ALVILDA plays garage rock wonderfully. ’60s girl group vocal harmonies backed by a tough punk-y guitar sound with pop flourishes. The songs are so catchy, you start to sing along on the first listen. The French accents lend an extra air of coolness. Great stuff.
Mellow and jamming are two words I never want associated with any music I listen to. Yet, they are the two that immediately pop into my head while listening to BIKES latest self-titled album. Still, I like it. It’s laid back and nonchalant, but rocking. It makes no sense. BIKES are garage rock moderne with no pretension and some catchy riffs. It’s a great album.
As soon as this started, Burger Records odors took over all of my senses. I was shocked that this wasn’t a new release from that label just due to the poppy, bubblegum garage vibrations being excreted by my speaker. Then I read that the cassette release will be coming out there, and all made sense in the world. This is four dudes from Germany who love them some garage pop saturated with oooooohs, ahhhhhhs, and jingly-jangly guitars. “Age of Coming” is a good pick if you want to anticipate a live sing-along, and “Pickle-Brine Chicken” is a real danceable jam about the culinary arts. These dudes have not reinvented any wheels, but this record is seeping with love of the genre.
Excellent escapist power pop in the wistful spirit of PAUL COLLINS. Like a mid-tempo FLAMIN’ GROOVIES, their Bay Area antecedent, writing songs about hanging out with friends, falling through love, summertime on the West Coast, and an innocence that evokes earlier long-gone times. Beautifully crafted tunes with a sound like it could have come from ’70s power pop, ’80s suburban rock, or the Lookout! roster from the ’90s. Moog leads and guitar melodies with boy/girl vocals telling tales of innocent worries that make you want to put on your Radio Shack headphones and curl up in the bean bag chair and forget it’s 2021. Plus, they drop an excellent despondent country breakdown song in there with “Washoe County.”
Jingly jangly piano! Jingly jangly guitar! Jingly jangly trumpet and sax! This is some sharp and full-bodied rock and/or roll from Montreal, which seems to have a never-ending supply of great art seeping out from it. This is the kind of rock that you may initially be struck with the inclination to say “Hey! They’re ripping off…” and then realize you can’t actually pick the band. It sounds familiar, but that’s because this collection of musicians is just that good. There’s some glam, some garage, some power pop, and a whole lot of frantic energy. The first line of the album is “Here I am,” and from that point on, you’ll feel like you’re on a musical journey with a very showy guide. Check out “Streets of Doom,” for a foot-tappin’, booty shakin’ sampler of the glory.
ALEX CUERVO’s “Everybody Disappear” is one of my favorite songs of all time. Since I have listened to it innumerable times, it was odd to hear it starting off this album. Not that it is a surprise since CUERVO is in EERIE FAMILY along with Alyse Mervosh—both also of the HEX DISPENSERS. This version of the song is different from the original, but a great song is great in any incarnation. It’s moody and slow, but unlike the other songs on this LP has an upbeat lyrical tone. The label calls EERIE FAMILY “gloom pop” which sounds just about right. The music brings me back to the late ’80s when the English goth rock bands decided they wanted to be cowboys. It’s keyboards and drums with a sparse, expansive sound. The vocals are lethargic and sullen. Perfect for a rainy, chilly winter day spent brooding in the house. Great record.
FRUIT TONES have the ’60s-inspired garage revival sound completely nailed down. From the jangle and chime of their lo-fi guitars, to the Jagger-on-benzos vocal delivery, these Manchester (UK) freaks deliver just the right blend of charm and sleaze to make things interesting. There’s a touch of early BLACK LIPS and a hint of REIGNING SOUND lurking beneath the paisley-patterned façade, but FRUIT TONES stick mostly to their roots. This album fits into the Alien Snatch catalog like Lux Interior fit into a pair of sweaty leather pants…exquisitely.
Do you guys remember the ’90s? Super slick and glossy indie rock from the WEEZER/FANCLUB-esque seam was mined to great effect by TONY MOLINA, but in the case of Denmark’s GLOW KIT (overblown guitars aside) any hint of an edge has been burnished away in the massive production. The best pop is pop almost by accident; the execution of this album smacks of cynical intent.
The spacey orange and purple cover art tells me this is headed into the land of psychedelia. And the first cut confirms this. But wait, as I look more closely, I see words like “Moog” and “synthesizer” and, god forbid, “various software instruments.” This isn’t psychedelia at all; it’s new wave. And not just any kind of new wave, it’s that first-wave stuff like BAUHAUS, or ULTRAVOX or ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN. It’s mid-tempo and moody and I am really digging it.
