Reviews

MRR #446 • July 2020

Agonista Embusteros 10″

AGONISTA consists of San Diego and Tijuana scene veterans who in the past 25 years appeared in BUMBKLAATT, SWING KIDS, SOME GIRLS, RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIFE and SPANAKORZO, to name a few. In contrast to some of their previous outlets, AGONISTA plays what they themselves might consider a rather “traditional” brand of hardcore: a tight crustcore/’90s Swedish HC approach sung both Spanish and English, something along the lines of DISRUPT, STATE OF FEAR, SEVERED HEAD OF STATE, UNCURBED that was found in the Prank or Distortion Records catalogs a generation back. AGONISTA carries on the tradition particular to the Tijuanese crustcore style that centered around DISCORDIA (members of which went on to BUMBKLAATT and COÄCCION in the ’00s). Being a cross-border band between the US and Mexico, they directly feel and experience the complex reality between the two countries in their daily lives. Their output seems to be the direct friction from the socioeconomic differences spawned from the systematic oppression of people’s lives tangled by racism, drug abuse, financial instability, and violence. Embusteros sounds like a burst of the filthy remnants that have been forcefully hidden underneath the rug by the “America’s Finest City” and the feeling of anger and frustration in order to survive in “Sin City.”

Alambre de PÁºas Venganza cassette

Second demo tape of ALAMBRE DE PÁšAS from Chile. Standard quality of their current scene, with sonic similarities: they play beat-driven, simplified hardcore punk, using frantic vocals and restrained tension. The buzzing repetition recalls a distant noise of a rolling chainsaw. In some of their moments they reminded me of the BOBBY SOXX 7″, with the evil mid-tempo mania, and MASTURBATION from Japan with the unsophisticated yet melodic approach. This tape feels like a puzzle piece for the recent Chilean scene. Alltogether they testify that genuine hardcore is played all around the globe at the same level and intensity. Many creators have been acknowledged as part of a movement instead of honored independently. Time will tell if ALAMBRE DE PÁšAS remain over the surface, but listening to their demo makes me appreciate their scene the same as I do the band, and via I appreciate how colorful the subculture is. Maybe I will not remember one single riff soon, but while playing the tape I think punk is fucking sick and sometimes this is enough.

An Uneasy Peace Speaking in Tongues EP

I’ve heard whispers about this project, and was very excited to let it sink into my ears. A recording project featuring Lance Hahn (J CHURCH) and Stan Wright (SIGNAL LOST, DEATHREAT, ARCTIC FLOWERS), Dave Wuttke (DRUNKEN BOAT, LIVING UNDER LIES) and Mike Warm (DEFECT DEFECT, OBSERVERS), this was a collection of hardcore songs that Lance wrote, songs that presumably didn’t fit his vision for J CHURCH. The man was a master, a punk historian, aficionado and mostly a fan, and I can only imagine that the other players were more than happy to help him realize his vision. It’s great. It’s like Lance from J CHURCH writing hardcore songs. “Fighting Sleep” is the choicest cut, harnessing a TALK IS POISON-esque energy right from the opening breakdown, but ultimately AN UNEASY PEACE is 80s USHC steeped in anarcho-punk and 90s DIY…which is exactly what it sounds like.

Celebrity Handshake No Space/No Time LP

We’ve been playing reviewer roulette with this band’s records due to there being so damn many, so now I take a turn. Everything you’ve already read about them is still here. Stream-of-consciousness, outsider (the other/original Portland, to be specific) garage punk with an actual wild thing not so much singing, but ranting and crooning and howling (among other animal noises) as the rest of the band coolly jams underneath. Sometimes they get more wild too, like with the bizarre piano damage that ends the first side. This record listens more like a series of jam or improv sessions than a collection of songs, and for all I know, the vocals are 100% off-the-cuff, but it’s fascinating to say the least. If gigs still exist in the future, I hope to catch them sometime.

Cobra Cobra Cobra Cobra cassette

Self-described “São Paulo, DC, Buffalo super freak group,” with members of PENUMBRA, FUTURO, COKE BUST, and RADIATION RISKS, recorded in Brazil in 2017 and released by Buffalo’s More Power Tapes. It is truly a collection of freak hardcore! Taking full advantage of whatever technology is available to make this sound like it came from the future, or from outer space…or from the past’s fantastical vision of the future and outer space. It sounds like it might have a keyboard but no such instrument is credited. This is fun, doesn’t seem to take itself too seriously, and definitely rips by any standard.

Cold Feet Punk Entity LP

Early-’80s-style USHC that injects XClaim sensibilities aligned most closely with My America: that wall of guitar, vocals in the middle of the snotty-tough spectrum, a specific Bostonian dissonance in some of the chord progressions (which can also be heard on Get It Away), with a more loose and irreverent up-and-down-the-West-Coast sensibility from the same time period, or perhaps some of the slightly later between-LP POISON IDEA odds-and-ends, which were probably drawing from the same well as the latter. In any event, one of the best hardcore bands to come out of Baltimore in years.

Concrete Lawn Aggregate LP

The plan is in place. Full destruction, full rejection. CONCRETE LAWN are the children of the “I wasn’t even alive back then why should I care?” generation, ready to invert that fucked logic til the blood rushes to your head, figuring out the cogs and wires not too far beneath the surface, jamming them up with piss, snot, vinegar, all in real time. No shit they don’t like it. This is far from a one-note group: Once I watched them murder (in a good way) a TALKING HEADS cover while an old man got me in a headlock and tried to kiss my neck. Maddison recently finished high school and was, I believe, sixteen when this group began. In fact none of them have burnt up much of their early twenties yet, but to be sure none of that shit matters and they certainly do not care for your creepy overtures either. Not going graciously. With furious posture and cavernous echo, this LP is a wicked, expansive progression from their quick ’n’ dirty demo. New young boots on that timeworn twist we know from the best of LA’s Dangerhouse groups they’ve been compared to already, lurching violently towards the gothic without any of the histrionics, from a GERMS-y buzz to screeching nighttime howls. There’s scheming outrage at Australia-as-a-façade, of course, railing against the climbing death toll of a colony gone forever berserk. Look, if we have to go with “snotty” here, like everyone else, then OK, sure, but only because snot is highly concentrated, a little bit naughty, gross but delicious. Put this on your tongue when everybody is looking.

Dangereens Tough Luck LP

Jingly jangly piano! Jingly jangly guitar! Jingly jangly trumpet and sax! This is some sharp and full-bodied rock and/or roll from Montreal, which seems to have a never-ending supply of great art seeping out from it. This is the kind of rock that you may initially be struck with the inclination to say “Hey! They’re ripping off…” and then realize you can’t actually pick the band. It sounds familiar, but that’s because this collection of musicians is just that good. There’s some glam, some garage, some power pop, and a whole lot of frantic energy. The first line of the album is “Here I am,” and from that point on, you’ll feel like you’re on a musical journey with a very showy guide. Check out “Streets of Doom,” for a foot-tappin’, booty shakin’ sampler of the glory.

