Issued on tape by the German label ETT last month, Gold Plus is a new version of the release announced at the beginning of this year. If my computer could be a band, definitely it would be like AOL—machine voice, great cool riffs, systemic drums. This Floridan band knows how to hack into the cybernet world, seven nice and short tracks easy to repeat all over again and again. Bring punk to beyond modern life, DEVO-core in your new and best way.
Primitive Species from 2017 was a refreshing fusion of obnoxious techno-like intensity and primitive hardcore punk energy. ARSE’s identity sounds like a drunken, stumbling warning of something very ugly and violent coming your way. You can also dance to it if that’s your thing. Safe Word doesn’t bend radically from the face-melting formula previously introduced, but they do tend to flirt with more traditional “rock tropes,” and it works surprisingly well. At times when riffing out like SUICIDE or FLIPPER, the neanderthal singing reminds you of why you’re still here. During its eleven minutes on the turntable, Safe Word actually creates an album-like quality. I suppose ARSE is kind of what PISSED JEANS wish they were: great songwriting and musical abilities performed for dumb people.
Third LP from Newcastle, Australia’s BUSTED HEAD RACKET! While Riley Gardiner takes care of most of the drumming on the album, this project is otherwise the solo effort of Arden Guff, blasting us gracious listeners with a the lo-fi bedroom sounds of farty bass, piercing synth, and cuddlecore vocals that, while playful, still ask for our attention with tracks like “Poor No More” and “Girl Anymore (I Don’t Wanna).” The songs are catchy, fun, carefree, and short, necessitating many replays. You may ask, do we need more of this thing? This heartfelt yet fun synth-driven journal entry music? The answer is yes. With a back catalog of two other LPs and a few singles/EPs, there is plenty to enjoy here, even a collaboration with BILLIAM on Genetic Southern Hemisphere Christmas from November of 2023. Go! Go! Go! will serve a variety of purposes, from not getting out of bed all day (“Anxiety”), to enjoying the freedom of the road (“Need for Speed”), to loosening up a crowd on the dance floor (“Doo Wop”)—whatever it’s use, get your head busted by this racket now!
Here’s a band that does the sleaze-rock-meets-heavy-metal sound with some actual flair—not to mention brains. From track one, you know what you’re in for, as whining dog leads and the classic “slam on the piano” riff set the stage for rhythmic pyrotechnics and lead singer Ben Portnoy’s incredibly commanding growl. This band raises hell in a way most rock bands forget how to, and they don’t sound the least bit stale for all their reference (and reverence) to the hazy halls of hallowed rock that came before. Part of what makes the formula so fresh is that there’s clearly more thinking going on than the group might want to let on at first. Take some of the lyrics from ripper “Cecila”: “Volunteer your story to your new chosen friend / Treat it like a rag through the back of your head / Follow suit, dirty the bowl / Dread dripping from your pockets as you power home.” That’s practically out of a novel for my money, and it lends serious pathos to a record that’s more than just a good time (although it is also most certainly that). Unreal record. Stone classic that breathes smoke and pukes fire.
German label Erste Theke Tonträger delivers this fiery debut LP from Naarm, Australia, featuring members of PINCH POINTS, DR. SURE’S UNUSUAL PRACTICE, GONZO, DRAGNET, CARPET BURN, GUTTER GIRLS, and more. Synth-punk-driven garage madness. Solid grit, multiple and good flipping variations. Including crazy-ass funky vibes, and even cadences near Aussie cumbia (if it even exists?) in passages. Exquisite drums, and the synth and keyboards are excellent here. All tracks are in harmony, and there are some that could be an EP on their own, as in the case of “10th Dimension Advertisement Apocalypse,” which surpasses eleven minutes in length, and “Checkers.” The old lo-fi ’80s tape vibe is well-achieved, and there’s even some nods to the style of Under the Gun associates. Multifaceted, trance-inducing egg-psych almost all the way, especially the track “Circuit Breaker.” Good blasting explosions of Australian garage from a solid super-group delivering new dimensions and sounds. Crunchy, deep-fried, lo-fi feels.
