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!
Excellent LP from this London band featuring Chris Rowley of HUGGY BEAR on vocals. There is a lived-in world-weariness to this music, a pull between remaining relevant and revolutionary amid a life of overabundance, as evidenced in opening track “Relationship Studies”: “And I see everything on these streets / I suffer from too much to eat.” Mid-tempo, chilly post-punk bass lines meet thick power chords on tracks like “Liberation Tags.” Pulsing with punk energy, the song edges into heavy alt/rock like HUM, with guitars that deliver both crunching crush and beautiful chiming textures. “4:33” is another standout that gallops for the first half before spacing into a swirling psych slow-down that fades into a field recording of bustling, honking street life. Rowley’s vocals sound like an exhausted exhale of frustration that matches the lyrics and downtrodden vibes. “Art of Boxing” suggests a person fed up with the drag of modern life and its constant churning change: “These kids got no boundaries / ‘Cause their folks got no boundaries / It’s not the same around here like it used to be.” It evokes a disconnect with the kids as well as an ironic throwback to the previous generation who undoubtedly said the exact same thing. The cycle continues—youth is a thrill until it’s over and the new crop gets under your skin. This focus on aging and growing makes so much more sense to me than the wallet-chain bands who sing about skateboarding and breakups well past middle age. ADULKT LIFE is vital grown-up punk that is highly recommended.
After forty-two years stored away in the archives of a member of the band, eight extensive years of insistence, and four years of labor, Nada Nada was able to unearth this precious Brazilian new wave gem. For a bit of context, AGENTSS were a pioneering band of the country’s new wave movement, mixing elements of electronic and minimalist music. They quickly became a cult band in the city of São Paulo, bringing a huge following to wherever they played. AGENTSS was in tune with the international new wave scene and were on the same wavelength as acts like DEVO or KRAFTWERK. This compilation collects their four songs released as EPs in 1981 and 1983, plus eleven more exclusive tracks recorded around the same time. An important piece of Brazilian music.
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.
ANCIENT FILTH has been churning out top-shelf hardcore punk since 2010, and their latest entry, No More Hiding, finds them their finest form. The album’s eponymously titled opening track sets the stage well, ratcheting up the speed and intensity quickly and succinctly from the totally ripping guitar solo to the full-on hardcore assault that follows. The musicianship is freakishly tight, but doesn’t feel manufactured or inorganic. The drumming is stellar, keeping the listener on their toes with tempos changing on a dime with a commanding exactitude. Blistering guitar riffs tear through the mix and cut in with some truly unhinged leads. Everything about this record is utterly crushing. Topped off with insightful lyrics delivered with characteristically memorable vocal hooks, No More Hiding is essential listening. Hardcore rules.
The small UK town of Yeovil, Somerset was home to a fairly bustling punk scene in the late ’70s/early ’80s, the most famous exports of which were the anarcho-punk band the MOB and their DIY label All the Madmen. Teenager ANDY STRATTON (né Barker, later of NULL & VOID) also hung around that scene and ended up befriending members of the MOB. At sixteen, he got a wild hair to make a pop record after attending the 1980 Stonehenge Free Festival. So he wrote a couple of tunes, recruited MOB-ster Graham Fallows to play drums, and came out with this 7”, the third release on All the Madmen. At the time, it was pressed in relatively small numbers (maybe 1000) and has since become all but forgotten. Thankfully Sealed, the archival wing of La Vida Es Un Mus, recognized this was a record worth shining some light on and are here with a faithful recreation of that release (plus they’ve added a lyrics insert alongside an interview with ANDY). “I Don’t Know” is a super catchy DIY power pop number that sounds like a mix of Pete Shelley BUZZCOCKS and TEENAGE HEAD. The lyrics are deliriously simple, as is the guitar riff, but it’s underscored by this incredibly energetic bass line that somehow really bumps up the maturity of the songwriting. It’s a pretty incredible track. “Evil Minds” awkwardly welds verses that sound like a new wave ode to “Nights in White Satin” to hooks that sound lifted from some POINTED STICKS song. It’s a little harder to get into, but at the very least it’s interesting. Still, probably worth it for the A-side alone!
There is a dragon that I have been chasing away at since I was a wee little shithead. It’s finding a moment that gets me closer to the initial, cautious, and addictive feelings of first contact with grimy, dark hardcore. It’s fleeting, to say the least, until a band like ANTI-MACHINE comes around and dishes it. This is the band’s follow-up to their October 2021 self-titled EP, and like their first recorded offering, it destroys and brings pause. Too Many Eyes is loud, fast, and bleeding in vomit. Who the fuck are these people? The NYC five-piece shares some of the same mechanics as contemporaries 80HD and KINETIC ORBITAL STRIKE, with a feel of early BORN AGAINST. There is a place for some old fart like myself to situate themselves into this, for that I thank the band. Hail ANTI-MACHINE.
This cassette from Cintas Taciturnas is a re-release of Finnish band ASPECT NOIR’s full-length originally released as a 12″ by the band in 2021. This cassette contains all the darkwave post-punk that ASPECT NOIR epitomizes and is beautifully printed and packaged. If you like moody, gothic sounds that feel as icy as a grave, then you’ll want to check this out. This eight-song album captures melancholic emotions while maintaining a sense of dignity like a phoenix from the flames. Lina’s vocals are haunting as they sing lyrics with a clarity that makes it impossible to miss the themes. For me, “Mean Again” is a standout song, as the message is something we can all find relatable at times.
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.
Heavy-metal-infused D-beaters BARRICADE deliver a relentless beating of raw energy, staying true to the genre’s roots. Their thunderous drumming, ripping guitars, and vehement vocals create a sonic onslaught that captures the essence of D-beat. Members of FUGITIVE, ANS, and GUERRA FINAL, to name a few. Fans of fast-paced, aggressive soundscapes will find BARRICADE both nostalgic and invigorating.
I know you can’t always judge a book by its cover (or its title, for that matter), but in this instance, You Are Beautiful… But This Place Sucks, the split LP by ANARCHY FOR ASSHOLES from Oklahoma City and BEAT UP from Athens, GA, visually and sonically doesn’t do it for me. Side A features the unfortunately named ANARCHY FOR ASSHOLES, whose sound and style have an element of CRASS-influenced anarcho-punk, especially with the shared male/female vocals. Frankly, I wish they’d lean harder into it, because they completely lose me with the weird party vibe on the last two numbers. On the flipside is BEAT UP who are cleaner sonically, leaning more towards ’80s US skate punk with a vocalist who’s got a funky Jello Biafra vibe that somehow mutates into a twangy Nick Cave impression by the final track. It’s politically charged and decently executed, but overall a little generic. All said, I give this one an unenthusiastic “meh.”
BIG MESS has that hooky sing-along style that manages to melodically link the ’77 sound with Oi! while still sounding fresh. This Copenhagen band brings twelve tracks in twenty-two minutes with not a single dud, blistering relentlessly onward from the first song. This sounds like the full-length album that ONE MAN ARMY could have made right after Rumors and Headlines.