DeStructos Blast! cassette

Slick and upbeat post-punk from Philadelphia, filled to the brim with the tension between bleakness and determination. Far on the sophisticated end of the punk spectrum, the tracks incorporate some dance-punk, post-hardcore, samples, and artsy vibes among staccato yelling in a seemingly self-aware re-working of punk’s original postmodern project of cannibalizing culture and regurgitating it in new and thought-provoking ways. It reminds me of an updated version of HUGGY BEAR, but they can also execute pro-sounding new wave magic.

Dinged Up Mucho Dolor LP

This record was released digitally in 2016, but thanks to the swell folks at Snappy Little Numbers in Denver, it’s gotten a proper release on vinyl now. The sound is not exactly homogeneous and that makes it difficult to pin down. But I’ll be goddamned if “Don’t Torture Me” isn’t the power pop banger of the summer. That track is just under four minutes and it’s a dancey romp the whole way through. Something that is worth mentioning is Joe Rankin (the person behind DINGED UP) recorded every single sound on the record themself. I’ll say that the vocals seem a little bit distant in the recording, but I think it works really well. Especially when they’re layered with woo-ooos and background vocals like in the song “Noose.” And Joe Rankin has such an interesting singing voice that helps DINGED UP stand out from the crowd. Many of the tracks are fast-paced, high-energy jams, though “Dial Tone” slows everything way down in the middle of the record and shows off their mellow side. I love all the guitar parts—many of them are sharp and piercing while carrying a nice melody, and the instruments are mixed really well. I’d recommend giving this one a spin if you’re looking for something different but in a very good way.

Dirt Box Disco TV Sex Show CD

This quartet has been around for a decade now, and apparently, this is their eighth full-length effort. Apparently I haven’t been keeping up with the “new and trending” for a while. Their promo one-sheet lists the BONZO DOG DOO DAH BAND as one of their influences (along with the likes of KISS, RAMONES, DAMNED and KERBDOG), so that was an instant thumbs up. Even better is their glorious blend of glam, pop-punk and rock’n’roll. Indeed, being Brits, it’s perhaps hardly surprising that they have much more than a passing musical resemblance to both SLAUGHTER & THE DOGS and COCK SPARRER (at their Shock Troops finest—including “Out On an Island”). Can’t really give ’em much more superlatives than that. Singalong choruses, excellent melodic twin guitars, and layered vocals, and some killer tunes. Not so sure about their threads, or stage monikers, but I guess you can’t have it all.

Doldrey Invocation of Doom LP

Like a modern-day raw punk take on old school death metal, this one brings bloody hell out of your imagination and into the streets. These shredders out of Singapore sound like an ice-cold OBITUARY with a mullet-hawk and a serious pogo habit. This record really hits all the marks. They’ve got tons of speed-picking, CELTIC FROST-style dirges and black and white cover art with demons, swords and skeletons—all with a sneering punk undertone that is undeniable. It’s like they made a record just for me. Not to be missed!

Endless Column Endless Column LP

Recorded in 2015 and released last year, ENDLESS COLUMN’s debut LP is a warm, surf-tinged 12-string-guitar-laden modern punk pop classic. Featuring a who’s who of aughts-era punks, this Chicago-based band has moody songcraft in common with the members’ former groups (namely, the OBSERVERS and DAYLIGHT ROBBERY) without explicitly sounding like those earlier projects. There’s still the tinge of WIPERS influence here, alongside some surprisingly BYRDS-influenced guitarwork. And then there are parts of this album that almost sound more like a janglier SST-era SCREAMING TREES?! It’s hard to pinpoint influences beyond gesturing to the broader pantheon of song-driven American indie and garage punk, but regardless this is a terrific album that rewards repeat listening.

Eyes and Flys Coastal Access / Black Flowers 7″

This band is a mystery to me in credentials and style. They come from Buffalo and play an earnest melding of classic rock and 100 FLOWERS-style reverbed artiness. Unfortunately the atonal vocal style is distracting and not too pleasant. Musically, it’s an intriguing listen and exudes a dark, paisley-coated dreariness with lyrics that border on poetic. A beautifully silkscreened cover envelopes it perfectly—all back and covered in flowers. I maybe could see them on a bill with COME HOLY SPIRIT but I’m just not so crazy about those vocals.

Forbidden Wizards Reheated Cabbage 10″

Now we’re talking, freaks. Some snappy, jerky Dutch punk for your earholes. You’ve got East Bay Ray guitars, you’ve got FLESHIES attitude, you’ve got a fast, inventive attack that’ll drag fans of URANIUM CLUB and the like to the edge of their collective seat/s and dare them not to dance. FORBIDDEN WIZARDS don’t sound like they are trying to ape anyone or anything, they sound like they evolved on their own sonic island—an island where weirdness rules and flamboyance is celebrated…in other words: my kind of island.

Frisk Extinction 12″ EP

Sonic abominations FRISK spend most of this record relentlessly drilling wailing monotony into the grooves—closer to ’90s college nihilism than anything classified as hardcore, they manifest their manipulations on the six-plus-minute “Attachment,” a track that owes more to psychedelia than punk. It’s just that the wailing sounds so desperate that it can hardly being anything but punk. It’s a very intentional mess, with power electronics creating the foundation for some sections as much as the pummeling rhythm section does on others. While the short, disorienting bombast of “Extinction” is probably my favorite track, it’s the contrast between that and the long-form destruction that closes the side that makes everything work. It’s a taste…it’s not the meal. And I’m gonna go ahead and make the “WALLS do JESUS LIZARD” comparison that popped into my head, because after three listens it’s still there.

Galore Galore LP

The first album from GALORE, a San Francisco quartet conceptually descended from a musical lineage that can be traced back to the VELVET UNDERGROUND, as well as the PASTELS, BEAT HAPPENING, and any number of C86-era greats after them—jangling and melodic, but also charmingly imperfect and a little rough around the edges. The LP’s most sprawling tracks like “Deja Vu” and “Henry” (still only about three minutes long!) tumble along slow and sweet like molasses, all unhurried beats and understated chiming guitar that’s so stripped down that it almost fades into oblivion, grounded by the occasional tambourine rattle or xylophone strike. That languid vibe is countered by a much more raucous streak, especially in the spiky “Lydia” and “Shiver,” that strikes the sort of balance between sharp, staccato post-punk and spartan pop perfection that modern OZ DIY bands like TERRY and PRIMO! have absolutely dominated lately, although they could be facing some serious cross-Pacific competition from GALORE now—an auspicious beginning!