Gothic, dark garage rock by a three-piece from Berlin. Hall sounds as if BAUHAUS and the ORWELLS had a baby; they utilize a variety of tempos, mostly midrange, in combination with haunting vocals. The instrumentals didn’t “wow” me, as they mostly seemed to be in support of the vocals rather than standing on their own, and some of the songs seemed a bit repetitive in terms of melody. However, the songs overall are all very catchy and slightly off-putting, in a great way. The standout track on this album to me is “Last Days of Youth,” as it has a stronger presence than some of the other songs and delves into a slightly heavier vibe.
Twin Brothers Christian and Phillip Paul (the latter of whom also goes by “Beat-it” for reasons that elude me) have been fixtures of the German punk scene since the late ’90s, playing in power-pop-tinged garage punk acts like the HIGHSCHOOL ROCKERS and the KIDNAPPERS. They formed KÜKEN in the early 2010s and have issued a steady stream of EPs and LPs via the usual Euro garage channels, like Alien Snatch and Bachelor. What we have here is Alien Snatch reissuing their second LP, 2017’s self-titled album initially on Drunken Sailor, and adding a couple of bonus tracks. With this coming out hot on the heels of last year’s self-titled (so-called III) LP, it’s hard not to compare the two releases. And I think this is the stronger record. Both are full of the type of snotty but power pop-y downstroke punk that probably had its heyday back in the mid-to-late ’00s, when acts like the CARBONAS, BEAT BEAT BEAT, or the MARKED MEN were in full swing. But the fourteen tracks on this LP, which fly by in a brisk twenty-one minutes, don’t sound as thin as the stuff on III, and they strike a cooler, more consistent tone. Imagine some amalgam of the aforementioned acts crossed with a little of the bleak nihilism of, say, PREDATOR. It’s way more up my alley than schlockier strut rock moments on the new LP. Both records are worth your time, for sure. But if you missed this one for some reason, now’s your time to dig in—it’s great!
Hamburg’s KÜKEN (“Cock”) showing up like the neighborhood kid you haven’t seen in a while, and suddenly he’s all grown up and muscular and shit on this third self-titled LP. Their previous efforts have been great, delivering some of the best garage punk of our time, but now they’ve evolved into certified killers, playing top-tier dirty rock’n’roll to rival even the finest moments of classic Rip Off Records and such. The eleven sharp tunes here carry an effortless swagger, and every song is a banger. The band’s signature shambling groove established on tracks like “Stick Meat” from their debut LP turns up polished and perfected on tunes like “Off The Track” and “Goatleather,” flooding my brain with dopamine every time it hits. There’s an obvious RAMONES homage at work in these songs, along with a rare degree of sophisticated juvenility that reminds me of ’90s French punk heroes the SPLASH FOUR, and overall they’re just really in-the-pocket on this shit-hot thumper of a record. It’s a perfect soundtrack for exhibiting poor judgment, risking it all, or just, you know, getting over-excited while driving home from work.
Man, these guys come out of the gates swinging, with a faster-paced, almost frenetic number. This is punk rock. Sure, it’s catchy, but it’s got this nervous energy that keeps the listener on edge. They keep up the pace for the entire record. This thing just shreds. At times I’m reminded of the DEAD BOYS, only amped up a tad. And just for the hell of it, they throw in a PAGANS cover. Excellent record.
NYC’s MORAL PANIC returns with a third helping of dirty back alley punk’n’roll. Composed of real scene vets who know their way around an instrument, they belt out twelve doses of DEVIL DOGS, SUICIDE KING, and HUMPERS-style bash-’em-up trash punk. “Quarantine” is quite the topical rager, and they do an excellent CONSUMERS cover. Hope I get to check ‘em out live, being a Big Rotten Apple resident now myself. Rock on, men.
I’ve always been a fan of Alien Snatch Records. They consistently put out not just stuff that I like, but quality stuff. This one is no exception. I suppose I’d call this power pop, but it’s more than that. It’s catchy for sure, but it’s also got a fair amount of distortion that gives it some meat. I also find that vocals (and harmonies) give it a certain texture that elevates it above just being another decent power pop record. As I finish up listening to it, I’m struck that it’s a good record the first time through, but it’s also a certainty for me that it’ll just get better and better as I listen to it again. This is worth looking for.
The cover (which is awesome) has you expecting a cowboy/western edge. Think Clint Eastwood and spaghetti westerns. Think cowboy surf. Add vocals. Now add some distortion. But it’s not one dimensional. Subsequent tracks get a little fuzzy. This is rock’n’roll. It’s crazy catchy and a little uncomfortable at the same time. That’s a pretty sweet combo. Just a few songs in and you realize that this goes well beyond some cowboy shtick. This is for reals. Man, they finish a great record with perhaps the best song, which is very RADIO BIRDMAN-like. I don’t know how long they’ve been at it, but Alien Snatch continues to deliver the goods.