Supreme Echo rifles through the CanCon punk archives again, this time giving flowers to Montréal’s BLUE OIL, widely regarded as Quebec’s first all-female punk band. “Money,” the A-side of their 1982 7”, is the only previously released track here (B-side “Living for the Time” was skipped over), with the remaining eleven tracks drawn from abandoned studio, practice, and live recordings from the group’s original 1981–1983 phase—by the late ’80s, BLUE OIL had re-emerged with a new lineup (including the addition of some very prominent keyboards) and a much more polished, mainstream new wave sound, but the iteration of the band documented here has far more in common with under-the-radar early ’80s contemporaries like Seattle’s VISIBLE TARGETS or Portland’s NEO BOYS. Those psychic parallels are especially apparent on the great “Far Too Much” and “Sardine City,” two minimalist anthems mixing post-garage jangle, gritty pop hooks, and an energized basement punk stomp, while the shrouded vocals and moody, bass-driven rhythm of 1983’s “Stop Complaining” point to an increasing post-punk influence, sounding not dissimilar to Chicago’s DA (or taking it back a little further, a less dramatic SIOUXSIE AND THE BANSHEES). International femme-punk scholars, take heed.
Debut EP from this North Carolina trio who’ve pegged themselves as “amateur new wave,” which isn’t really the self-deprecating dig that it might seem—BONIES aren’t trying their hand at recreating slick, radio-saturated (but still punk-accepted) new wave influences, but rather the scrappier, more genuinely oddball sounds that existed further underground in the new wave era. It’s all presented through a decidedly modern lens, though: “Cake Decorator” recalls the WORLD if they’d been fixated on PYLON instead of ESSENTIAL LOGIC, loping along almost entirely on a slinky bass/drums groove and bassist Dani’s blank-emotion vocals, with sparse, needling guitar cutting in only as punctuated choruses; the tougher, echo-effected “Tango” hits a similarly tense nerve as NOTS in their post-punk/NORMAL-covering incarnation, and the B-side pairing of “Mommy” and “Belly Button” (the latter with some cheapo synth thrown in) goes a little nuevo-garage, picking up more or less where the various SUBURBAN LAWNS-idolizing bands of Lumpy Records circa 2015–2018 left off. Potent and punchy.
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.
The recipe for BURNT ENVELOPE’s I’m Immature: The Singles Vol. II goes as follows: mix equal parts STOOGES psychedelia with VELVET UNDERGROUND’s White Light/White Heat, add a heaping spoonful of early lo-fi BLACK LIPS, and top with a sprinkle of black humor, and voila, seven “singles” (a.k.a. fourteen tracks) of lo-fi slacker bedroom punk that sounds like it was a lot of fun to record. Get stoned and listen to “The Chameleon Pt 1 and 2” for a weird time.
I pretty much knew this would be a home run before I put it on. Portland’s CHERRY CHEEKS’ first LP was a juicy blast of bedroom eggy punk that was catchy as hell. Now a full band, everything that worked before functions on an even higher level. The hooks are heavy, with the synth often taking front and center. The band overall is snappy, offering a jumped-up and mechanically precise sound even as they keep things lo-fi. Then things get even more synth-heavy on Side B with cuts like “Pure Power,” with a bounce that evokes TUBEWAY ARMY with more manic, shouty vocals. It’s good to see a band tweak the formula to keep things interesting for themselves. The penultimate track “DATA” stands out in particular, with its ’80s cyberpunk intro, nimble bass line, and stabbing guitar. It’s a perfect accompaniment to a panic attack. All in all, this band started out really good and is just getting better. Keep an ear out for what comes next.
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.
Killer LP from Minneapolis punks CITRIC DUMMIES, who sound like an amphetamine-fueled MISFITS. I mean it, the singer is pretty much doing a DANZIG impersonation here. Don’t ask me how, but it works. Throughout fourteen tracks, CITRIC DUMMIES stick to their successful formula of straightforward, rabid punk with an occasional pop of color, like the saxophone on “Drugs in the Snow” and the keyboards on “My True Love is Depression” and “Doing Dope at Chucky Cheese.” Overall I recommend it, especially if you need something to play at your next kegger.
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 cassette from Paris’s COLD DECAY is metallic hardcore in the NYHC vein of MADBALL, MERAUDER, or ALL OUT WAR. They may not be MRR-realm bands, but some BOLT THROWER and SEPULTURA fans from the punk world will realize some aspects that they can maybe get down with here more than they want to admit to themselves. Good at what they do, which is in-the-pocket, groovy metalcore, if you’re into that sort of stuff.
New Iron Lung dispatch from Illinois in the form of a four-piece brimming with bratty holy terror. This appears to be the band’s debut EP, with seven tracks that encapsulate a pounding and catchy fervor through the track list. Lyrics are minimal and screamed by Sarah (no last name given) with more heart than most could muster, in a delivery reminiscent of Kirsten Patches. Start with “Confined.” Hopefully more scathing punk rock is coming soon.
Australian trio that fixates on Japcore and is led by a bassist and singer from Japan. Chaotic sounds from another era, with influence from the mid-’90s crust punk revival and Japanese death hardcore adding a metallic element. Really enjoyed the fry of the string section on this one. The guitar seems like it’s being cooked in a pan, while the recording and vocals are really good but might sound a little bit behind the instrumental mix. Suggested tracks: “Fiction” and “Your Soul” as samples of the plethora of sounds this band can manage. Great unique music for addicts of GAUZE, DEATH SIDE, SYSTEMATIC DEATH, and the like.
Budapest’s CRIPPLED FOX’s latest release is a fierce, energetic fastcore explosion. Fast, start/stop, relentless punch of shortcut hardcore tracks. A raw-quality recording that isn’t crap-sounding, but not overly produced either. No lousy parts or boring breakdowns, focusing on fast speedcore intensity at its finest moments.
Incredible album—has a classic DC vibe and sounds a lot like a more sinister FUGAZI. I’m sure they get that a lot. Lots of energy, but also some slow, low, and sludgy moments. Very cool mathy parts; I love how the drummer utilizes the hi-hat as a stopgap in between certain measures. It helps foster a strong dynamic that keeps the orderly chaos moving. The singer is a modern-day Guy Picciotto, which I’d argue is hard to pull off in earnest. It doesn’t come off as cosplay. Very authentic and raw. Over the years, the genre of post-hardcore has evolved away from its original definition, but I think this album brings the style back to its roots. Well worth a spin if you’re into stuff like QUICKSAND, RIVAL SCHOOLS, and Q AND NOT U.
Hailing from Detroit, DAY RESIDUE channels the feral sound that only the Motor City is capable of. Verging on hardcore, but full of untamed rock’n’roll energy, this cassette is a blast! Six songs that rip so hard it feels like a whirlwind. Gnarly riffs and ferocious drums run rampant through this cassette, while vocals deliver vicious personal diatribes. “Piss Paradise” is a sub-two-minute song that channels punk energy into a guitar-driven basement anthem. I fell in love with this album within the first 30 seconds, and I’m sure you will too.