Gang 90 & Absurdettes Demo 1982 EP

Over the course of several years, Brazil’s Nada Nada Discos has established itself as among the best record labels in the world. NND has been particularly instrumental in lovingly reissuing some truly necessary Brazilian punk and hardcore gems. This new GANG 90 & ABSURDETTES 7″—featuring three long lost demo tracks from 1982—is another Brazilian reissue, although GANG 90 is more accurately described as pure 80s new wave. For those who are unfamiliar with the group, GANG 90 released several singles and albums in Brazil throughout the ’80s, but this recording represents some of their earliest (and roughest) recordings. Musically, this 7″ baaaaaaarely qualifies for review in a punk fanzine—I have a feeling Tim Yo would’ve axed this one in the day—but the charming lo-fi recording, spunky bedroom pop vibes, and early BOW WOW WOW energy has me convinced. For me, “Convite Ao Prazer” is the mixtape-worthy hit here, as some of the KID CREOLE influence across the record occasionally loses me. As always with NND, this record comes with gorgeous packaging featuring amazing archival photos. Not for the punk purists, but a must-listen for the wavers who still resent the rigid uniformity that hardcore imposed on arty DIY scenes the world over in the early ’80s.

Glen Schenau Jhumble / Jearnest 7″

What a delight. The A-side is unabashed BIG FLAME worship: scattershot rhythms, rubber band bass, and cheese-grater guitar skitter around a freshly waxed KITCHEN’S FLOOR; melodic vocals tiptoe gingerly through the room in search of a tune. Three minutes and forty-seven seconds of beautiful incoherence. The flipside is a little less frenetic—you could almost call it tuneful—but no less brilliant. For devotees of the scratchy, insolent, gruff-witted Ron Jonson era of post-punk; the crowd for whom “C86” is more than a lazy descriptor for wimpy jangle-pop.

Hellmaistroz En El Cielo Está El Infierno LP

I hope you’re ready to go fucking nuts, because this one is some solid-as-fuck crusty hardcore out of Monterrey, Mexico that will have you solo-circle-pitting your bedroom ’till you puke. This is that straight-ahead, heavy-hitting D-beat pummeling that few can deny.  It’s as they say: all killer, no filler. Lyrics are in Spanish, and from my limited understanding of the language I gathered that they think that Nazis and politicians are shit. Features a cover of “Stepping Stone,” the MINOR THREAT version, but they made it about beer …I think. For those that hate to rock: stay well clear. Everyone else, keep an eye out for this one.

Jackson Reid Briggs & The Heaters Hammered LP

Mr. Briggs and his HEATERS specialize in a familiar blend of lager-drenched Antipodean rock’n’roll in the lineage of the SAINTS. Nine lamentations of dead-end desperation and the search for temporary release set to wave after wave of layered, chiming guitar, punctuated by semi-buried keyboard and horns. I bet their raw, muscular riffage goes down real well in the sweaty function room of a suburban bowls club.

Krig I Hudik III LP

These guys cranked out a couple EPs nearly ten years ago, likely embraced by fans of raucous Swedish hardcore punk. According to little research KRIG I HUDIK is a cover band of sorts, with members of MISSBRUKARNA, TOTALITÄR, BRAINBOMBS and SWINEHOOD rendering songs from Rolf RevÁ¥lt’s late’-70s/early-’80s bands. If you worship Swedish punk, TOTALITÄR and MISSBRUKARNA should be on your altar, and with Poffen’s signature vocal style and the drilling guitars KRIG I HUDIK continues to sound like a mix of those two bands. This 12″ compiles fluid and expert renderings of songs by MASSGRAV, DAGENS UNGDOM, ROLF & REVOLTÖRERNA, the TURFS, MISSBRUKARNA and a couple uncredited…originals? Who knows, but it’s a great slab of expert-level raw hardcore punk. I like the previous 7″s better but that’s probably just a personal format bias.

Launcher Bone Saw LP

In their first full-length release, LA’s LAUNCHER delivers twelve super fast tracks, all but one clocking in under two minutes. The sound channels some of that LA ’80s punk snottiness through a lens of rock’n’roll riffs, the result landing in a strange quadrant of punk populated by gross, freaky punk pioneers like the CRUCIFUCKS and also sometimes by snotty street punk bands like L.E.S. STITCHES or BLANKS 77. LAUNCHER keeps a tight hold on the fury and weirdness of that intersection while avoiding the cheesy tropes. There are no sing-along parts here.

Lion’s Law The Pain, The Blood, and The Sword LP

The latest full-length from Parisien Oi! stalwarts LION’S LAW; the venerable Wattie at the helm as is de rigueur for most contemporary French skinhead bands worth their sel, and backed by a motley crew of skins and punks they serve up a thoroughly modern take on Oi! Dabbling as much in E-TOWN CONCRETE style hardcore as it does KOMINTERN SECT style oi! traditionnel, it’s varied enough to stop it being one note as so many releases can be these days. Vocals in both English and French are reminiscent of MOTÖRHEAD in parts, a suitably gruff accompaniment to the rugged riffs ’n’ rhythm underpinning the whole thing. Decent stuff.

Lithics Tower of Age LP

If you’re familiar with LITHICS from either of their two previous albums, you’re not in for any surprises: they mine similar fields here more or less; usually less, in that if anything, they have stripped their minimalist approach back even further. There are BEEFHEART-ian moments when it seems like someone shuffled the song sheets and each member is playing to a different score. They do allow themselves one third-album stretch goal on “The Symptom”: an extended five-minute jam with Burroughs cut-up speak-sung lyrics. If punk is three chords and the truth, what can we say with one chord? One note? LITHICS’ punk is one note and a question.

Lost Cat Don’t Need a Man EP

LOST CAT are a 21st century version of a 1960s girl group. They are sweet and sassy and they throw in the occasional bad word. They can still be tough even when their heart is broken. The music is catchy and rockin’. There’s a syrupy ballad called “Fuck You.” Amusingly, the song’s title does not even appear in the lyrics. Fun stuff.

Maldición Enjaulados EP reissue

This review should focus on the quality difference of the actual media, since Enjaulados has been released on tape and lathe cut 7″ forms in 2017 already, followed up now by Rock SVB’s take with a vinyl version from 2019. If this is your first encounter with MALDICIÁ”N, or you look for mirroring your own opinion: They are from Santiago de Chile, proving again what a fertile ground South America is for contemprorary hardcore. In their elements MALDICIÁ”N does not reinvent the wheel. The vocals are echoed to devilish scary, the music is subordinated to create a primitive beat at the edge of pogo punk and dumbed down black metal, something that has been familiar in international hardcore. When I hear such, the test is whether its repetition can hypnotize me into focusing only on the power and movement of the music, perceived by my body, instead of thinking on the actual notes. Based on that, it is not weird this record has been released three times already. It has the kick that lets me believe the familiar sounds belong to MALDICIÁ”N, instead of solely being lifted gimmicks helping the band to trick its audience. The straight-ahead, vicious power is coated in perfect rawness that still has some distorted edge, but nothing is overdone. It’s a safe pick to spin this record, if you do not like it, still it will not hurt, if you are in the mood for primitive pumping hardcore they are also great addition to the spectrum of current sounds.

