and presents a takedown of imperialism and British rule, illustrating the decaying landscape of modern life. Sonically, it’s a smoldering cauldron of fury influenced by the likes of EXTREME NOISE TERROR, CRUCIFIX, and NEUROOT, and from its first note, Fortress Britain rips through your speakers and grabs you by the throat. “Burning Swine,” a stomping kick in the teeth, features a metallic breakdown that is as infectious as it is heavy. Title track “Fortress Britain Crumbles” is a revved up D-beat fever dream featuring an excellent bass lead that is massive, dwarfed only by the even bigger lyrics: “Walls of London blown to bedlam / Under the boot of a million desperate.” You can hear the venom in every word, delivered expertly by the demonic narration of Tin Savage. Closer “Inner City” begins with another bass lead, echoing drums, and a build-up that’ll give you goosebumps. Fortress Britain may have influences from the past, but this shit is timeless. If modern life is hell, STINGRAY couldn’t have provided a better soundtrack.
Tough-as-nails hardcore punk courtesy of some stalwarts of the storied Minneapolis scene. VACANT cranks out fourteen tracks of four-chord nastiness that has a slightly metallic, somewhat melodic bent that conjures up the spirit of later-era POISON IDEA. Befitting of their pedigree, VACANT embodies a 2023 take on the kind of ’90s political punk peddled by Profane Existence. Anyone familiar with ASSRASH will instantly recognize Pignose’s distinct vocals. Musically, they build off the foundation of the members other previous efforts such as SCORNED and HELLSPAWN. VACANT isn’t as raw or unhinged as the aforementioned bands, but this makes for a more coherent if less energetic delivery. Given how long these dudes have been at it, I’d say they wear their traumas well indeed.
More fantastic music out of Australia. Poppy post-punk with a little bit of slowcore thrown in. Chill and laid back. The singer sounds a bit like a less energetic Fred Schenider, which might seem like a critique, but it works very well for VINTAGE CROP’s styling. Great use of the synthesizer during “Springtime,” and especially the horns (or what I think are horns) at the end. Fits right into the pocket and gives the track a floral accent. “Mercenary” reminds me a lot of ’90s indie groups like SUPERCHUNK. Very catchy with upbeat guitars that don’t overlap the vocals. Great composition for both tracks. Lots going on, but it doesn’t sound messy or overthought. I initially wondered why this wasn’t released during the spring, only to remember it’s currently spring in Australia. The Earth is crazy, huh!
French noise-rock-adjacent punk that resembles MCLUSKY and labelmates USA NAILS. While this record is a fine, serviceable slab of dissonant guitar rock with precise playing, it lacks the personalities of the aforementioned bands. The songs, mostly running between three and four minutes, run together without making much of an impression. This is the local band that plays for a full hour before the touring headliner. I know if I wound up at their show, I would step outside and work on my Duolingo (got a pretty good streak going), or maybe call my mom. Check it out if you are really dialed into this genre of clever/sarcastic lyrics shouted over mid-tempo rock, but this LP didn’t do it for me.
Records like this are a funny thing to me—I’m not sure what these bands have that brings them together. COLERA is a Brazilian hardcore band that has been around since the late ’70s (I thought it was the early ’80s, but I was wrong). They get seven songs, some new, some not. RAZOR KIDS are from Scotland, I believe they’ve been around for a bit. They get four cuts. Lastly, the ZIPS are a relatively new Portuguese band. They get three tracks. If you know COLERA, you’ll know what to expect. Classic South American hardcore. Fairly catchy, straightforward. It’s what you’d expect from them. I reviewed the RAZOR KIDS late last year on another weird split EP. They deliver four solid cuts of COCK SPARRER-inspired Oi!. And the ZIPS play super-melodic, mid-tempo power pop, and they do it very nicely. Still a head-scratcher as to how these three ended up on the same record, but I’ll take it.
The Canadian jawbreaker is back! Ten tracks of pure ANTI-CIMEX worship from their first recording session that was never released. All tracks were recorded with the original line-up in 2013 with Vassil Mester on drums (RIP). The tracks are pummeling and sure to crack your skull! ABSOLUT is an absolute warmachine!