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.
Reuniting members of early ’80s Spanish punk act LARSEN, DESENTERRADOS serves up two different styles on this four-song EP. You get some bouncy, low-budget power pop on the catchy “Christine” and Too Many Fights,” and some sinister and rousing street punk on “Revolución” and the closing “Siempre Lucharemos” for a cool little combination plate.
A shadow this way comes from Dublin. Bleak, apocalyptic crust with an aura of dystopian proportions, following in the footsteps of AMEBIX and MISERY. All songs were written and performed during the pandemic restrictions, really channeling the gloomy times we went through. A record suitable for the nightmare of a modern hell.
ERIK NERVOUS returns to a solo project for this interesting, self-taught Indiana DIY release that actually rips. Everything was done by ERIK NERVOUS himself, except the mastering—it’s an exquisite mix of new wave, punk rock, and synth punk that really works. Energetic with a sick punch and a very well-achieved sound, heavily recommended for synth punk lovers. Favorite tracks: “Comfortable” and “Third Layer.”
Intense garage rock rollercoaster that contains the whole discography of this chaotic yet groove-filled project. Intensity-driven screaming vocals plus strident, garage-y guitars are their formula, with very good intros to the songs. It can get repetitive, but I mean, it’s their whole works put together, and it’s an energy diffuser and a great ride altogether. Recommended for garage punks, prepare for the insane amount of 38 tracks.
The band describes themselves as “post-COVID,” but they sound almost pre-Y2K to me. Not that I’m complaining, I think many who enjoy late ’90s and early ’00s emo-ish HC will find a lot to like here. The vocals are a gurgle-y growl and the drums often leave a gap between notes, giving the songs the aforementioned expressive emo feel. FLASHES RED switches smoothly from those parts to brief but charged HC thwapping, providing many opportunities for sing-alongs and pointed fingers.
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.”
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.
It’s been a hot minute since a true blue, bona fide WTF-is-this LP came down the pike, but the virtually unknown GEE GEE DECORATOR scores top marks in that particular category. Even the story of stumbling upon a copy in the wild—which involves Newark, NJ, the Sopranos, and assorted European actors—seems like a tall tale, but the real question is: does the music deliver the cannolis? Opening up with an expletive-riddled come-on (all the songs are untitled, or maybe someone forgot to pick up the jackets from the printer some 40 years back), GEE GEE DECORATOR is like if PUSSY GALORE was more into Stax than CRAMPS; there’s even clanging metal percussion strewn about these tracks like loose railroad spikes. The GEE GEE perspective is entirely irreverent, as the band seems to sneer at anything and everything, including “musicianship,” within their purview. You can almost hear them laughing off-mic, but that doesn’t mean this album is just a one-shot joke. It does have a peculiar charm to it, and you can tell it was put together with something resembling intention. In that respect, GEE GEE DECORATOR is reminiscent of art-damaged rock savants like ROYAL TRUX. Like the SHAGGS, GEE GEE DECORATOR come off as blissfully unaware of the outside world. It sounds like they locked themselves in a moldy basement studio, gave free rein to the drummer, and had a chemical-fueled blast for 48 hours straight. We can count ourselves fortunate that a vinyl spelunker uncovered this fucked-up little slice of heaven (New Jersey). Bada bonk.
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.
Phantom has reissued the synth punk reveling Good Job, originally out on Et Mon Cul C’est Du Tofu? in 2019. This debut has its moments of quiet, slow wandering, apparent on “Hiroshima,” with mod-wheel-driven synth lines and spoken word, but moreover turns up with dance beats on the likes of “Tourists of Death,” which is catchy by the end of the first listen. These dark song subjects made me feel as if I had GYM TONIC pinned, then they slip in egg-punk tracks like “Car Sick” and “B12 Injection.” And did I mention they’re named after an ’80s French workout show? Needless to say, they’ll keep you guessing! Can’t get enough? Also out on Phantom is their new Sanitary Situations EP.
Cold war post-punk from East Berlin featuring two members who would later form the nu-metal-adjacent industrial band RAMMSTEIN in the ’90s, but don’t hold that against them! Pleasures 1985–86 cherry-picks tracks from HAPPY STRAPS’ two cassettes (1985’s What a Pleasure and 1986’s Last Pleasure), and opener “We Live in Paradise” is a bit of a stylistic outlier within the context of the rest of the collection, following a fairly basic and rudimentary first-wave punk template, although the warbling vocals and interjections of space age synth point to some weirder creative impulses clearly at work. The rest of the A-side also skims the band’s first tape, including “Railway Station,” a stuttering post-punk spy theme with co-vocalist Claudia Böhme’s delivery splitting the difference between hiccuping and deadpan, right up there with the best ’80s femme-led Euro art-punk (LILIPUT, HANS-A-PLAST, TRÜMMERFRAUEN, you name it), and “Running Away,” which recalls the dreamy, beauty-in-drone side of SST-era SONIC YOUTH (think EVOL’s “Starpower”) or the less frantic side of MISSION OF BURMA. Last Pleasure is covered on the B-side, with HAPPY STRAPS wandering down darker, unsettling goth corridors—the graveyard-dwelling atmospheric guitar, sinister bass rumble, and guitarist Christian Jaeger’s howling vocals on ”White Bird” all echo early BAUHAUS, while the gnarled, barely minute-long “Tod” (German for “death”) crawls bleary-eyed through some BAD SEEDS wreckage, and the Claudia-sung “Tape Song” plunges into the depths of cavernous bass and a death disco beat. The Tapetopia series that this LP is a part of has been bringing all sorts of gems from East Germany’s cassette underground (like, way underground) to light, and this might be one of the best installments yet.
Chaotic, lo-fi messy hardcore punk with reverb and creepy sounds. The guitars blend rusty chainsaw strings with noisy vocals and ever-ranting drums. Resemblances to early ’80s USHC mixed with chaos and chain punk sounds. Recorded to sound mixed (or actually mixed) by old tape machinery that makes it seem from another time, and not leaning too much on the haunted situation of the mansion may be a good call.
Four bong-loaders from the foggy shores of Nova Scotia. Bluesy, crunchy rockers with a generous helping of tambourine, with the stand-out track for me being the opener “Push On Through.” The EP doesn’t do a ton after that which holds on too much, and treads in murky stoner rock waters until the last cut. The EP is a bit of a different frequency for a MRR review, but slightly pleasurable nonetheless. This is the band from that aging hippie guy who owns the head shop down the street.
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.
HYGIENE and Static Shock have each been at it for fifteen years now (time flying, etc.), and this new EP serves as a three-part candle on their shared birthday cake. “15 Minute City” returns to a frequent font of HYGIENE lyrical inspiration (the mundanities of city life and labor under late-stage capitalism) by appropriating recent conspiracy theorist critiques of sustainable urban planning with tongues planted firmly in cheek, riding on a fixed-stare, Chairs Missing WIRE-like rhythm before unfolding into an undeniably melodic and slightly askew gang chorus, while “L.T.N.” is a short, sharp stop/start shock like the URINALS gone UK DIY, and the shambolic punk jangler “Petrol” takes on peak oil with customary peak sarcasm (“Man on the news said not to worry / There’s lots and lots to go around”). Ace sounds for navigating the labyrinthine despair of the daily grind.