Mass Arrest Power LP

The Tunes: No bullshit. East Coast hardcore and D-beat punk crashing headlong into the early FUCKED UP 45s. I’m talking “Police” production tweaks on Swedish hardcore, and Oakland’s MASS ARREST do it all with style. It’s an addictive record full of hooks, and those hooks are on fucking fire. “Liberation” is clearly the cut, with the organ dropping in just as you drop the needle on the B-side and hear Boo Boo yell “I’m living for liberation / I’m living with my fist in the sky,”  but don’t dismiss the record for the single. There’s a joy in the very songs on Power that is hard to describe, and perhaps it’s the intensity and the determination that makes that joy hit so much harder—like the fucking DEXY’S MIDNIGHT RUNNERS bridge in “Black Identity Extremist” and the ’80s alt/pop melodies that permeate tracks like “New Town Drag” even through its distinctively tough hardcore chorus. The Band: You’re going to hear people talk about this time in our society for literal (as opposed to punk) generations. And of course the messages of Black Liberation on this record resonate particularly in this moment…but the determination is timeless, even if this particular record is a document of a time. Read the words, but don’t stop thinking when you put the record back on the shelf.

Melenas Dias Raros LP

Fuzzed-out jangle from Pamplona, Spain that channels the C86-obsessed late-aughts wave of _____ GIRLS groups (think both DUM DUM and VIVIAN), but thankfully, MELENAS also demonstrate a set of influences beyond what would have been covered in an issue of Vice from last decade. There’s some obvious traces of STEREOLAB and the super-underrated SLUMBER PARTY all over the droning organ, motorik beat, and ethereal, overlapping vocals that run through the opener “Primer Tiempo,” while the melancholic “No Puedo Pensar” could be a modern Spanish translation of ’80s Flying Nun heroines LOOK BLUE GO PURPLE, and “Ya No es Verano” works some subtle FEELIES-inspired tension that builds without ever fully breaking. Over the course of a full album, it all blurs into a soft-focus and slightly hallucinatory pop shimmer, just in time for a socially distant summer spent daydreaming about places we can’t possibly inhabit.

Narrow Adventure 1981-83 cassette

Essentially an early incarnation of the Paisley Underground-adjacent outfit WEDNESDAY WEEK but with Kjehl Johansen of the URINALS on bass, NARROW ADVENTURE was very much a product of the Los Angeles underground that they occupied from 1981 to 1983, coming out of an art-minded late-’70s punk tradition (Dangerhouse, et al.) that was giving way to the ’60s-enamored psychedelic jangle of bands like the BANGLES by the early ’80s. This archival collection is the first proper documentation of the group’s recorded material, as they never officially released anything before the line-up and name change to WEDNESDAY WEEK, although a few of the songs here later resurfaced in much more polished and new wave-oriented takes on the latter’s debut EP in 1983. NARROW ADVENTURE’s just slightly off-center approach to minimal DIY pop often comes across as a Californian counterpart to what OH-OK were simultaneously doing out in Athens, Georgia, particularly in the playfully harmonized dual vocals from sisters Kristi and Kelly Callan and the flashes of post-punk angularity in tracks like “Prop 2” and “Anyone Like Me,” although there’s also enough straightforward, sugar-sweet hooks in the mix that they could have easily had the same level of success as their L.A. peers the GO-GO’S if things had only played out a little differently for them. And on that note, it’s kind of unfortunate that this anthology will probably suffer at least some blanket disinterest resulting from being on a label generally thought of as an assembly line for goofball garage rock, but I’d love to be proven wrong there. Supreme ’80s cool-girl sounds, don’t write it off because of that ridiculous hamburger logo on the back!

Nightmare Fuel Vaccination for the Social Plague Demos — Part One

For the ’90s death metal and crust scene, and beyond really, a full-length had to have a classic intro. EXTREME NOISE TERROR, DISRUPT, HIATUS, MISERY, ENTOMBED, TERRORIZER… something to give you a taste of what you’d be fucking with. How often can that be said about a demo? Well, in the case of NIGHTMARE FUEL, you are getting just that. Punctuated STATE OF FEAR-style hardcore crust, with prolific death metal virtuosity. An exceptionally balanced smash-face fast-forward HAIL OF RAGE pummeling, to the thunderous aspects of DYSTOPIA with monstrous vocals. Far be it from me to turn down a new crust demo, but rarely do they exude such inspired changes, fills and detailed production. This is fucking leveling for a demo! I do not have the technical knowhow to describe the hi-fi tune of the guitars compared to the tight lo-fi of the snare, but that is all there. All is wrought with dense grooves and classic ’90s cinematic sampling. I love that! NIGHTMARE FUEL has created a prison of desperation, gloom and anxiety communicated via an apocalyptic galloping crustcore attack. A carnival of riff madness Á  la CENTINEX to the thrashing anthemic conversation of SHITLIST, NIGHTMARE FUEL nods to several generations of death metal, hardcore punk and crust in its most self-realized era. Underneath all that, poignant lyrics concerning depression, unraveled trust, unraveling truths, society’s fucks, the planet’s chaotically spiraling demise. A not-to-be-missed demo. And I know the foredooming LP will crush. This grim gang of the PNW will surely rule live if anything ever lives again.

Nosferatu A Field of Hope: Two Years of Decline & Decay LP

Imagine if a band worshipped (and studied, or just felt) KORO the way that DISCLOSE was obsessed with DISCHARGE, but in addition to being able to write songs that do justice to all the idiosyncrasies of the 700 Club EP, they also attempted to hypothetically fill in the gaps as to what a few subsequent KORO records might have sounded like if they had expanded on their initial sound (think DIE KREUZEN’s EP to LP transition, for one), but not lost any of what made them vital. I don’t think that’s what NOSFERATU has actively set out to do, and I’m not about to project any mythology here, but it damn sure sounds like it. I believe this LP collects everything not on the Solution A LP, which is not only great to have in one place, but my sole complaint about their Sounds of Hardcore EP was that it was mastered too quietly, and so it’s nice to have it at the volume it deserves. We are lucky to exist at the same time as these manic masters.