From Washington, DC, the AIN’T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH plays melodic hardcore in a ’90s vein, with a singer who sounds vaguely like the guy from APOCALYPSE HOBOKEN. If this group’s name doesn’t immediately tip you off to their unabashed goofballery, the Pootie Tang quote in the first song will. Unfortunately, this album suffers from a weak mixing job in which the vocals seem to be competing with the music. Otherwise, it’s some funny, punchy skater-punk for you knuckleheads.
Mondays and Tuesdays doesn’t always go full speed ahead—it’s right on the edge of pop punk, emo, and indie rock. I mean, its melodies are engaging and energizing like pop punk, but the arrangements have a pensive, withdrawn feel that might limit the stagediving during shows. More than once, I heard the steady thump-thump-snap of drums that emo and melodic HC utilize so well. Of course, there are some big give-it-your-all chrouses. The band also takes time to slow down and croon enough to keep a toe in the emo camp. Sometimes they’ll throw a few complimentary notes onto the end of a chord to add to the striking, melancholy sound.
Latest release from France’s BARRAGE. Non-stop crushing crustcore in the vein of EXTREME NOISE TERROR or DISRUPT, although BARRAGE sticks to hardcore punk roots rather than the crustier realm of the aforementioned bands. Some death and thrash metal phrases can be heard in parts of the album, yet it successfully avoids the modern-sounding extreme metal approach. The D-beat tag does get thrown around, but D-beat masters out there might not call it quite that. Still raging, full-front ferocity of in-your-face sonic bombardment.
Considering the dark aura of these formidable D-beats, BRITNEY FEARS was an interesting choice of name for this great Greek hardcore group. These ten sharp songs are manic and macabre, with echoed vocals ringing out over melodic raw riffs and hard, machine-like drums. It’s a tough sound with a haunting feel and an overall unique presence, perfect for scantily-clad dancing with knives in your hands on Instagram.
I was not familiar with CHRONIC DISEASE, but they were a Belgian band active from 1986–1992 who showed up on quite a few gig posters of the day, sharing the stage with the likes of NAUSEA and SPERMBIRDS. The band plays a tight blend of D-beat and near-crossover hardcore with some tasty riffs and intricate, snare-heavy drum fills. The guitar tone sounds like ANTI-CIMEX, with a mix of chorus and distortion, and the bass is frequently dirty as well. When they kick into a song like “Tomorrow Looks Grim,” or standout “Sacrilege,” it’s really good. Precise D-beat mayhem with infinite tech fills and some thrash chugging that is fist-in-the-air great. Where CHRONIC DISEASE loses me is the vocals—they just don’t match the speed and power of the music. The vocalist’s voice is perfect, raspy and haggard, but I can only imagine him reading the lyrics in a booth while the band rages together in a different room. The energy just does not match. I looked up some live footage to see if it was any better, and it was—ripping and passionate on all fronts. If you’re a history punk and love digging into geographically diverse scenes and time periods, give it a listen. This particular recording didn’t quite hit the mark for me.
Really nice mid-tempo sludgy hardcore with arty tendencies. They’re out of Kansas City, MO. I know little about them and couldn’t find out much either. They’re fucked as hell, like some S.H.I.T., NO TREND, and SCAVENGER OF DEATH cocktail all full of syrup and venom. Their opening title track and “Lip Service” are pretty nice, but it’s all really sick in the literal meaning. Die.
Sludgy, slow bass starts off this debut from Minneapolis’s CLOSETALKER; drums give a roundhouse lead-in to eight bars of droning guitars—and I thought I had some heavy, doom metal-flavored punk coming my way! Instead, what followed was a melancholic guitar lead and some vocals like you’d find on a SWINGIN’ UTTERS record, or think of other mid-to-late ’90s Epitaph/Fat Wreck Chords stuff. The band’s tight, the mix lets you hear everyone distinctly, and the songs are well-structured. It’s kind of push-around, friends-in-the-living-room music, offering a soundbite from Vin Diesel’s character in Fast Five (a quick search revealed) about people important to your life on the closing track “Honestly Livin’.” While this allusion was a little distracting, at least it came at the end, letting the other songs speak for themselves, like the catchy “J Masochist”—given their guitar leads, I assume these dudes are fans? One can never be sure. CLOSETALKER may not be breaking any boundaries, but Destination Isolation makes for a solid debut.