INNER CONFLICT is back with their first LP since 2010’s Nachhause, and first release since 2018’s First They Take Manhattan Then They Take Kalk EP. This Köln, Germany-based melodic hardcore group has a lot of music in their larder, having formed in the early ’90s, yet they still present a raw, powerful sound on this recording. They don’t incorporate a double bass pedal—which I’m very happy about—and therefore stay more on the punk side of the dial, while ranging into emotive, tech-y guitar riffs and Jenny’s resonant voice carrying lovely harmonies with male bandmates. You like this type of thing or you don’t, you’ve known the band for years or are just passing by—either way, props given to a group still putting out music 30 years on. Pretty rad.
The debut release from Berlin’s INNOCENT BLISS is a sampling of hardcore punk with some traces of more post-hardcore-type sounds. Not too much grabs this reviewer’s attention on this demo, but it certainly isn’t a bad effort either. This is eleven-odd minutes of entirely serviceable hardcore—nothing more, nothing less.
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.
A re-release of their 1996 demo recording, pressed from the original masters. Classic grindcore from a time before bands started using drum triggers and studio trickery. Vocals sound authentic and real, unlike a lot of today’s grind acts who run their singer through a whole mess of effects and processing. I’m starting to come off like some bitter old man, but it’s refreshing to hear something that isn’t attempting to be a polished product. Noisy, raw, and fast as hell. Blink and it’s over, just the way it should be.
This is a deliciously maximalist approach to punk that engages and entertains from the first note. Three chords and the truth is great and all, but this scratches a wide range of itches. Sort of a less proggy descendant of CARDIACS, and even reminiscent of the cross-genre collage rock of MR. BUNGLE, especially with the group’s penchant for hooks couched in the herky-jerk and the healthy dollop of surf music woven throughout. The band is cool, confident, and has excess energy that an aging punk like me can only be envious of. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a more satisfying and boogie-inducing track as the aptly-named “Wiggler,” which rides a juicy bass line through a total funhouse of riffs and is full-to-bursting with melodic tangents. It’s got bite, but it’s also a joyful affair unlike most bands out there getting it done.
Hardcore crust out of Finland. Very thrashy at points. In fact, this feels more like a metal album than a punk one. Not that I’m complaining, I’m a big fan of this release. It was almost a little shocking to see this was recorded within the last year—it honestly feels like this was unearthed from the early ’80s. Very tight recording, and the guitars are absolute fire. Blistering fast galloping that never wavers. Fantastic stuff, and the album art is the icing on the cake. For fans of early METALLICA and ZNOWHITE.
Hailing from Atlanta via Puerto Rico, LADRONES have been consistently pumping out electrifying punk rock’n’roll since their 2019 self-titled debut on Slovenly. Following some lineup changes, the band has developed into a wild and energetic garage monster primed to lay waste to anything its path. The three cuts featured on this EP capture a raucous and rowdy vibe that can’t be manufactured. If ANGRY ANGLES had been from Atlanta or CARBONAS spent too much time in Memphis, we may have ended up with something similar to what LADRONES are up to, but they’re not quite that easy to nail down. This record hints at a powerful direction for the band. Can’t wait to see what nastiness they’ll spin up next.
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.
This split features two bands from L.A. that sound like something that would have appeared on one of those Voxx Records Battle of the Garages comps from the early ’80s. LOST CAT, a self-described “all femme fatale four-piece,” contributes a fuzz-forward ditty reminiscent of the PANDORAS. The expected ingredients are all present—pulled-apart-Velcro guitars, harmonica solo, shankin’ tambo, raspy smoker vocals, reverb on everything. The look, the sound…it’s all so well curated that it seems a little perfect. BLACK MAMBAS trade in the fuzz for a ’50s-inspired, vocal-driven rave-up. “Love Danger” is quite a catchy tune, but I fear it may suffer the same affliction as the LOST CAT track of being too on-the-nose.
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).
Great split between two grindcore bands from the West Coast. Both sound pretty similar, but MERKED has real drums and KAGENEKO is a classic cybergrind band with the drum machine playing impossibly fast beats. Reminds of something you’d find in some random distro in the early ’00s. Nothing groundbreaking here, but it’s fun as hell.
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.
Collecting material from the band’s two previously released cassettes, the new 12” from MONEY features some of the most blatant cocainery I’ve seen on a sleeve since the first GANG GREEN EP. Lo and behold, behind the geeked-out demon on the cover lies a fittingly fast and gnarly eight-track attack. It’s a chaotic sound of blackened metal punk, loaded with distortion, chainsaw guitars, wailing leads, and the singer’s cracked growls and bellows. A solid documentation of this nasty Texas hardcore band, the record is also offered in a limited edition on powder white vinyl, because of course it is.
After a blazing demo (that this reviewer actually had the pleasure of releasing) last year, Leeds-based Harry Townend returns with more from his solo endeavor MOTIVE. It rages even harder than the demo with its five tracks of twisted D-beat mayhem, taking the best aspects from UK and Scandinavian D-beat and molding them together in a frenzied haze. This record is made all the more impressive when you learn Townend was a mere seventeen years old at the time of this record’s writing and recording. Fans of VARUKERS, ANTI-CIMEX, and the like will get a massive kick out of this barnburner.
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.
You very well might be familiar with the first half of this release, a classic slice of 2018 gonzo bedroom punk that came up around when you couldn’t turn a corner without bashing your beak on syncopated smart/smart-ass takes on what a lot of people unfairly paint into a corner as DEVO-worship. Now you can listen to it on vinyl! This is a decisively nasty, murky version of that sound, and it gets even toothier and more gnarly with the second half—a collection of new tunes post-2018 released for the first time. Tracks like “Sandbagging (My Way Through Life)” are blown-out with almost everything in the red. The vocal performances are unhinged and stab at the listener as they devolve into wordless refrains, yelps, and howls. But it still keeps the listener locked into its singular world of madness that continues on into the following cut, “Clockwork,” which almost hits like a no-fi MÖTÖRHEAD and then lands a churning groove all under a minute-thirty. If you’re a fan of this sort of thing, you’ll be in heaven. And you should be, because you’ve been very good.