Oily Boys Cro Memory Grin LP

Some bands are bands. Others, due to chance, perseverance or sheer necessity, are something else. Maybe the band rejects “productivity” in terms of gigs, recordings or even anything approaching a consistent sound, and marches headlong into building a mythos instead. Maybe, in doing so, they become this shared vehicle for the struggles, pain, growth, life and fucked up times of the people in and around them. In hardcore, you can get impatient or cynical with this approach when you see it, or you can get on board with it and let it carry you away. OILY BOYS, you see, is more of a gang affiliation than a band; obtuse, nonsensical and ultimately overpowering. It’s unfortunate, yet likely, that the name will mean little to anyone outside of Australia, not dissimilar to that of LOWLIFE, a group with which they share members, the city of Sydney and a similar level of cult dedication. Calling any album “long-awaited” is a tired trope, rarely true, but the promised delivery of Cro Memory Grin has been a mysterious future threat hanging over pretty well the entire existence of the band. This LP has transcended the status of meme and become real only after adherents have come to learn by heart almost every song on it through live rendition. This gives it a cheeky whiff that’s equal parts “late birthday gift from Absent Father” and “The second coming of Jesus Christ.” It also immediately transports you to a gig. OILY BOYS live is always a special type of orchestrated humiliation for someone, occasionally even the band themselves. You know what it is you seek. Haggard surfers brutalised for pit infractions. Someone’s huffing spray paint. Caught in a dissociative mosh. A lot of drugs. A bit of damage. I was scared but only the first time. Live and on record are two contexts which are sonically an almost circular Venn diagram here, no small achievement and it’s a Micky Grossman joint so naturally it sounds larger than the known universe. “Lizard Scheme” sounds like four people dragging themselves through what they were promised was just a trial shift at the mechanical abattoir. What is life, if not the repeated process of biting off much, much more than we can chew? What elevates OILY BOYS way beyond basic bitch bad boy bravado is that this is a group seemingly invested in the denial of shame at any cost. It figures that the whole record is awash with proud declarations of personal brokenness, steeped in masc inversions that don’t let you assume, daring you to test for exaggeration, lying in wait for an opportunity to self-disclose. Personal misery worn like a badge, without pose, freed up from the trauma in the very telling of it. For a minute, there. “Heat Harmony” is their hit, awash with squall, a rare moment where you can still almost make out a moshable beat from the wreckage. “Stick Him,” the pre-flip long one, is the frontal lobotomy you’ve booked for three weeks in the future. You know you’ve gotta go. It is my deepest pleasure to announce that the song on this record titled “GTrance” is the one that sounds the most like the ’MAGS. Back alley with a bad pinger or three. “I can’t get away, maybe I don’t want to,” it climaxes in an abject summation of stuck lives no one asked to live on hot stolen land at the end of the earth. What, on that basis, does it look like to submit to the worst? To hope that the dark night of the soul never ends, so we can all stay exactly this high and exactly this sad at the terminal stuck groove of an afters? OILY BOYS plough on with the sacred knowledge that, with enough lubrication, we might all just slide on out through the other side. Glistening.

OKI MOKI Working Class Pop LP

OKI MOKI are a duo from San Sebastián, in the Basque Country of Spain. Their debut LP contains ten tracks of absolutely soaring bedroom pop, awash with layered melodies and jangle-pop hooks galore. Their sound is so melodic it borders on relentless: Take the knack for pop hooks of a JAY REATARD or Jeff Burke from MARKED MEN, sand smooth any rough edges, soak the whole thing overnight in molasses, and top with sugar sprinkles. It’s almost as if the songs are all chorus, all the time. Over the course of the album, there’s not much in the way of variety (especially with my ignorance of the language) so by the tenth song it’s sounding a little repetitive, but it’s a good sound, so why mess with it?

Osbo Demo cassette

An intriguing taped rendition of hardcore Á  la The Sydney Method, a particularly baleful approach to the sound which eschews chest-beating for hair-grabbing or just lobbing a beer bottle through a flock of Ibis. Members are commandeered from all corners: post-punk pontificators like TIM AND THE BOYS and the bad-tempered moshers of ILL BRIGADE. This is testament to the freeflow inspo approach that’s pleasingly particular to that city. OBSO brings it on deranged and loose, ritalin tremors regulating a credible urge to snap. There’s hateful intensity in this jagged guitar sound that keeps things panicky. Rattling cymbals pitch across open planes of loose menace, barely holding back until the final track where any overtures to good manners are wholesale abandoned in favour of a good old therapeutic roll-around-on-the-floor in the demilitarized zone between NO TREND and COLD SWEAT. More please.

Parsnip Adding Up EP

Ah, for some levity! These are sunshine people and the garden gourds are growing. I know that a PARSNIP is not a gourd, but bands like this do not grow alone! This great pop group has flourished since 2016 amongst the mulchy multi-member goodness of other Melbourne groups like BANANAGUN and SCHOOL DAMAGE and wow yes, significant others. Deep roots in acid-laced soil aided by budget fertiliser, their cutest single yet does further deep dipping into a psychy landscape that we already got a sample of on their last LP. Their reworking of “Treacle Toffee World” by FIRE is especially resplendent. PARSNIP’s cheery bounce doesn’t jar in this seemingly endless crisis time because it feels grounded, smiling but still ready to call out the “Crossword Cheater,” because what’s the point if you can’t play fair? Like the friend that really gets it, but still invites you to ride a brighter wave.

Partition Prodigal Gun LP

What we’ve got here is a three piece grungey as fuck band from Minneapolis. They pack a punch with their gritty, distorted guitar and screeching vocals. The songs are lo-fi and almost sludgey, but they also wail with some well timed solos. Reminds me a lot of MUDHONEY and bands of that ilk. PARTITION’s stuff sounds dingey, tough, and disinterested. Like something your cooler older sister might be into. They pull it off well.

Permanent Collection Nothing Good Is Normal LP

Technological advances have made “solo studio projects” a thing of relative ease, taking the one-person band far, far from the traditional realm of one-person bands. Obviously there’s the purity of vision aspect, and on records like Nothing Good Is Normal I swear that you can hear it without even knowing the source—but there’s also something to be said for the process of trading ideas and approaches and influences that sets the group experience apart from a “recording project.” How does that relate to Oakland’s PERMANENT COLLECTION, started as a side-solo project of YOUNG PRISMS’ Jason Hendardy in the early ’10s and then evolved into a full band before deconstructing back into a solo project for Nothing Good Is Normal? Well, it helps and it hurts. The streamlined melodic punk by way of hard driving high energy grunge is killer, like the best early Sub Pop tracks all fuzzed out and with no boring rock bits—it’s great, like Yerself Is Steam, but on speed (that’s a MERCURY REV record from like 1990ish—it’s really good). The vocals, however, are ever-present and serve as a distraction more often than not—overly treated and laid over the entire mix like a blanket that suffocates more than it comforts. I’m being overly critical, perhaps, because the songs and the approach are familiar and everything is very well executed. Ultimately, if the ’rona-reality is that we are going to have a lot more “solo studio projects” in our music listening lives, then I could settle into this pretty nicely.