This full-length LP from Saint-Étienne’s DELETÄR is teeth-ripping hardcore punk in the Swedish style of hardcore à la TOTALITÄR to NO SECURITY, with an epicness in the still yet-to-be-burning-spirits of Chelsea’s guitar leads and a CAMERA SILENS-like triumphant sing-along vocal style at times. Within the tracks of controlled chaos, very well-crafted catchy riffs flow throughout the songs in a fierce, non-stop bombardment attack. Plummeting full-drive drums attack with maniacal yet still catchy vocals that will make you raise the fist and sing along. While referencing the aforementioned bands, the sound is original—they’ve got all the right influences from good bands and still made this sound into their own. My favorite release of the year.
I imagine it’s probably pretty high up on every powerviolence band’s bucketlist to do a split with Tokyo PV legends FUCK ON THE BEACH—Italy’s DOUBLE ME can now cross that one off of said list. DOUBLE ME has them beat in the song ratio (six vs. FUCK ON THE BEACH’s two), but both sides of this slab rip pretty hard. One of FUCK ON THE BEACH’s tunes is quite a raging take on CHAOS UK’s “No Security”—songs both rip hard, but DOUBLE ME’s bass-heavy sound is this reviewer’s favorite. It’s certainly worth the time investment, that time being just over four minutes. Depending on how stupid you are (which, if you like powerviolence, is probably quite a bit), it might even take you longer to read this review than listen to the record.
Finnish thrashers FORCED HUMILITY rip it up on Tri-City Werewolves ’23, citing influence from classic ’80s NYHC outfits like OUTBURST and SHEER TERROR. The results sound similar to the UK’s ANTAGONIZM, with harsh vocals, breakneck drums, metal riffing, and searing guitar leads. As a big FORESEEN fan, I’m always excited to hear these guys’ side projects, and FORCED HUMILITY doesn’t disappoint. Check out “Opportunist” and “Ultimate Concern.”
D-beat à la Milano. This is classic bass-and-drums crushing punk. Great EP with a strong track list that will give your veins the fix it needs without taking you for an unexpected turn. Must we give comparative band names? You know this story well. The drummer steals the show and is a standout throughout. Don’t believe me? Start with “Teoria en Practica” and work your way back. Lots of merch from these capitalist-hating punkers…buy a shirt from these dudes.
I am happy to say that the newest release from Pittsburgh’s HEAVY DISCIPLINE is yet another winner. These guys have been putting out raging SSD-style hardcore for quite some time now, and Your Scapegoat comes three years after the release of their self-titled LP (which was one of my favorites that year). While it’s not quite as fast as that one, it still rages incredibly hard and packs a real mean punch. Another glowing recommendation from me.
Genre-bending madness at its finest—ISMATIC GURU is here to paint your skull with the trippiest colors of a poised rainbow, and plunge your mind down the most elusive of rabbit’s holes. With this third installment of an ongoing collaboration between John Toohill (a.k.a. SCIENCE MAN) and Bran Schlia (CLUMP), we are treated to a circus of absurdist surreality where synthesizers warble, writhe, and do battle with undulating guitars and skronking bass. The cadence of the vocals calls to mind the misleadingly casual delivery of Henry Wood, with accelerated paranoia coloring the timbre. The musicianship is impressive, but never flashy or overly indulgent. Post-new wave crashes headlong into post-punk…from the wreckage emerges ISMATIC GURU. The results are dense, disturbing, and ecstatically deranged. Killer stuff. For the freaks, by the freaks.
Raw, crusty hardcore three-piece out of Chicago. They’re another one of those trios that does a great job filling in the gaps, sounding absolutely massive with just a drummer, guitarist, and vocalist. Reminds me of all the early grind bands who came to fruition without a bass player but still sounded heavy as hell, much like a more rustic PIG DESTROYER. Vocals are blood-curdling like a banshee in the night. Absolutely intense and unwavering. The lo-fi production pairs perfectly here. I love how the drums come off in the mix—tucked a tad into the back, but when they come alive they’re pummeling. Top-notch stuff here.