This second full-length release from Sweden’s REAL TEARS delivers thirteen high-energy power pop tracks, with a touch of glam and a gritty edge. They sound like the type of people that might get picked on by bikers while playing at an out-of-the way truck stop bar in the ’70s, but also like the type of people that might pull a crowbar out of their tour van and fight back. Classic rock’n’roll riffs figure heavily into the mix and the unchecked enthusiasm reminds of early MARKED MEN or the CARBONAS. A real feel-good record.
Slick, greasy rock’n’roll punk from Berlin. Driving, non-stop drums and guitars with vocals that are reminiscent of Wattie Buchan fronting the SPITS. A solid addition to the Alien Snatch canon.
Wow, this is straightforward, grinding and pounding garage punk from Berlin. It’s got an intensity not often encountered in the melodic punk/power pop world. Sure, it’s catchy and it’s easy to bounce your head along, but the real story here is the energy they bring and the sense of urgency that comes with it. Eight tracks, but that’s all you need for now. At times, they bring me back to Australia and what was going on there in 1978/1979. Other times, they remind me of the STITCHES. Excellent record.
San Antonio-based SEX MEX, the solo project of Clark Gray turned full touring band, brings us another compilation of previous 2023 releases. This definitely has the vocal distortion and itchy synth lines of a bedroom project, so much so that when I dropped the needle on the opener “New Girl,” I thought my turntable was playing at 45 rpm. Settling into the reality of this fast, lo-fi mania, I found genuinely catchy power pop songs, ultimately preferring the A-side that contains three of the four tracks from the Double Bubble Blowout cassette (the fourth track is on the B-side). The B-side features songs from the We’re a Happy Family cassette, as well as “Better Off Dead” and “Electric Chair” which both made the preceding album Sex Mex 22. And while “Electric Chair” keeps making the cut for these compilations, I think songs like “Bloody Lip” and “Sadie” set a higher bar for the band. Looking back on SEX MEX’s discography, Clark Gray is really trying to build an iconography of his face on the album covers with sort of a middle school Myspace aesthetic, and the music itself seems to be a lot of repacking of songs and albums, to the extent that in April of this year, they put out Repackaged, which is just that. All of these things make me dislike this band, and then I listen to the music and get lost in the bubblegum ecstasy of some glitter-and-balloon party that I can’t help but enjoy. You decide.
I really liked this band’s debut self-titled full-length, and was excited to see what they’d cooked up in the past couple of years. I’m mostly happy to report that while the sound is just a touch slinkier and snakier, it maintains its core of driving rock‘n’roll that carries echoes of giants like the ROLLING STONES without merely staley worshiping at the altar. The recipe hasn’t been tweaked much, the guitar work relies heavily on that back-and-forth boogie sound lifted from classic rhythm and blues music for decades, and the drums keep your ass wiggling throughout. What I will say is that I’m missing some of the warmth and recklessness of the band’s debut. Everything’s dialed-in and tidy, but that’s not what everyone wants from rock‘n’roll, is it? With some extra polish, I feel more distanced from the material. It lacks the immediacy, the broken glass on the floor, the stains on the bathroom stall door at a really great dive. Maybe that’s all artifice in itself, but if I get to choose the dream world I live in, I prefer one with cheap drinks where I can smoke inside. This time around, it’s more of a signature cocktail lounge and I’d better take my cigs the hell outside or else.
Naming your band STREET PANTHER and putting out a record called Muscle Rock lays out a pretty damn tight rope you gotta walk to pull off; fall one way and it’s all too jokey, fall another way and it’s all too coke-y. Well, not to worry, because STREET PANTHER nailed that walk with ease. These are self-aware, tongue-in-cheek rock anthems about being an aggro, fist-fighting, street boy, troublemaker heathen (and yes, those all happen to be song titles as well). This record is about the primitive urges rock’n’roll was created to convey to the masses. So drop any pretense, drape yourself in denim, turn it to eleven, and don’t forget to always “Flex hard / Keep on flexin’.”
Forty-five seconds in and I’m fucking digging this thing. It’s mid-tempo and melodic and just catchy as all hell. The guitar, bass, and drums are in perfect harmony. Even if I felt like stopping my head from bouncing, it just wouldn’t be possible. I give into my urges and I bounce my head. It reminds me of bands like the POPPETS and the WHITE STRIPES, without sounding much like either of them. Even when it gets heavy and methodical, it remains upbeat. It’s pop. It’s punk. It’s not pop punk. And not all songs make your head bounce, some make it shake from side to side, like you’re some kind of a tough guy or smartypants. This will get a lot of play on my devices.