Pionier Seriös Berlin cassette

This document is new to me, and I couldn’t be more pleased to have it in hand. Purportedly released as a promo only in 1981, the Berlin cassette by Germany’s PIONIER SERIÖS is an amalgamation of avant-NDW, repetitive beats and damaged synthesizers providing the background for a constant stream of spoken/chanted vocals (or manic howls, and always in German), the whole thing giving way to soft industrial dirges and no wave madness over the course of half an hour. True and genuine experimentation, not at all contrived, an exploration through and of sound, thankfully unearthed and repackaged by ZZK Tapes. Killer!

Quaker Wedding Jilted Lover / Where You Used To Live 7″

This is working person’s music. These are the kind of songs that say “we’ve been in plenty of other bands and learned a lot of things. This is the culmination of that learning. Now we’ll just keep getting better.” In the descriptions, they are proud to explain the geographic origins of these two tracks, as there are many miles on these three NYC musicians with references to Portland and Corvallis, OR and a history with Detroit. “Where You Used To Live” is a road song in that you feel like you’re following along with the singer as he walks past every landmark he names. It’s very easy to hear JAWBREAKER love in both the writing and delivery of the vocals, especially in the vocal cord strain on display in “Jilted Lover.” The drums and guitars display a dedicated, drunken confidence of musicians who are doing this because they compulsively need to. These are two angry, poetic love songs that deserve your time and aren’t afraid to demand it. Hop on the train with these guys now so you won’t regret missing it like you did with the GASLIGHT ANTHEM so many years ago.

Schizos Schizos LP

This Nashville band has been on my To Listen To list for awhile and thanks to the Supreme Gods of Punk at MRR, I’m enjoying this hot piece of teen angst in this comfort of my isolation cell. Pissed off, blown out to hell and over in minutes. Just how I like it. Think “Blowjobs” by GG AND THE SCUMFUCS but angrier and faster, this kicks off with the 2:17 minute magnum opus “Driller” and proceeds to burrow a happy hole from your skull to your spine. “ATF,” “BAR”, “Juice Is Loose”…minutes feel like seconds until this rectal lobotomy leaves you a warm puddle of soil and blood. The last thumps of “Banned In Birmingham” blows my system. Fuuuck. It’s young, it’s bratty, and it’s annoying as all fuckall. I love them. I hate them. I want to be them. SICK THOUGHTS, early OBLIVIANS…blah, blah. Buy it. Take it to the grave.

Shitload Flatten the Curve CD

Primitive, one-person thrash-crust with a drum machine and a quarantine theme. This is the kind of solo act that proudly declares their total incompetence in musicianship, recording and especially drum machine programming, but still must rock their bedroom closet studio into rubble. Sure, it’s kind of terrible, but it made me chuckle a little. It’s worth a spin, but probably just one.

Side Action Saykopatik Hula cassette

The Gauguin-esque cover is great—it suggests a rare creativity that is playful, fun, violent and cool. Then the music starts, soon all the noisy cacophony falls on the bass and I find myself at the imaginary scene of the cover. It’s hardcore, fast and simple, right when it got to be, although loud, distorted and rudimental enough that it sounds fresh. As if SIDE ACTION uses the tools of their environment instead of replicating its relics. The dynamics between vocals and music feels as if the former were on a higher RPM than the rest of the band. Together it’s brilliant noise, the atmosphere of the record is buzzing, while their chaos is controlled. Sometimes things are just so simple yet meaningful—and joyful they target our feelings instead of our intellect. Those gathered thoughts are personal and feel silly to share it with the public. So it will become a strange secret which in a way shared between you and the band. When outsiders feel to be connected to strangers due to a band, something special has been created.

Smut First Kiss 12″

I saw SMUT twice here in Oakland: once a completely brilliant hot drunken mess with a faulty distortion pedal and performance-enhancing technical confusion, the other time just a regular, competent show. Same approving audience reaction at both shows. A general “feel-the-darkness as truth” manifests through SMUT, and this 12″ is permanent proof. There is self-abuse, there are drugs and sex, admissions and humility, punks’ experiences through punk music, devoid of the boring performative bullshit we scroll through all day every day. First Kiss is reminding me how I may have taken punk for granted pre-plague, but I know I was helplessly engaged at those two shows. And now we enjoy these eight tracks of pummelling hardcore that coulda been among the best examples from the Mutha Records roster in a different era, foul and lean but not sketchy or despicable. Or maybe the unmitigated power of early SS DECONTROL and JERRY’S KIDS. These East Coast comparisons are fine for reference but kind of unfair because this band falls into a trajectory of LA punk that’s been consistently inspiring for ten-plus years. Can’t wait til the citizens of the US value public health enough to return to a reality where we can pit to SMUT again, but in the meantime this 12″ rules!

Soul Butchers Skin on Fire CD

This record starts off rather generically. The first song “Skin on Fire” has a ’90s-hard-rock-wanting-to-be-garage-rock sound that immediately turns me off. I didn’t like it back then and I still don’t like it. That’s unfortunate because if I wasn’t obligated I probably would have just turned this CD off. Track two “Yoo Hoo” has a much more interesting ’90s style going for a dirty, distorted bluesy garage rock sound. The record gets more enjoyable from there, but their sound is a bit random. There is an attempt at ’80s gothy post-punk complete with a sampling of the riff from “Public Image” on “Make Me” which kind of makes me smile. They go for a serious REPLACEMENTS homage with “See Me Again.” They will occasionally veer back into the hard rock thing a few times, but not too much to make me turn the record off.

Squelch Chamber Down So Low cassette

Here’s a brain-cell-blasting total freak out from Pennsylvania. This one is essentially electronic noise, some drumming and shouted vocals. The songs are structured but no riffs or melodies, just hisses buzzes and drones. Drumming ranges from solid stone-outs to industrial dirges to spastic blast beats. Trying to get weird? Look no further.

The Cool Greenhouse The Cool Greenhouse LP

If you’re already hip to this name via the London and Landlords singles or Crap Cardboard Pet EP (the latter making the COOL GREENHOUSE, to date, the only British act to have been released on Lumpy Records, which seems like it counts for something even if I don’t know what exactly), then you’ll know it’s not a band but a person, Tom Greenhouse, with a drum machine. No longer! Here is The Cool Greenhouse, a debut album which turns the COOL GREENHOUSE into a full group, human drummer and all. It’s a bit more hi-fi than Tom’s previous outings, but still agreeably shonky, with the fucked-sounding garage organ remaining in place (now played by Merlin Nova, daughter of THIS HEAT’s Charles Hayward, dynasty fans). Foremost, though, the sense is of a vehicle for Tom’s lyrical outlook: there are a lot of words here, and with most songs between three and five minutes things could have dragged if his verbal rambles didn’t take so many sharp turns and drop multiple inspired lines. A peach of an album upholding the legacy of Jonathan Richman, the FALL, ATTILA THE STOCKBROKER, the YUMMY FUR, the COUNTRY TEASERS and the totality of early ’80s UKDIY.