MISERY is the perfect example of a band most punks know by name, but aren’t necessarily familiar with their full discography. Few bands can claim to have the endurance of MISERY. Active since 1987 (I read they recently practiced after some years of silence), MISERY has survived several decades of punk trends, some of which haven’t aged half as well as Minneapolis’s loudest, through their unshakable loyalty to the old school crust genre. Initially highly influenced by the original crust sound that rose in Britain in the mid/late ’80s (especially AXEGRINDER, AMEBIX, and HELLBASTARD), MISERY went on to create their own sound and epitomize not only what old school crust could and should sound like, but also what dirty vibe and visceral tension it had to convey. With their raw and heavy chugging, apocalyptic, polyphonic stench-crust, MISERY became the ultimate crust band. They outcrust the competition. Where all the bands appeared to split up and give up, not to mention take showers, they remained standing (depending on the amount of special brew, let’s be fair), loyal, faithful to their first love and evolving, growing with it, like a healthy couple. Sure, just like in a relationship, some moments were better than others, but MISERY and crust never went their separate ways. They are crust lifers. Many contemporary crust bands owe a lot more to MISERY than they think, and I am under the impression that they don’t always get the credit they deserve in terms of songwriting, as they showed that you could pen heavy metallic crust songs and be inventive and even (gasp) catchy. And you won’t find a better bass sound in an old school crust band. Early Years gather material released between 1989 and 1996 on the first three EPs of the band (minus the live one), along with the lesser-known two split EPs with ASSRASH and HELLSPAWN. Absolutely essential, not just if you are into the genre, but if you are interested in punk history as a whole. In an epoch when the average lifespan of a new band is 24 months, there aren’t many die-hard bands like MISERY anymore. Agipunk took care of making this flawless, wonderful soundtrack for the end of the world available to the punters, and it is an ideal entry to the band’s world. Don’t be a poser. Get this.
Following up their 2019 album Magnet, NEW BERLIN’s third full-length continues their exploration of post-indie garage pop. The album’s sonic terrain opens with a nod to raw minimalism, echoing the dissonant spirit of WIRE, then moves quickly into flirtation with the sunnier side of jangle-pop shoegaze. There’s a tip of the hat to honky-tonk country on the third and fourth tracks, before settling into a cleaned up LOU REED-esque groove that prevails for the remaining songs. The trajectory is a bit disorienting, though not incoherent or whiplash-inducing. While not revolutionary, State of the Union makes for great background music with pleasing aesthetics and digestible harmonies. If you want to be challenged by an album, this will not fit the bill, but for a laid-back palette cleanser, it just might.
At least the band picked a good name, which is always a nice first impression. POISON TRIBE comes from Denver, and from what I can tell, they are a relatively new band, as Allie Sessions is their second demo tape. Let me warn you that the sound is definitely raw and primal on this recording, which certainly doesn’t bother me (quite the contrary). Let’s just say that it genuinely sounds like a demo, not those fancy demos that get reissued on vinyl—no, the real no-arsing-around kind, warts and all. I have no idea if the people in the band have been active for long in our glorious punk scene (a polite way to inquire about how ancient they are), but I detect a sensible early ’00s political punk feel on this demo, from back when George W. Bush was thought to be the biggest villain the US of A would ever have. I enjoy this tape, more than I thought I would. As mentioned, it conveys the vibe that was so prevalent in North American ’00s crusty political hardcore, not dissimilar to California bands like AGAINST//EMPIRE, DISSYSTEMA, HOLOKAUST, or the mighty ARMISTICE though they started in the ’90s (POISON TRIBE has similar crunchy metallic breaks). For some reason, I am also reminded of a less Eurocrust SILNA WOLA—clearly a compliment in this quarter—but that could be because of the vocals that take a bit of time to get used to. This recording, although cruder than the first one, is a clear improvement in my book, and I am curious to see what POISON TRIBE could achieve with a more cohesive story to tell on an EP.
Nothing is a quirky little EP by a Detroit group without a clear sense of identity, but they do have a couple good songs, so that’s something. “Fur Coats From Outer Space” takes the CRAMPS on a pleasant Sunday drive, which is followed by the unmistakable BEAT HAPPENING homage “Higher Power.” “Arctic Eyes” slinks back into the goo goo muck with a decent little mover, but the last song is where a tighter focus would have paid off. It’s called “Down With Acid Punk,” but instead of a snide takedown of, say, Timmy Vulgar, or a savage example of the genre in the manner of many a classic piss-take, it’s just another pretty good garage rocker. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, he said, as he scratched his head.