Lovely little four-song slab from Ventura, California’s SWEET REAPER. Energetic, vocal-driven power pop with such a clean guitar tone that you’d think they were playing from an original 1950s Telecaster. Vocals are very melodic, and bring to mind MARKED MEN, RADIOACTIVITY, and a slew of other Dirtnap bands. Helps warm the bones on these chilly winter nights. Great stuff.
I’ve always loved art that seems to peel back the mask of an otherwise serene and happy environment. Ventura’s SWEET REAPER exists in the tradition of beach punk like AGENT ORANGE, ADOLESCENTS, RIKK AGNEW, etc. On the surface, Ventura could seem like a shiny, happy surfer’s paradise, but this album simmers with the sun-bleached angst beneath the boardwalk. Musically, we’re coming out of the gate strong: lead-off track “Reapers Back” is the best song the MARKED MEN never wrote. The MARKED MEN comparison is a bit of a red herring though, as the rest of the album bears less of a resemblance to Denton’s finest. Still catchy as hell, but with a cynical detachment to the vocals and an abrasive jangle to the guitars that at times harkens back to the ADVERTS. Ten short songs packed with melody, hooks, and energy. No chaff.
OK, this band got me trying to remember a Swedish pop band I used to listen to, it took me like a damn hour to think of… CAESAR’S PALACE, specifically the album Cherry Kicks. Ventura, CA’s SWEET REAPER presents way more punk in both production and songwriting, but it’s got a similar vocal delivery. A more relatable touchstone could be MARKED MEN, or I even dare to stretch it to HEX DISPENSERS. Don’t get too settled with my predictable Tex-ass comparisons though, because there’s a heap of California beach punk here, as per their proximity to the Pacific Ocean. Each pop vocal hook is sharpened deadly and cast through the cheek of any dumb punk willing to nibble. The drummer does that kick-drum-on-all-four-beats thing, topped with sixteenth-note hi-hats, it’s the ultimate thing to tip a band into danceable territory. A nice surprise! Who else hates the label name “Alien Snatch”?
The BATTLEBEATS are an Indonesian garage punk band. They have a very ’90s style. It’s lo-fi, distorted, and catchy. The vocals are screeched and the drum beats punchy. It’s basic dirty rock’n’roll with a fun attitude.
You don’t need to know that the GRUESOMES were Canadian or that they formed in the mid-’80s or that this album was originally released around 2000, but that is all probably helpful information. Here’s some better information: this is some amazingly catchy garage pop that will grab your feet and just start moving them. It’s mid-tempo and super melodic and it’s got a fuzzy guitar sound that will transport you to a garage full of wild teenage kids back in 1967. A couple of key things: one, it’s on Alien Snatch. Two, if Jon von (SACRED COWS, MR. T EXPERIENCE, RIPOFFS) was Canadian, he’d have been in this band.
My love of duos is well known. Bands like the HUSSY, the COURETTES, the GOOCH PALMS, the MAXINES, and now the NEW BRUTARIANS are among my favorites. It’s probably not coincidental that all of those bands also feature one male member and one female member. If you took the energy of 1977 punk and focused it into more of a pop theme, you might get something like this Hysteria LP. The band they remind me of the most is the HEARTBREAKERS. It’s super catchy and mid-tempo and melodic, but also has a garage element to it. While it’s got its more traditional punk moments, at its core, I’d call this pop music, but it’s got an authenticity rarely found in pop. They even throw in an acoustic number. It’s fun to listen to pop music played by folks who grew up on punk, as opposed to pop music played by folks who grew up on Top 40 radio. Just a different thing entirely.
This New Jersey band cranks out the up-tempo garage punk. Supposedly, a SUPERCHARGER cover band originally (major cool points there), this has a sped-up DEAD BOYS and SAINTS feel. Pretty rockin’.
This record really ticks off the boxes—eleven tracks, none of them over two-and-a-half minutes long, and reportedly recorded on one cheap microphone (but sounds better than most studio efforts). It has taffy-sweet hooks, but still sounds tough. Basically everything you want from nihilistic garage punk that’s still palatable enough to put on at a dinner party (depending on how cool your friends are). Hits a great STOOGES-like peak with the “Gimme Danger”-echoing highlight “It Ain’t Fun (In the City of the Whiplash).” The whole album slips in, slaps your face and dips out before you can ask for another. Raucous, gritty, and near-perfect.
This British band plays tuneful, raw melodic punk. Yes, the vocals do have an ELVIS COSTELLO feel. Musically, this sounds very UK 1979 to me: CLASH, BUZZCOCKS, EDDIE AND THE HOT RODS… Yes, it’s been done before, but these guys do it well. Excellent.