Right out of the gate, I have to say that I would never have imagined that I’d find myself reviewing a record for MRR that features Mick Jagger on one of the tracks. “Neon” Leon Matthews is one of the true unsung heroes of NYC punk, and his story is truly the stuff of legends. Matthews’ was shredding with members of PURE HELL in Philadelphia in the early ’70s, before relocating to the fabled Chelsea Hotel at the urging of Johnny Thunders. It has been asserted that Matthews was the last person to see Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen together prior to her death. For more info on his remarkable life, check out Neon Leon Fast Track to Hell, his autobiography. Back to the matter at hand, Hozac has compiled all of NEON LEON’s singles from the late ’70s to the mid-’80s. The eight tracks span a range of sounds, from revved-up NEW YORK DOLLS-esque glam, to synth-tastic new wave, and a straight-up killer rendition of “Heart of Stone,” with none other than Mick Jagger contributing backups. It’s a wild ride! The opening cut “Rock’n Roll is Alive” is worth the price of entry on its own, with a phaser-laden drum intro (à la DEAD BOYS), unhinged guitars, and chorus reminding us that “rock’n’roll is alive in New York City!” From what I hear, NEON LEON is based in Germany and still performing. Killer! Snatching this up is a total no-brainer for fans of DEAD BOYS, WAYNE/JAYNE COUNTY, PAGANS, NEW YORK DOLLS, etc. NEON LEON rules!
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.
Fresh Hamburg synth punk project that sure knows how to create an atmosphere with their synth’s dark and cold tweaks. Fast-paced cadences, some tasty riffs, and super-reverbed frantic vocals. Interesting dark and blunt interlude sections are throughout the album, and though the songs may be a bit repetitive in tempo, they compensate with the work on the synth and vocals. Reminded me of DESBORDE in some of the intros between the synth and the drums, and then the whole band comes in, like in “Where Sins Bloom” and “Something We Cannot See.” Recommended for synth punk maniacs.
The internet says that listening to NUKELICKERS may severely damage one’s auditory receptors, but as usual, the internet tends to blow things out of proportion—if you are a real punk, that should not scare or inconvenience you in the least, more so if you chose to listen to the band knowing full well what you were in for. They’re called NUKELICKERS for a reason, it’s like SHITLICKERS going atomic. NUKELICKERS is truly the death of music, I guess in a good way. I could not stand more than eight minutes of the band, and that would already be considered a prolonged listen, but the three-and-a-half minutes of noise on the first side of the split EP feels exhilarating and liberating after a day at work doing as little as possible. This is actually a Berlin-based solo project aimed at destroying preconceived views of what music is supposed to be like. The drums are far too loud, with the crash cymbal being the real star of the show, the guitar is distorted to the max, and the bass sounds like a drunk plane. There is an element of crude, primal Swedish mangel like SHITLICKERS, obviously, but it goes further (or deeper?), and is certainly sweet on old school noisecore like ASYLUM, BIGADA DO ODIO, or RAPT. Strangely hypnotic. On the other side, BIPOLAR is a band from Greenland. Yes, Greenland. Etah City to be accurate. I don’t think I even knew of a punk band there before BIPOLAR. That’s what makes international punk magical, so magical in fact that BIPOLAR happens to worship at the international church of DISCHARGE like myself. With a font copying DISASTER’s, you already know if you are going to like the band’s four songs. Besides the Brits, DISCLOSE appears to be a solid point of reference, and I am reminded of some ’90s Swedish bands like HARASS or DISHONEST. The music sounds a little sloppy at times, which is fine for the style and confers a proper punk feel. They are not the best at this brand of distorted, orthodox D-beat, but they are certainly good enough for me. This is D-beat for the D-beaten. BIPOLAR is a pretty prolific bunch, and there are more recordings on their Bandcamp if you think you are DIS enough. This modest EP reeks of the true DIY punk spirit, it is a short run so don’t sleep on it if you are a die-hard.
This full-length is the perfect balance of post-punk and post-hardcore. Angular guitar work that sounds like it could easily be from a WIRE recording, combined with the song structures of FUGAZI. Elements of shoegaze and jazz filter through occasionally, allowing for shifts in tempo and weight. “Demonize” drifts from angst-driven post-hardcore to gloomy post-punk and back again in short order. It’s these interesting and imperceptibly smooth shifts that make this album worth listening to—a song evolves in the time of a single snare hit.
OPTIC SINK conjures memories of the minimalist electronic delivery of SUICIDE or the art-punk vibe of CRASH COURSE IN SCIENCE. “A Silver Key Can Open an Iron Lock, Somewhere” is a cover of Switzerland’s LILIPUT, and connects OPTIC SINK’s sound to the icy pop of Northern Europe. There are elements of austere post-punk which draw parallels to bands like DELTA 5. While most bands are busy attempting to develop an overwhelmingly full sound, OPTIC SINK takes the opposite course and leaves vast expanses of audible space. Pop delivery is tempered with frosty dissociation, all while synthesized noises develop fresh euphonious environments.
Chicago art-punk band OVEF OW has been making noise for nearly a decade, and this recent release finds the group using their hallmark sound to create a new wave opera of sorts. Songs are creative representations of the reality of modern life as viewed through the lens of artsy detachment. Sounds that are reminiscent of riot grrrl bands twist together with late new wave to form a dance-worthy soundtrack. Music that creates a party-like atmosphere while lyrically dissecting society through a stream of consciousness is the hallmark of this album.
At this point, I feel like everyone should know about the phenomena of PERSONAL AND THE PIZZAS. How a band from New Jersey decided to take the RAMONES and turn them into a band that mostly sings about pizza is both disturbing and genius. I’m not sure it really needs to be reviewed. The thing sort of speaks for itself. I will say that it is well-done. I guess that’s a detail worth talking about.
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.
I bet you had a band in high school. I didn’t. I just abused an electric guitar while the four-track was rolling, discovering a love of noise coupled with happy accidents. But what if you had three friends that were cool and inspiring and intent on making a mark beyond the confines of your educational prison? Even then, you probably wouldn’t have slayed as hard as this group of Washington, DC teenragers did for one brief year in the early ’90s. Inspired by previous generations of DC punk, PITCHMAN clawed their way into the good graces of the egalitarian local scene and ended up playing with a cavalcade of older underground lifers like they were born to it. Now, thirty years later, you can hear what “the sound of young America” was all about. And it’s shockingly sophisticated! These kids weren’t banging out cheesy moshcore or four-on-the-floor cliches, they were learning in real time how to balance order and chaos, how to build up tension and hold fast until the release comes like a cleansing wave. No doubt inspired by producer Chris Thomson’s CIRCUS LUPUS, PITCHMAN unleashed ferocious punk that could be pigeonholed by a peabrain as “post-hardcore,” except there’s far too much arch adolescent sneering on display for such a humorless descriptor. The bruising “Standoff on the Top Stair” should be the fight song for every Final Girl, as Drée Thibert’s defiant pose is by turns inviting and threatening. Is it actually a song about being grounded? If only we could all transform our mundane experiences into such thrilling shapes. “Dead Girls” is a whirlwind of sardonic fury culminating in something like a manifesto—“It’s a natural disaster / Bite the adolescent fever.” “Route Thirteen” is a poison pen letter addressed to a partner-in-crime who has disappointed Thibert to such a degree that she is going to “meet you at the corner / and take you out with a punch,” ultimately concluding that “You’re just a crash landing.” What do the kids say now? I feel seen.