Here’s a femme-fronted darkwave/post-punk group out of Chile, with what appears to be their first release? While I couldn’t find much on the group, they were recorded in Valparaíso, and picked up by the Santiago-based Cintas Taciturnas, while also releasing cassettes on Comidillo out of Berlin, Germany. The Comidillo Bandcamp page has a mystical write-up on the band…or what the band may mean to you as a listener, or something? Opening with “Who are RADIO SINIESTRA? Most can’t tell, unless you’re there.” Not shitting on it here—it’s a darkly painted canvas of an angular, crusty sound, mixed with bright spots of anarchic joy portraying this seven-song cassette. For avid listeners of MRR Radio, you probably heard the album opener “Sombras Marinales” on Erika’s episode #1883. For fans of anything in those “marginal shadows,” this is a must-listen.
Great example here of how a cluster of established, recognizable modes, tics, and tropes can get fed into the sausage machine and come out as something pretty…original. In SCREENSAVER—who started off as a US/AUS split concern and by the point of this, their second album, seem to be specifically Melbourne-based—you can hear the rocking yearning of peak SLEATER-KINNEY, the blunt thunk of early ’80s disco punk, coldwave’s synth-licked gloom (or the modern update of BELGRADO), and high-rolling BANSHEES goth rock. Often some of all of those are happening at once, which is in itself a niche of sorts, but a bigger factor in all this is that SCREENSAVER are really adept songwriters. Hook-crafters, especially, but also their switches between minimal/maximal, clean/fuzzy, throw your hands up/cry into your cider…spend some time with Decent Shapes too, it harbours rewards.
If you like the SPITS, then you’ll love SHRINKWRAP KILLERS. They play that brand of synth punk that uses electronic sounds as weapons of annoyance while heaping as much punk into the equation as possible. Conspiracy theory themes mix with the aural experience to shed light on real contemporary issues, albeit with a dystopian sci-fi slant. Imagine all of the most evil fictions becoming real—well, welcome to Planet Earth 2023, because it’s all playing out on our pocket computers and in the streets, and it’s this context that SHRINKWRAP KILLERS uses for artistic inspiration. Scorching guitars and chugging bass intertwine with the electro-noise to form an intimidating but witty production that is entertaining like a slasher movie, fun like a car crash, and hanting like an amusement park after dark. “Darwin Daycare” (a song about feral children surviving in a violent environment) is a prime example of the dark sense of humor that pervades this recording. If H.P. Lovecraft wrote punk songs, they’d probably sound a lot like this.
I wanted to like this album. I really, really did. I love the album art, and I’m a sucker for any hardcore band with sub-minute-long songs. Before I start with my griping, I will say that the drummer on this album is incredible. Fast and tight as hell. I had to do a little research to make sure it wasn’t a drum machine—I really wish they were louder in the mix. There is absolutely no low end on this album. Every song sounds weak. The bass and drums are tinny, and the treble is turned up way too loud. In fact, the bass is so low in the mix that I sometimes can’t even tell that it’s there. The singer is just not built for this style of music. They drench his vocals in some weird compression effect that, again, eliminates the low end and makes it sound way too airy. I assume it’s supposed to make his voice raw and grittier, but it only makes it sound like he’s trying to clear his throat constantly. During “Torn Out,” the tenth track on the album, there’s a portion where he speaks the lyrics, and it honestly sounds better than his attempt to do the tough-guy vocals. Very paint-by-numbers hardcore here. Nothing feels fresh, and they really over do it with the samples, placing them directly in the middle of the song where it causes a giant clusterfuck, sounding sloppy and disjointed. STIFF MEDS has the talent. I just don’t know if it’s conducive to this type of songwriting.
Super-reverbed electronic drums plus strident, pitched synthetic devices on this flaming hot release. The egg-punk disease is very well spread all over the world, and here we have the Roman strain. Monochromatic voices are spot-on, sometimes in a conversational mode with each other, sometimes running together, in a crazy mix that works. “Escape from a virtual room” feeling that, mixed with the vocals and synth mayhem, goes to a really fast-paced final video game level. Mastering could be better; some tracks are remarkably louder than others, but it might have been the floppy disk failing. “Cat Car” is so similar to the PRISON AFFAIR formula that it’s scary, but the other tracks were quite good and hold their own. Suggested tracks: “Surface 1” for a programmed voice experience that reminded me of WWW, and the intro “Search Engine” that lets us hear what they are capable of. Eggy people should hear them.