I’ve never been a fan of the moniker, I hate any kind of label to begin with, and I understand that it came about more or less organically (and more or less ironically tongue-in-cheek), but I must admit that it made me shy away from bands I saw associated with that thing they call “egg-punk” or “DEVO-core.” Anyway, CRISIS MAN is actually good. Like really, really good. These songs are full of gushing anxiety and energy that seems to make the songs almost collapse in on themselves. But the songs build complex structures that make them dynamic and always interesting. In addition to that, there are melodic hooks galore, great riffs, a beast of a drummer, a howling vocalist, a bass that throws memorable lines, and above all, what is most appreciated by this writer, a spirit of freedom that is contagious and that makes the band transcend any stylistic delimitation. Egg-what?
With their brooding and dark sound on the aggressive end of the melodic punk spectrum, it’s actually surprising to me that this band isn’t from Portland. DEAD CELLS are from Vancouver, BC, which, it turns out, actually gets even more rainfall than the capital of brooding, melodic punk. Drenched in chorus effects, with desperate, panicky vocals and melodramatic drum compositions, this record delivers a sound likely to appeal to fans of angsty Northwestern punk like the OBSERVERS and the WIPERS. This record stands apart from the pack with a strong leaning toward classic death rock and a subtle surf vibe that peeks through intermittently. The vocals forgo cool guy slickness, instead veering toward Roz Williams territory—a welcome break from the norm. Definitely an aesthetic that is relevant in the current historical moment and not to be missed for fans of punk that runs on melodic, bittersweet, joyous despair.
This album is a chameleon unstuck in time. Every time you look at it, it seems to be on a different plane, in a different form. This is all to say that DEAD FINKS continue a welcome tradition of breaking down and rebuilding what actually constitutes music being “punk.” The results of their experimentation takes familiar-enough roads of driving elastic rhythms and ringing guitars to arrive at destinations wholly fresh and new. Tracks like “Reanimation” lock into the head-bobbing groove of contemporaries such as PARQUET COURTS or even more psych-leaning bands such as WAND, but vocally and lyrically stand out as more impassioned and a good deal more present. The duo, Joseph Thomas and Erin Violet, really sound like they give a damn while coming across as no less cool than more detached present-day punk tinkerers. That’s probably what drives the whole project home for me, a wild-eyed emotionality that offsets the mastery of aesthetics and headiness. It’s no wonder, then, that the band finishes with a cover of the FALL’s “Frightened,” reportedly recorded on the eve of Mark E. Smith’s death. DEAD FINKS’ version is a beautiful closer that couldn’t possibly outshine the original but comes damned close.
DISCOVERY does not mince words, as evidenced by the eloquence of this ripping EP’s opening track “Pig Shit.” These guys from the Bay Area go hard, playing tough, driving, and straightforward hardcore with plenty of tasty nuance. They take their cue from early US bands as well as classic Japanese hardcore without aping styles, and this 7″ is jam-packed with tight and heavy tunes to reflect on, revel in, and rage to.
Debut LP from this Sydney three-piece following a couple of EPs, the earliest of which came out back in 2017. And this thing kicks off with quite a track! “Nitty Picky” starts out as a energetic post-punk number—the rhythm section provides a bit of a bounce but keeps things relatively stern, while jagged guitars stab into the track, and the vocalist blurts out her lyrics in a shout falling somewhere between NOTS’ tuneless contralto and WARM BODIES’ manic, sing-songy yelp. But about twenty seconds in, the track shifts gears. The bass line gets busier and more tuneful and the guitar launches into a shimmering melodic chorus—like Andy Gill and Dave Allen morphing into Bernard Summer and Peter Hook mid-song. The remaining nine tracks on the record also more or less teeter on that same seesaw with GANG OF FOUR on one end and something closer to new wave on the other, but it’s never as balanced as it is on that album opener. Nevertheless, it’s an extremely listenable record by a band that clearly reveled in the act of making music together and seemed capable of growing and delivering a classic in the near future. Tragically, this will be the last we hear them. The guitarist passed away suddenly about a year prior to the album’s release—something I was devastated to learn after spending so much time listening to the record and thinking specifically about how much life his guitar breathed into it. I can’t imagine the toll this loss has taken on the surviving band members or the scene that was touched by their music. It’s made subsequent listens tough. Still, I encourage you to give the record a spin. It’s music you can’t help but enjoy.