The Cowboy Wi-Fi on the Prairie LP

Sophomore album from these former HOMOSTUPIDS folks. I have wavered on this lot’s prior efforts but am firmly on-board here. Wi-Fi On The Prairie seems a hell of a lot more focused, which is not to say there is a lack of flailing—their (very) specific attack is just executed perfectly. Can you be blind wasted and still completely “lock in”? Every cut here points to the affirmative: all-guitar steamrolling punk, seriously powerful sounds with occasional off-rail absurdities. A tough one to shake as well, repeating spins required. One that will probably rear its head come annual best-of time, assuming any of us live that long.

The Elected Officials Death for Sale LP

Austin, Texas’s the ELECTED OFFICIALS are punk as fuck. I may not totally be into what they’re doing always musically but there’s zero doubt that this band works and plays crazy hard and is completely for real. They’re also down with all the right causes and put up their hard earned cash to prove it. As we quietly (or not so quietly) sit here mid-apocalypse, it’s ever more important to pick a side and the OFFICIALS have and they’re putting in the work globally to fight the escalating war on shit. Slap this plastic disc on and be greeted by pounding charge-yer-hawk punker splendor that would be comfortable sharing a beer with the likes of VICE SQUAD, NO THANKS, the RESTARTS or even the Austin/SF kings of politico punk MDC, who I see they’ve done a bit of work with. Their singer Sophie Ruckus (how punk is that?!) has a powerdriver of a voice that’s a cross between Wendy O, Cliff Hanger, and Kurt Brecht. The lyrics are printed much too small on this CD for my old eyes but they come through loud and clear, educating the listener on a surprisingly wide range of causes and topics. Favorites are “Battle Inside,” “Derrumbando Las Fronteras” and “Kill and Cure.” So pick this one up even if it’s just to support the good fight and remember to kill a cop or a Republican along the way.

The Real McKenzies Beer and Loathing CD

I have to confess, having grown up in Scotland, I always hated the bagpipes. Firstly, no fucker (including on one of the tracks on this new CD—their eleventh full-length in an almost 30-year run to date) can get the drone quite in tune. Secondly, like fife and drums, the bagpipes are basically used to play martial music, which is a load of bollocks an’ all. Despite that, however, I’ve always had a soft spot for the REAL MCKENZIES. They play anthemic melodic, driving punk, well, with bagpipes! At their best, they sound like the glory days of NO USE FOR A NAME and GOOD RIDDANCE, with the bagpipes largely just being part of the instrumentation. There is the occasional tired old “traditional” song, instrumentals with embarassing names like “A Widow’s Watch” and “The Seafarers Return,” and lyrically, a nod to the usual sad nationalistic/militaristic bullshit. How come it’s all about fighting for the King (i.e. being a tool of empire) or Bonnie Prince Charlie (the weirdo German prince who couldn’t speak English, let alone Gaelic, who briefly fancied himself in the interminable internecine wars of the ruling classes). Whatever happened to singing real rebel songs, about James Connolly, and Hardie & Baird. Anyways, I digress. There are a couple of folk-rock power ballads on here, which don’t do much for me, but the real gem contained herein is a dead-ringer for early BIG COUNTRY. Some of you may remember the glory of BIG COUNTRY (who came out of Scottish punk band the SKIDS in the early ’80s) and who perfected the twin guitar attack to, well, sound like bagpipes, to fantastic melodic effect. Well, the REAL MCKENZIES manage to do just that..with twin guitars and bagpipes. Fair enough.

The Sound Physical World EP reissue

Doom-and-gloom cult heroes the SOUND first introduced themselves to the world with the 1979 EP Physical World, now back in print after a good four decades. Their run of albums in the ’80s increasingly leaned into sleak, shadowy atmospherics, but the three songs on this 7″ turn the clock back to post-punk’s initial big bang, very much in line with the urgent minimalism of early WIRE and JOY DIVISION—the title of A-side “Cold Beat” is actually a very apt and succinct statement of intent, twisting some severe, punctuated slashes of guitar with frantically tense rhythms to a dramatic (but not melodramatic) effect. On the B-side, “Physical World” follows a similar trajectory, while “Unwritten Law” unwinds more slowly and deliberately, in a rough foreshadowing of some of the CHAMELEONS/ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN comparisons that would follow them as they branched out into a long-playing format starting with 1980’s Jeopardy LP. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the cold beat.

The Times Red With Purple Flashes / Biff! Bang! Pow! 7″ reissue

The 1981 debut 7″ from Ed Ball’s TELEVISION PERSONALITIES side project the TIMES, conveniently reissued for budget-minded parka fiends in 2020. Both groups shared an unabashed fixation on all things ’60s, with the preoccupations of the TIMES clearly evidenced by the Warhol-derived soup cans on the cover of this single and the fact that each of the tracks overtly reference the works of UK freakbeat legends the CREATION, whom the TVPs would in turn cover not once but twice on 1982’s They Could Have Been Bigger Than the Beatles LP. “Red with Purple Flashes” is a deliriously catchy mod-punk belter that beats the JAM at their own game, with the B-side “Biff! Bang! Pow!” playing up more of a quintessentially English swinging garage stomp that begat any number of Pebbles deep cuts, few of which were this perfectly crafted. Shamelessly derivative and all the better for it; guaranteed to fire up the scooter in your heart.

The Wound The Way of Death EP

Another killer from West Yorkshire’s Donor Records, born of the same cloth as the FRISK 12″ reviewed earlier in this issue. The WOUND are fucking filthy and they manage to harness the greatest BASTARDization of a “Misery” chorus I’ve ever encountered. This is hardcore punk, but condensed and broken down to its most disgusting bedrock elements. Damaged (the record and the descriptor) guitars dominate, the bass rumble is magnificent, and the subtlety is akin to getting repeated (unwarranted) jabs to the face while in restraints. You know that low crouch creepy crawl mosh that you just know is going to turn into a brawl when the asshole fucks up the flow in the pit…? This is that, but pressed on wax. Repeated listens only increase the intensity.

The Young Ones Cream of the Crop LP

Alas, not a posthumous release from Rik Mayall (more’s the pity!), this is instead a Dutch outfit seemingly attempting to revive the “glory days” of Oi and breathe life into the sort of dated shite beloved of the haunted ghouls still going to Rebellion Festival in 2020. It sounds like bad COCKNEY REJECTS karaoke, retreading some already very well-trodden tracks. Hoxton Tom didn’t wear trainers mate.