This Swedish band from the late ’80s played fast metal hardcore like ONSLAUGHT or BLACK UNIFORMS, mixed with BLACK SABBATH vocals and paces. This is great, and the production is excellent. Bouncy punk like something off UK/DK, but clearly picking up on some CELTIC FROST attitude. There are even hints of GISM echoes and weirdness. This is like a 4:00 am album and no one is going home or to sleep, if that makes any sense. Also would be good if you are in a bad or sad mood. No-fucks-given Swedish punk rock. With tracks like “Honeymoon with Satan” and “Daily Depression,” you can’t go wrong here.
This is catchy enough that you almost want to call it power pop, but it’s got a lot of heavy guitar work that makes you want to say glam. It’s also very much just straightforward punk. Mid-tempo and steady, it keeps your head bouncing. I like it, but do find the recording a little fuzzy for my liking. And I don’t mind some lead guitar, but I do feel like it’s the kind of thing that needs to be controlled. On a lot of these tracks, they’re not exhibiting that control. And you know I always love backing vocals. Lots of that here. Good stuff when you take that all into account.
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.
Energetic synth punk with a progressive garage vibe from Germany, exuding histrionic vocals and a classic garage-y guitar sound that I really dig. Sufficiently soft synths that work great with the string section, where the garage vibes truly flourish. Suggested track: “Bullenschwein.” A good merging of new wave sounds and a less gloomy than usual type of German post-punk closer to rock.
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.
As we move further and further into a digital music world, there’s something very cool to me that cassettes remain a thing. There’s also something somewhat comical about listening to a tape on Bandcamp. Anyway, five cuts here. There was a time when some people might have called this hardcore. Not anymore. It can be faster paced at times, but it’s got a quirky pop thing about it. While it may be difficult to label, it’s not difficult to like. It’s quirky and catchy and very much straightforward. I like that. A lot.
Philly’s QUARANTINE is back and, damn, if they didn’t let up or run out of steam doing the same ultra-basic NEGATIVE APPROACH meets YDI meets MACHINE GUN one-two-one-two USHC formula. They add just enough variety with songs like “Voiceless Survival” to avoid any generic tags. My favorite is still their demo tape which emerged in actual quarantine times, but this record is fierce and short just like a hardcore record should be. “Widespread Terror” is tops. See them live. You won’t regret it.
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.
Debut LP from Portland, Oregon’s RAILING, with a no wave take on grunge. While this hangs on the mothball tailcoats of regional grunge forbearers, it does attempt to create a unique, spacious sound. A lot of these songs start slow with droning, repetitive guitar riffs (that I think could be battered in a little more sludge), oddly bouncy drums, and a fierce female vocalist (who kind of saves the whole wandering ensemble). Midway through most tracks, the tempo ramps up, gets snotty, only to end right when you’re nodding along. I must say, I’m left wanting a little more. A touch faster? More gut to the guitars? But you didn’t ask me, and who the fuck am I? The lyrics are affirming, genuine, and writhe under society’s general control, as in “I’m sick of keeping up / Just to stay down” from “Now.” “Radio” kicks along consistently at a mid-tempo pace and is fairly catchy, so there’s some gems within. Not for me this time through, but I’d try out their next take.
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.
REJECTORS was a seminal hardcore band from Seattle that was active from 1981 to 1986. Originally released by Fartz Records in 1982, Thoughts of War is now re-released and remastered by No Plan Records. Thrashy in the vein of West Coast hardcore, complete with angsty, snotty vocals. The 7″ comes with the original 7″ artwork and insert, plus a sticker! A guaranteed mosh record.
Really great split between two bands out of California, albeit in different directions. Makes sense, as both of these groups sound like they’ve come straight from the heyday of Gilman. ROTE brings us some classic melodic hardcore while teetering on the edge of crust. They remind me a bit of LEFTÖVER CRACK with less ska and better vocals. Very authentic, and a lot of fun. If I can be honest, I didn’t expect much from a band called the LOSERS in this day and age, especially since they included a cover of “Rockin’ in the Free World.” But my mind was quickly changed during their first track “The Big Question,” owing to their very charismatic frontman and blistering guitar leads. Classic punk rock right here with a bit of an Oi! tinge. Hey, even the NEIL YOUNG tribute is pretty cool!
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.
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.
After last year’s hit full-length, the new EP from Drew Owen (a.k.a. SICK THOUGHTS) feels like a victory lap, showcasing four strong tunes from a guy who’s been on a snowballing creative roll for a while now. Gracing the cover for the second consecutive release, this time greeting us with a boozy lounge look and a promising wink, he starts this one off by revealing a raging theme for this decade-plus-old project in “Sick Thoughts.” Then we lean back and loosen up a bit with the ’70s switchblade and bandana vibes of the rockin’ “I’m a Hellraiser.” The pace picks up with “Schoolgirls in Chains,” a jittery and jacked-up garage number that almost sounds like it could have been an outtake from JAY REATARD’s Blood Visions LP. And then, just before he leaves the saloon doors swinging behind him, he kicks out the sickeningly sweet “My Heart is Breaking Over You,” an epic, killer, and uncharacteristic power pop ballad that he pulls off with incredible panache. My favorite track on the album, its crooning and keyboards on the outro are especially bonkers. Cheers to another solid ripper, Drew, and maybe just take it easy on those olives a little bit.
Here’s an interesting slice of rock’n’roll history, mined from the vault of a largely overlooked band hailing from Richmond, Virginia circa 1979 (hence the title). The story of SINGLE BULLET THEORY is one of near misses and many woes, exemplifying a struggle that I imagine was all too common in the world of late ’70s rock music—trying to forge a path in the music biz while holding down a day job, being on the cusp of breaking through without ever really breaking through. Despite supporting the PRETENDERS on multiple tours, and opening for the RAMONES, TALKING HEADS, and PATTI SMITH, things never quite fell into place for SINGLE BULLET THEORY. Their sole full-length from 1982 didn’t seem to capture the apparent energy of their live performances, and from what I’ve read, the band was often pulled in opposing directions by various producers and record execs trying to wring some cash out of their sound. The four songs here may well be the best representation of the band to find its way onto vinyl, 44 years later. These tunes would be right at home on one of the Teenage Treats comps, blending power pop, garage, and new wave with some impressive musical chops. Hints of the RAMONES, the PLIMSOULS, and the RASPBERRIES shine through and there’s just enough grit in the production to retain their own character in spite of the aging patina of corporate monkeying from yesteryear.
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.
I’m not going to beat around the bush, I love this album. SQUELETTE’s Fin de Partie has so much nuance and substance; it’s dripping with style and replay value. The pleasantly soft and jangly instrumental “Nouveau Depart” kicks things off, and while the comparison was hard to pin down at first, I realized it reminded me of the SMITHS, and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible. SQUELETTE masterfully weaves acoustic shimmering into their traditional French Oi! style, shown beautifully on tracks “Dans L’Instant“ and “Ronde De Nuit.” Peppered throughout, you’ll also find bits of saxophone and cold synths, both in line with the sort of thing you’d find on ’80s Chaos en France comps. It’s no surprise that it was mixed by Maxime of Chateau Vergogne Studio, who seems to have the Midas touch when it comes to modern Oi! albums. Anyways, bravo SQUELETTE, this shit is magical. For fans of SYNDROME 81 and CAMERA SILENS.