It appears as though this Melbourne act has been kicking around for a few years now, but this is certainly the first I’m hearing of them. But given this project’s name and song titles like “Super Speedy Zippy Wipper,” I had a sinking feeling that getting through this was going to be an uphill battle. And I wasn’t wrong. To be fair, the ten tracks on this LP are impressively crafted songs that are a bit post-hardcore and a bit post-punk, and the production comes off as very professional. But this sounds like the KILLERS playing DISMEMBERMENT PLAN songs to me. And I know that punk lyrics aren’t generally the most subtle, but lines like “Chasing infinite growth in dirty energy / But there’s no infinite growth if it’s clean and free” are really hard to take when presented in such a clever-rock context (even if I totally agree with the sentiment). I get the impression that others would like this stuff a lot more than me. So, maybe give it a go—you’ll probably be able to tell within a song or two whether or not this is for you.
Athens, Greece trio leaning heavy into a pop-synth/drum-machine soundscape, only to break the mold with vocals that range from post-punk to new wave dance to weirdo DIE ANTWOORD-esque rapping (see “Φεύγουμε Από Εδώ (Let’s Get Out of Here)” featuring SCI-FI RIVER). In this way, each song is its own oddball trip. The album translates to “Emotional Disease,” and maybe that explains it all.
Hattiesburg, Mississippi’s DUMSPELL presents their unique brand of weirdo slacker punk for our listening pleasure. Well-versed in winding, dissonant guitar melodies and matter-of-fact vocal delivery, comparisons to VATS or NOTS come to mind. This is a no-filler record; every song feels as though it’s been crafted carefully, and explored fully. If this sounds up your alley, it probably is.
Recorded in 2015 and released last year, ENDLESS COLUMN’s debut LP is a warm, surf-tinged 12-string-guitar-laden modern punk pop classic. Featuring a who’s who of aughts-era punks, this Chicago-based band has moody songcraft in common with the members’ former groups (namely, the OBSERVERS and DAYLIGHT ROBBERY) without explicitly sounding like those earlier projects. There’s still the tinge of WIPERS influence here, alongside some surprisingly BYRDS-influenced guitarwork. And then there are parts of this album that almost sound more like a janglier SST-era SCREAMING TREES?! It’s hard to pinpoint influences beyond gesturing to the broader pantheon of song-driven American indie and garage punk, but regardless this is a terrific album that rewards repeat listening.
It took a few listens for this record to click. On the first couple of spins I heard a competent take on the same type of thing EDDY CURRENT SUPPRESSION RING has been doing for years. That comparison is as lazy as it is fair—they’re both Australian (MINI SKIRT hails from Byron Bay), they play the same type of post-punk-tinged garage punk, they can ride a groove beyond the four-minute mark, and they’re led by an energetic, plain-spoken yobbo vocalist. What I missed initially, though, was just how important that vocalist is to this record. I suck at paying attention to lyrics, generally only noticing them when they are awful. But try as I might, it’s impossible to ignore them when presented this baldly. So, after a few play-throughs I started to notice their sincerity (refreshing when compared to the glut of egg-punk zaniness and post-punk remove that populates the modern punk landscape) and their atypical subject matter…at least for a band whose sound bares this much resemblance to pub rock. They deal with political nuance and the difficulties of getting older in a world that’s seemingly going to hell and run primarily by idiots, and the vocalist is able to wrench way more emotion out of these lyrics than you would expect given that he’s basically talk-shouting. It’s really an incredible performance, and I found myself genuinely moved at points. Anyway, somewhere around my fourth or fifth listen this record turned from solid to essential. Please give it a go!
A fantastic split between two Australian punk bands. MINI SKIRT is up first with a very bass-driven style. The vocals come off monotone at times, but there’s something I really like about them. They feel authentic and sincere, especially on “Bag of Bones,” which appears to be a love song. Feels similar to Frankie Stubbs of LEATHERFACE. MINI SKIRT can be a little repetitive at times, but again, it works for them. C.O.F.F.I.N has a very different dynamic. Guitar-driven tracks with a vocalist that could be described as a punk rock MEAT LOAF. Very theatrical, especially when the piano lead comes in on “Under Your Wing.” This split works because the bands sound different enough to keep it fresh, but similar enough that you’ll be happy with both sides if you dig this sound.
This is the European version of the same album that was released in the US by Fullerton juggernaut Neck Chop Records. The opening track and album title are a satirical tease, suggesting that these pop-slop-punk veterans turned in their Chuck Taylors and Fenders for cowboy boots and steel guitars. Given this band’s hilarious character acting in their videos, I half believed it. I was expecting something like CLOROX GIRLS’ Justin Maurer’s recent forays into country and western music or the SUPERSUCKERS’ Must’ve Been High album, but the country joke ends after the first track. Which is fine, because the rest of the album is packed with their tight, witty two-piece power punk songs. I’ve been a fan since their 2013 debut, and they just keep getting better.