Catchy, hook-filled rock’n’roll from Montreal’s TAXI GIRLS on their Coming Up Roses 12”, featuring five tracks filled with poppy harmonies and muscular reverb-drenched guitars, blending elements of classic ’70s punk with ’90s garage rock. Actually, the more I hear, the more I think this would fit in nicely with the early ’00s Detroit scene alongside DIRTBOMBS and DETROIT COBRAS. Highlights include the surfy “Hands Off” and “Stay With Me,” which reminds me of BLACK LIPS at their sweetest. Highly recommended.
Eight tracks of exuberantly original post-punk from this Leeds band. Beautiful production highlights thick bass lines, trebly guitar, and vocals that range from a hyper-vocal Mark E. Smith on speed to Nick Cave’s deranged carnival barker era. The songs take many unexpected twists and go from twangy swamp guitar to angular atonal stings to blissful chiming indie layers with ease. The minute-and-a-half blast “Wiping Arse Blues” moves quickly from a dissonant sideways guitar riff into a downward chromatic structure with staccato vocals delivered so quickly they verge on rap. “I Shot Him and I Ran” begins with a flash of 2-Tone ska that steadily builds into joyous chaos. The clever lyrics take pointed shots at grotesque wealth in “Billionaire”: I wanna be a billionaire / With that same self-satisfied, glassy-eyed stare / As Jeff Bezos that wonky-eyed fuck,” and the British royal family in “Beware an Ancient Door”: “We all have our needs and our wants / I said, ‘But Andrew, a nonce is a nonce, is a nonce, is a nonce’.” The latter constructs a danceable beat over the worst keyboard pattern of all time before slowing into a pastoral indie guitar strum that is surprisingly beautiful. The record ends with “Limeade,” an acoustic campfire sing-along that manages to come off as a charming finale. VOLK SOUP is a uniquely original band with personality to spare, and is worth your time.
Bats and ghouls, creatures of the night, this compilation calls for you! A four-way split with BLU ANXXIETY, SCIMITAR, MOIRA SCAR, and UN HOMBRE SOLO; four darker-than-dark examples of how modern electronic music can sound when it dwells in a darker spectrum. New York’s BLU ANXXIETY leads the way with their industrialized, goth-tinged approach to electronica with the sinister yet intense song “Buried Alive.” Duo SCIMITAR from L.A. delivers a more classic approach to electronic music with a darkwave banger in the form of “Almas.” From Oakland, the trio MOIRA SCAR stitches parts of deathrock, punk, goth, and even hints of psychobilly into a disgusting Frankenstein’s monster of a track called “Zombie TV,” and Brooklyn-based artist UN HOMBRE SOLO, a solo effort as the name suggests, goes for an old school EBM feeling mixed with a Spanish movida type melancholy (I’m guessing the name was lifted off a DECIMA VITIMA song) on the brilliant song “Quebrando Espejos.”
D-beat hardcore from Bandung, Indonesia, with well-executed sounds from at least a decade ago merging with a slight metallic infusion, but it’s mostly highly energetic and non-stop speedy on some of the tracks. Flirts with emocore, and the female vocals are all over the place. Atemporal hardcore that reminds me of the Latin scene from the ’00s, with long ample screams backed by octaves and such—perhaps a bit outdated, but that’s only my opinion. Give it a go, it’s interesting if you are into this type of sound and melodic features.
From, at this point in their evolution, a haphazard combination of Bristol, south Wales, and Leeds, ATOMÇK is described by someone (possibly themselves?) as “UK grindcore veterans.” Sounds kinda funny, but thinking about it, they’ve been hard on it since 2006 or so without a lot of pauses, and few UK bands have actually played grindcore for that long. I would call Towering Failures their fourth album proper, depending on how you go about formatting things, and it’s a most energetic crusher that, rhythmically speaking, gets in ample wriggling and twisting while it’s blasting. “Brain Rot,” the LP’s first song, sounds weirdly hardcore—like post-VOID type hardcore—if you ignore the textbook grind snare sound and inhuman screeching vocals, at least. Thereafter, eighteen more portions of buckwild tempo-pushing, sludgy dropouts, guitar parts with justifiable prog ambitions (like the clean metallic bits on “Fives,” the last track on the album) and song titles which range from grind scene-themed punning to ersatz NAPALM DEATH to Welsh slang for being pissed-off.
Really high-energy, poppy spiky punk from France via Switzerland. They’ve been kicking around in different forms since 1999, some lineups with more mohawks and spikes than others. This lineup finds them more mature but no less punk than before. They did a split with the KRAYS way back, and that gives you some idea what’s in store. The best songs like “No One and Everyone” or “Later in the Night” have a nice mid-tempo street punk vibe, maybe closer to KOMINTERN SECT than the less desirable, faster NEW FOUND GLORY-ish numbers. Keep on keepin’ on, gents.