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.
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.
Subspace, the ideal place to be in a BDSM scene where one loses touch with reality, is a tough band name to live up to. Or maybe they’re just mathematicians gone punk? Either way, SUB SPACE (the band) is on fire here, delivering six tracks of hardcore with tinges of garage and a lot of beefy heavy metal guitar. You get songs sung in both English and Spanish, which gives this a little rawer extra punch. They remind me of a heavier CRIMEN at times, and “Redemption” is hands-down my favorite here. I look forward to a sweaty, disorientating live show soon to put me in that special place. Thanks.
Chicago’s SUBLIMINAL EXCESS finally follow up their raging 2020 demo tape with Witness, and it goes just as hard. Four tracks of uncompromising hardcore brutality—fast speed and aggression mixed with hard and heavy grooves à la BREAKDOWN. This shit gets me pumped, I get a massive kick out of it. When the four tracks are up, they leave you wanting more but, as Witness proves, good things come to those who wait. Highly recommended.
Vinyl issue of Atlanta garage rockers’ debut album from 1992. Classic garage that has more in common with the SONICS or even CARL PERKINS than it does with their contemporaries like NEW BOMB TURKS or DEAD MOON. These sixteen tracks are built around clean strummed guitars with surfy leads and ’50s-style affected rockabilly vocals. If it weren’t for songs about Charles Manson (“I’m Charly, I’m Jesus”) and heroin (“Heron Addict’s Beach Party”), I would have dated this as a much earlier release. The songs are all competently performed—twangy leads and yelpy crooning—and are recommended if you are a rock’n’roll classicist. There’s even a surfy, reverbed instrumental (“Red Roses”) that would fit nicely next to LINK WRAY on an early rock compilation. I like a little more grit to my garage, but this is well-done if the older old school is your jam.
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.
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.
Juvenile, scathingly fun pop punk out of Sacto that sounds influenced by anything in Dr. Frank’s back catalog from mid-career MR. T. EXPERIENCE circa Love is Dead. Lyrically, they are pulling from Cheshire Cat-era BLINK-182, or a more mature Buddha. Musically, it’s very adept and well-executed in that mid-tempo punk style of the PARASITES or SCREECHING WEASEL.
The guitars on “This Close to Vertigo” are catchy in a conventional, RAMONES-worship way. They got stuck in my head easily. I mean, how is “Go Nowhere Kids” not already a song? But why does the band keep dragging songs past the two-minute mark? I’m a big believer that a good riff speaks for itself. Excessive repetition can drain punk songs of the momentum they need. I get it, I’ve been in bands and sympathize with wanting to show off a good tune. The DOWNSTROKES should trust listeners to enjoy these tunes on their own merits without pushing a second or third helping.
Straightforward NYHC from alums of MADBALL, SHEER TERROR, and NEGLECT. The GREAT LIE’s music more or less reflects their past projects, so it’s safe to say you know what you’re going to get. Unfortunately, things occasionally veer into nu-metal territory, which I found off-putting. Maybe I’m just not their target demographic, but overall this one didn’t do much for me.
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.
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.
Bluesy psych punk that reeks of cigarette smoke and late-night dive stumbles. Evoking legends like the BIRTHDAY PARTY and LAUGHING HYENAS, the ROUGH TOUCH plays simple blues figures that grow into psycho-strummed beasts, especially when accompanied with the dialed-in howling vocals. Think Jon Spencer without the schtick. “Death of a Preacher” has a dragging, noirish feel to it, and “Pigeon Stain” stomps with the urgency of classic garage punk, complete with effective backing vocals. Strong release if dirty, punk-adjacent bar rock is your sound of choice.
Wow. I’m thirty seconds in and I am digging this thing. It’s got a little swampy thing going on, but there’s also some slick guitar work that’s almost surfy that has me doing a funny little shimmy dance. It’s mid-tempo and catchy as all hell. At times, it gets a little eerie and spooky. Other times, it gets a little heavier. Then it gets more straightforward. This is some good shit right here.
This is a really nice vinyl release of this very early Polish post-punk band’s 1980 radio session, plus an acoustic bonus track. It looks like TILT is considered one of the earliest punk bands in Poland, having started in 1979, but this is definitely more new wave/post-punk than peers like DEZERTER. They definitely were right there with cool bands of the day like GANG OF FOUR and WIRE, making me imagine punks tuning in to barely audible BBC radio shows or pirated cassettes floating around. Warsaw Pact has done us all a big favor issuing such an eye-opening historical document. Well worth whatever you have to pay to pick up a copy.
TOZCOS’ latest LP Infernal boldly explores themes of self-perception and the experience of having immigrant backgrounds, particularly as descendants of Mexican immigrants in the US. The punk energy infused with poignant lyrics creates a compelling narrative that reflects the struggles, resilience, and identity of those navigating life in a new cultural landscape. A mixture of the Orange County sound (where the band is from) like ADOLESCENTS and T.S.O.L., and Spanish-speaking punk like ESKORBUTO. TOZCOS’ debut Sueños Deceptivos was an amazing punk record, but Infernal leaps further up the ladder. Infernal not only serves as a musical testament to the punk ethos, but also as a socio-cultural commentary.
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.”
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.
I could bet my shirt that this LP will be featured on a lot of top ten lists this year. This album has everything. It looks absolutely brilliant with its Burning Spirits-inspired cover and a clear nod to some classic Japanese hardcore compilations; it has a great title; it has a cracking lineup with four popular hardcore bands. On paper this is a sure win, the kind of record that might become a classic, assuming the quality reaches the inevitably high expectations. When you buy a sixteen-song album with four songs each by DESTRUCT, SCARECROW, DISSEKERAD, and RAT CAGE, you are entitled, as a spoiled materialist, to expect the best of raw hardcore, a “special record.’’ Is it as good as it should be then? I suppose so. It is as good as I expected, but it is not better than I expected and, clearly, such a record can be expected to be better than expected. Do you know what I mean? Alright, let’s start with DESTRUCT, possibly one of the best bands in the US right now. This Richmond band has the craziest hardcore punk drummer around—the man is an octopus and punishes the listener with a pure and relentless D-beat attack seasoned with insane drum rolls, conferring the songs extra energy and a vibe of madness unleashed. I am sure they must tie the bastard to his bed at night so that he doesn’t hit things in his sleep. The music is close to what FRAMTID offers in terms of sheer intensity and anger (and drumming), which is no small compliment. The vocals and many anthemic choruses and riffs point to more traditional Japanese hardcore like BASTARD (the most obvious and redundant comparison), and the blend is brutal and compelling. DESTRUCT is a tough act to follow, and Raleigh’s SCARECROW does their best to keep the aggression level high. They are one of the most solid TOTALITÄR-influenced bands around (and there are many of those), and I like the fact that they don’t try to go for the rocking side of the genre but keep the käng raw, direct, and angry, like INFERNÖH used to do, but with a more blown-out tone (almost crasher hardcore), more so than on the previous EP and with the great pissed female vocals more to the front. On the other side, actual Swedish band DISSEKERAD shoots first and unsurprisingly sounds just like themselves. Classic käng done right with craftsmanship and (a lot of) experience. TOTALITÄR meets NO SECURITY. A walk in the park, not an adventurous one, but one you’d be ready to take every weekend. Finally, RAT CAGE from sunny Sheffield closes the show and offers four songs of…TOTALITÄR-inspired hardcore punk. Fuck me if I saw that coming. They are arguably the hottest band in the genre right now and, contrary to SCARECROW or DISSEKERAD, RAT CAGE goes right for the rocking side of the käng school with nods to SKITKIDS or UNCURBED. It’s a bit much for me at times, but in terms of energy and anthemic songwriting, they certainly deliver, and they do show a bit of variety in these four songs, the last one sounding almost like a pogo punk number, like the CASUALTIES suddenly converting to käng hardcore. It is a strong album, and I believe the format serves the songs well and displays cohesion and coherence between the bands. Let’s just say that it makes sense. Arguably too much TOTALITÄR worship going on, but then that’s what punks crave, I suppose.