Debut LP from this Brooklyn-via-Oakland art/dance-punk three-piece. This sounds like what you might get were you to raise a few DEVO-core mutants on What Makes a Man Start Fires-era MINUTEMEN and later PARQUET COURTS. It works best when they sound more like the former, less like the latter, and resist their basest mutant urges to showcase how “weird” they can get. The brand of half-hearted experimentation that they’re trying out here just sounds pretentious and annoying when paired with the otherwise straightforward punk funk or NYC-style dance-punk that they’re playing. Luckily, most of these sixteen tracks are sub-two minutes, so the more irritating songs are at least over pretty quickly. Not for the wacky-averse, but interesting enough to be worth a listen.
I loved PINCH POINTS’ debut LP. It was punchy and pointed, the kind of jagged-angle punk with a POV that you leave on repeat. I didn’t think they could take such a grand leap forward, but sure as shit, they did. This collection of songs is a hell of a lot of fun musically, but the lyrics brought me to my knees. It’s all on-the-nose, but not in the way people usually mean as a lazy critique. The band says what it means, because they’re not being cute or coy. With songs about mental health, misogyny, the incarceration and murder of First Nations peoples at the hands of police, and literal calls to action against apathy, these are important screeds against the ills of our globally unwell society. Then the band wraps it all in a package of catchy, well-read hooks and illuminated playing across the board. A recent video gave a peek into the band’s writing process, and I saw something I hadn’t seen in a jam space in a long time: a white board featuring every bridge and sub-bridge and ABCs galore. It makes sense, the results are a sort of prog-but-not-for-dorks lightning bolt of punk with an effortless (sounding) execution. It’s exhilarating, and already leaves me breathless for the next release.
UK-based one-man operation POWERPLANT turned a lot of heads in 2019 when his second album People in the Sun was released, and there is a good reason for this. Hard to describe but easy to listen to, this is lo-fi synth-punk in its essence but every tune is a whole new world in itself. “Hey Mr Dogman!” is one hell of an opener, showcasing POWERPLANT’s high-energy garage-punk-meets-SCREAMERS sound, and right next, “Snake Eyes” shifts the game completely in a DEVO-esque weird artsy vibe. There is so much to explore here and every listen will make you piece this puzzle even better. This might be the definition of what egg-punk really is.
If you want to put some wacky, wild, “blink and you’ll miss it”-style nerd-punk in your ear holes, PRISON AFFAIR is probably what you’ve been craving. With vocals echoing back and forth between the shrieking and megaphone-assisted to deep and menacing reverberations, there seems to be a chaotic balance in place here but just barely. Technically, you’re told that you’re listening to four sub-two-minute tracks, but the experience is more of a singular six-minute-plus manic dream. It’s as positive as it is sweaty and uncomfortable. It’s impossible to recommend a single track when they’re all tied together like a perfect knot and the whole experience is so yummy and easy to digest. If you’re sad that you never got to see DEVO live, get in on this Barcelona-based experience and fill that need.
This gave me wicked déjà vu before I dawned on me that I heard these tracks, in this order, on the rather excellent cassette EP of the same name. Oakland’s PUBLIC INTEREST, a.k.a. the solo project of Chris Natividad from MARBLED EYE, leads with lo-fi synths and electronic drums which serve the jaded and half-sung vocals just right. “Design Flaw” breaks a classic JOY DIVISION-style construction down to basics with a dark and nostalgic arpeggio swirling around it, building a proper mania. And like JOY DIVISION, it employs its cold, cold drum machines in a way that still sounds very much alive and not like a sterile scratch demo. A vinyl-worthy project to be sure; hell, get it on both formats, it’s dud-free.
Second album from Oakland’s PUBLIC INTEREST, with their take on dark post-punk. The only musician credited is Chris Natividad, so whether this plush, full-band sound is coming from him and him only, I can’t truly say. If you’re familiar with his other band MARBLED EYE, you will like this variation on their theme that is more pop-driven in its beat, while still providing those reverbed-out, languishing guitar lines. The vocals are as if Thurston Moore is singing in a monotone baritone the whole time, which works with the steady, mid-tempo drums and repetitious bass chugging and synth strokes, best exemplified on “Falling Ash.” The dark aura of MORPHINE or TYPE O NEGATIVE comes to mind, but as a punk outfit. Erste Theke Tontraeger hasn’t led me astray yet, and this record is no exception.