For something wanting to “be nothing,” there is a whole slew of somethings going on here that are a little difficult to decipher. This is the bands second full-length release, and it features a total of fifteen songs which have pretty close to just as many confusing amalgamations of sub-genres within them. Some have simplistic drunk punk repetitive riffs, other songs add in a bit of garage-freakout BUTTHOLE SURFERS kinda vibes, and still others feel like artsy math-rock, but math-rock played by people who maybe flunked out of their algebra classes. There’s certainly some cool aspects peppered in here, but it all comes off a bit confusing and overwhelming. One of the songs, “Battle of the Billionaires,” feels like a combination of the introduction riffs to about a dozen classic rock songs butted up against one another but never getting to the real meat of the song. TGI Fridays Endless Apps™ in band form.
Have not heard from Vancouver, BC’s CHAIN WHIP since the mighty 14 Lashes LP that got into my hands late 2020 or so. There have been a couple of releases from them that have slipped by me, but this one is just killer and filled to the brim with aggro, brutish squeals from a gutter. Listen to “Toothless,” “Teenage Kinks,” or the slowed-down “State Hornets,” and tell me this isn’t CAREER SUICIDE by way of ’80s Huntington Beach. Until the band does a proper Midwest/cowtown tour, I am relegated to YouTubing the hell out of them. Living in Europe? Go see them now. Neon Taste has my money.
Melbourne band CHILDREN OF SORROW existed for a short time during the mid-’80s and played moody hardcore anarcho-punk that bites similar to T.S.O.L. Thundering bass that struts and slams comes from a double layer of bass and fretless bass (that’s right, there’s no six-string guitar jangle in here), while vocalist David “Ossie” Eldridge unleashes a vocal assault that ranges from a Jack Grisham-sounding delivery to all-out hardcore mayhem. Songs shift from mid-tempo to lightspeed in the time it takes to blink. This 12″ is packaged with a lyric sheet and a four-page zine documenting the band’s history that includes photos and gig flyers. The thunderous bass and drum work is perfect for Neanderthal pacing, but when the speedy sections hit, you’ll need to be prepared for crashing into everything around you. Needless to say, this is a brilliant document of a lesser-known band that is worthy of a longstanding position in everyone’s collection!
Brilliant follow-up to their fantastic debut—CLASS drops a banger of an album courtesy of Feel It Records. Channeling some truly classic-sounding tones colored in the rosiest tint of ’77-style punk, If You’ve Got Nothing careens from sounding like the BOYS to the sneering power pop of WHITE HEAT. The wizardry of songcrafting is something to behold, with layers of harmonies propelling ordinary melodies into the orbit of a higher plane. CLASS doesn’t sound that much like the EXPLODING HEARTS, but they draw from the same wellspring of influences. The ratio of punk to pop varies from song to song, while the balance is kept consistent. This creates a cohesion that eludes most bands. Subsequently, If You’ve Got Nothing is more than a mere collection of songs that work well together. It’s a proper album, striking gold where others have come up empty-handed. There’s a deftness to what CLASS has achieved here that indicates there will be quite a bit more to come. It’ll be hard to top this, but I’ll be eagerly awaiting the attempt.
Hard rock grunge punk from Australian surf city Perth. They owe much to the CHOSEN FEW, POWER, and the COSMIC PSYCHOS, which should mean a zero-braincell hit with me, but I’m not totally sold here. While there’s some definite rippers here like “Gone in the Gong” and “Death Rattle,” there’s not quite the charm of the aforementioned PSYCHOS showing. They’re named after a beloved sports figure, which could be suspect as I hate sports. Still not a tape I’d toss out the window. Don’t litter, please.
DTR (or DEATH TO THE REGIME) was a band from Linköping, Sweden that was active from 1983 to 1985. Here we are dealing with a compilation of the full catalog of this short-lived band: tracks one through nine were recorded in 1985 at Bosse Sound, tracks ten through nineteen are from the compact cassette Rise Another World, and the final two tracks are demos recorded in 1984. They played fast and thrashy hardcore punk, but retained a Swedish musical sensibility with great melody. It’s not crossover, but it sure is close to that!