Alright, this is an interesting one, a CD compilation with five Japanese hardcore punk bands I have never heard of. The bands are all from Kyushu Island so that the project is regional, and area-based compilations are often the best way to discover current local scenes. Overall, all the bands’ recordings display that distinct spontaneousness and urgent sound that characterized the traditional Japanese hardcore sound that ruled the country between the late ’80s and the mid-’90s (like LIPCREAM, NIGHTMARE, OUTO, and the like), and still does. The winner of Downright Vulgarities appears to be M.V.11 (meaning MAXIMUM LEVEL 11, that did crack me up) because they are the band that displayed the highest level of energy, the most effective and epic choruses, and that triumphant vibe that goes hand-in-hand with the genre. Despite not being comprehensively cognisant of that type of hardcore (B2 level I reckon, one cannot excel at everything), I suppose the listener is bound to expect it to have that fist-pumping vibe, and a lot of songs on this CD do. A special mention also goes to ABSURDITIES with their super snotty punk vocals (almost SWANKYS-like) and their intense speed. I still see Downright Vulgarities as an album primarily aimed at the biggest fans of traditional Japanese hardcore who want to keep up with where the genre is at a given point in time and in a specific location. If you are just a casual, albeit rather educated listener, eighteen songs might be a bit much for you.
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.
There are bands that you feel you have known forever—recent ones, new ones even—because you are already so familiar with what you know they are going to offer, familiar with the anticipation and the need, with the pleasure you expect them to, quite rightfully, provide the masses (by which I mean people who have once considered calling their first-born Käng). VERDICT is such a band. It has members of MEANWHILE, NO SECURITY, WARCOLLAPSE, 3-WAY CUM, TOTALITÄR, and too many other bands, and even though I have never actually met any of them, I still have had more interactions with them through (over)playing and rocking to their records than I have had with some members of my family, which, to be honest, is definitely for the best. VERDICT is a rather new (but experienced in the things of the D) käng hardcore band, and they know exactly what they are doing and how to do it. Had they produced something different, that would have completely taken me aback—something horrendous like ska-punk would have made so little sense that I would have had to quit punk altogether. Alright, what about The Rat Race, then. This is the follow-up to last year’s Time to Resign, and this one has even more punch, fury, and pummeling power than its predecessor. Unoriginal, in a good way, and thoroughly checking all the correct boxes: the drumming is pure and relentless, the riffs’ efficiency is religiously executed in a “Scandicore 101” way, the vocals are angry, direct, and raspy. Think a joyous orgy between NO SECURITY, UNCURBED, and TOTALITÄR. This is the kind of record that makes the world a better place to rock. Thank you Phobia Records. Käng up your life.
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!
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.
I love it when BOLT THROWER gets worshiped by punks, because, in essence, BOLT THROWER was a punk band that played death metal! Crushing death metal with a clear vibe of Realm of Chaos-era BOLT THROWER, mixed with apocalyptic crust like classic AXEGRINDER and DEVIATED INSTINCT. The thing with the so-called “stenchcore” is that it has all been done countless times before, but Montreal’s WARKRUSHER really knows how to pay a proper homage to the war masters. From the logo, the cover, the songs, and overall vibe, they nail the fuck out of it. Enter the realm (of chaos) of Armistice at your peril. Crussssssst!
Ten-song cassette of lo-fi, minimalist, twangy, guitar-driven, psych-adjacent garage rock. It’s fun and catchy and toe-tapping, but I wouldn’t call it groundbreaking. Almost sounds kinda like a budget, less memorable DEAD MOON. If you’re into garage-heavy simplistic punk or modern pop-psych stuff like OH SEES, you’ll probably dig this. The last song “Prince of Hell” has got to be one of the strangest compositions I’ve heard in a while. It sounds like a damn MEAT LOAF song, if Mr. LOAF was a member of SUICIDE.
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.
Split between two bands from Osnabrück, Germany. VICIO plays melodic hardcore somewhere between vintage BAD RELIGION and Midwest classics like DIE KREUZEN. The clear winner is “Hass,” with its shouted vocals and a SLAYER-esque mini-riff in the chorus that made my hand involuntarily grip the invisible orange. “Future is Now” somehow meshes system-smashing lyrics and the refrain from NEIL YOUNG’s “Heart of Gold,” complete with backing vocals. And “Eat the Rich” is a rowdy singalong that repeats “You are rich / We are poor / We will eat you, sure.” WIRKSTOFF P sounds remarkably similar and seems to share a vocalist with VICIO. Their side is a touch more melodic, featuring some sung vocals that turn the dial more to skate punk. “Venner Feengesänge und Elfentanz” is a mid-tempo jam with heart-tugging minor chord melodies that wouldn’t be out of place on one of those ’90s Epitaph comps. Check it out If you ever had a cargo shorts era.
Dark and dreary from this summer, PARANOID returned with a powerhouse of chamber-echoing Swedish thrash metal, combined with their signature D-beat attack. Ten tracks of ’80s-infused metallic riffs under savage, raspy vocals and dense, punctuated percussion. Mid-paced and catchy, PARANOID is somewhere between CRUCIFIX and NIHILIST. I’m a big fan of DEATH BREATH and BASTARD PRIEST, and PARANOID always delivers, but even more punk. Actually, this might be my favorite recording from them (I have their covers cassette Out Raising Hell LP, and that session’s outtakes LP). It’s clear, harsh, and just moves like a war bison. A tornado of punk metal thrash and a dash of hardcore; breakdowns, anxiety, death, and destruction. If PARANOID has not let you down in the past, this is sure to hit hard as hell.