V/A Days of a Quiet Sun LP

Days of a Quiet Sun is a compilation of recordings made by music producer Martin Gary between 1966 and 1973. Gary was the son of a record store owner who grew up immersed in the retail side of the music business. From there, he expanded to record producer and label owner by recording bands from his hometown of Richmond, Virginia. The tracks on this compilation feature some of his earliest recordings and some are unreleased. They are surprisingly polished for a kid who was just learning the ropes, though probably a direct result of his record store experience. In the detailed liner notes, Gary recalls his processes of bringing bands he enjoyed seeing into studios in Washington, DC and Delaware due to lack of studios in Richmond. Gary would then release the records on his own labels and after getting local radio airplay, with some even becoming hits on the stations, he would bring the records to major labels trying to get the bands contracts. Though he was ultimately not successful in doing so, he was successful in his promotion of and preservation of these bands who might otherwise have been forgotten. Included here are the HAZARDS, the BARRACUDAS, KING EDWARD & HIS B.D.’S, BERNARD SMITH & JOKERS WILD, GROUP NINE, DUCK BAKER and the BOSOM BLUES BAND. Most started as teens playing at dances and frat parties. The music included is rock’n’roll, soul and blues similar to other bands at the time. The album title track by the BARRACUDAS features early use of a Moog synthesizer. Not surprisingly, the original records go for big bucks today. As a music connoisseur, I am always interested in the history of different scenes, what happened and why. Knowing next to nothing about the early Richmond music scene, I enjoy getting a sense of it through the ears of ones of its fans and participants. It is a nice collection.

 

V/A Molde Punx Go Marching Out 2xLP

Long-lost-tape-to-deluxe-vinyl reissues are about as common as overpriced novelty flexi-discs these days. My lengthy and committed romance with Norwegian punk and hardcore motivated me to aquire this one and I simply could not have been prepared for how great it is. Many of Norway’s best early punk offerings have been well documented through the Bloodstains series, Anarki & Kaos comp, all of the classic X-Port Plater releases, Tsjernobilly Boogie compilation and countless comp tapes and blogs. This collection of fourteen Molde bands from 1980-83 was allegedly limited to something like 30(!) copies, but despite what you might be thinking that should mean, the quality is fucking significant! You all know BANNLYST and hopefully ANFALL and mayyybe PSYKSIK TERROR, but not other pre-SO MUCH HATE/STENGTE DÁ˜RER bands like NEVROSE, STYGGE FÁ˜T, FORBUDT UNGDOM or SKABB. It’s really notable how great and varied in sound and approach all of these are. I can’t even pick highlights, there’s something for everyone, all youthful and full of formative punk excitement, though I must point out all members appear to be young men, not a single woman. A satisfying 12×12-inch booklet comes loaded with punk as fuck layouts for each group, complete with cute baby-punk photo layouts (including my guitar hero and absolute legend BÁ¸rre Lovik) and lyrics, really giving the proper space and document to a thriving early scene from a city less than 300 miles from the Arctic Circle. I’m experiencing immense pleasure in spotting the names of some of my favorite players in bands that were previously unable to be heard! This recommendation certainly comes from a certified nerd but I would urge you to pay the $40+ if you can.

V/A …So This Is Progress? 001: Spring 2020 flexi 7″/zine

The zine is just as much a photo essay as it is the story of the creator’s move from Oxnard to outside Columbus, followed by discovering what was happening punk-wise in Ohio, Pennsylvania, and NYC, documenting it all with disposable cameras. Whether shots of bands or friends, the euphoria of the punk show—and in particular experiencing it in a new place—is captured and conveyed in a way that made me feel the excitement vicariously (perhaps especially since gigs are on hiatus until who knows when?) The five bands on this comp—all great, scuzzy hardcore with some grind-leaning moments, all except Pittsburgh’s PEACE TALKS being from Ohio—also fit into the greater narrative of being representative of making DIY punk happen in their given cities. Even with the bar for 7″ comps being somewhere in the Earth’s mantle, this is a keeper. Just press number two to actual vinyl, please!

V/A No Banger Left Behind LP

An all-over-the-place compilation of tracks with seemingly no correlation other than the fact that they’re all culled from obscure cassette comps or demo tapes. It opens with a short interview clip with the WORST (Ohio, not New Jersey) and travels between South America and Italy for a few tracks, then on to the UK, Australia, Yugoslavia, West Germany, Scotland, and then back to the Americas. Most of the eighteen selections date between ’84-’91, and a couple as late as 2000. It plays much like a mix tape your cassette-hoarding nerd friend made, heavy on the raw Central/South American hardcore punk and UK anarcho unknowns. I don’t recognize a single band name on here. I did the Discogs investigation on each to confirm the title is half accurate; most of these bands don’t seem to have more than one or two documented comp tracks, nor any info additional info. The term “banger” is subjective, and while most of the material is pretty good I don’t know if I’d describe anything on here as such. The layout looks cool and I do think it’s an interesting project. Collectors may want to take this for a spin, but I’m not adding anything to the want list. Limited to 200.

Vaxine Leeches EP

This ones a total no-brainer. After an absolutely bulletproof demo in 2019 that I just listened to ten minutes ago, Brooklyn’s VAXINE returns to slay with their debut platter. A real fucking super group with members of PMS 84, SPETSNAZ, and SAD BOYS among zillions more of your favorite bands. You know what you’re in for with all that and the best of UK and Bristol by way of Osaka…CHAOS UK, the SWANKYS, EXPLOITED and I want to say a little classic UK SUBS. Kicks off with “Leeches” which is what I’m sure feeling right now and does not let up. Song titles like “Less Than Human,” “Never Ending Fight,’, “In Decline” and “Mundane Life” beg you to wonder if this is a cry for help or a legitimate expression of the shit we’re in?!  Plenty of vocal echo and chaotic guitar mayhem with a pounding tribal beat and Anya’s bass which just makes everything… fun! I don’t want to say you’re lame for not liking this, but you’re definitely a little less of a good time in my eyes. The world needs VAXINE now! (Yeah, I had to say it.)

Vlack Mental Diaspora 12″

VLACK plays upbeat chords with exhausted, morose, downbeat vocals. Clashing discordant guitar riff peaks surprise and bend through predictable rhythms. Harrowing vocals such as from the CULT, the END (Boston) and the bass tones clang under lost guitar reverberation. VLACK is from Spain, however songs are sung and howled in English. Parts blackened steaming cauldron and HOT WATER MUSIC optimism, flowing like ghosts over a haunting goth melancholy tempo. This is generally unsettling. It is delivered with basic indie rock post-hardcore compositions, but the dismal glimmers of death rock and doom tempo make it ultimately depressing. These are sad and sinister sonnets from only two musicians. VLACK sounds in mourning and showcase that they are completely fine with that. Six tracks of gasping poetic mathematical neo death rock with hardcore indignation coursing its veins. “Abandon to the Fire,” an instrumental, might be my favorite, acting as a nice intermission from the anguish. I assure you, this is not as depressing on the surface as I make it sound, but the almost hidden pain is what I find most impressive about the recording.