R.M.F.C. (or Rock Music Fan Club) is the bedroom recording project of New South Wales teen Buz Clatworthy, and this LP compiles his first two cassettes. This fits nicely alongside any of the recent spate of releases from fellow NWI-worshiping Aussies, like SATANIC TOGAS, RESEARCH REACTOR CORP, DISCO JUNK, GEE TEE, etc. What sets R.M.F.C. apart from those other bands is his willingness to slow things down a bit. While there are plenty of the lightning-fast tracks that you’ve probably come to expect from this lot, songs like “Television” and “Mirror” creep by in comparison and really allow you the time to appreciate the odd mix of influences these kids are working with. Maybe it’s just because I feel a little inundated with speedy DEVO-core lately, but I find myself preferring these slower tracks. Regardless, this is an impressive collection of tunes, and I’m looking forward to seeing what this kid comes up with next.
Frantic collision of energetic scrambled egg-punk from these two bands. First up is RESEARCH REACTOR CORP., who sound like mad scientists in the middle of an experiment going terribly wrong. I like their garage-punk-meets-oscillator terror sound and their teenage basement songwriting aesthetic. This sounds like a neon poster collection and a stack of fourth generation VHS sci-fi dubs on shag carpet. There is some definite CONEHEADS influence, although the vocals are harsher and howled over the tight, trebly arrangements. And “Human to Raisin” is a great song title. So the first side is a winner. Side Two features Spain’s PRISON AFFAIR, who also rule, but in a totally different way. These three songs are super-melodic jammers that sound like trashy ’50s rock’n’roll sped up with drum machines. Each track has constant guitar leads and catchy melodies for days. “Encerrado Contigo” is a blast of high-volume, nostalgia-inducing pop that sounds like the best parts of being a teenager. It’s so good. These are the kinds of splits I like: two bands who don’t necessarily sound that similar but fit together in spirit. Definitely a fun listen.
It’s a head scratcher that this group that sets battery acid in your veins is actually from Australia and not American flyover country. This is a compilation of previously released cassette tapes with an unabashedly egg-punk composition. R.R.C. plays rock’n’roll standards with a GEZA-X-like sneer characterized by herky-jerky interplay, a synthesizer setting down a catchy hook and dog-bark vocals somewhere between UROCHROMES and HANK WOOD on top. Nth wave of skrunky, Adderall-eyed DEVO-worship.
Bay Area punks SABRÉ bring us a concise demo with UK82 energy tempered by looming post-punk/anarcho vibes. Gravelly vocals and dizzying guitar work propel these four short and sharp songs forward, and when it’s over in a flash you’re compelled to play it again. Cool.
What starts out as stompy and melodic hardcore gives way to a number of ARTICLES OF FAITH-isms creeping in as the record progresses, especially when considering the vocals, guitar tone, and specific riffs in combination with each other, all of which culminate on “Sim Eyes,” which sounds like a reworking of “Everyday” in particular. Check this out, and hope they come to your town in 2022.
This compilation of this Aussie band’s earlier cassette releases is DEVO-worship with more of a rusted-out electronics flair. While it sometimes comes off like a cuddly version of MINISTRY, it just as often feels like the POLYSICS got into PCP. The first half of this release will take the listener to a weirdo punk show in a basement space, and the second half leans heavy into a gothy dance party on a sunny day under a dingy overpass. “Terrorvision” is a solid punk jam, despite being long for this album at just over 2 minutes and 30 seconds. “Data Lost…” is the soundtrack to depressed robots taking over your planet and way of life. Wrap your favorite body parts in tin foil, dye your eyebrows blue, and get ready to sweat out chemicals when you listen to this one.
Blistering post-hardcore from the pivotal Melbourne scene that borrows from ’77 punk, street curb rock, and failed rehab. A modern day, faster Aussie take on MCLUSKY or PISSED JEANS but with a touch of humor and the stamina to party harder. There’s double guitars and crazy tight drums/bass that don’t slow down, but it’s Wolfgang Buckley’s scratchy, screaming, near-breaking vocals that make you want to pound your fist or start dancing or just Iggy strut around your quarantine hole wishing you could see them live.
Gathered around the gutters of Berlin, URIN is an international punk collaboration with members of ROCK, PISS, CUNTROACHES, and G.L.O.S.S. After their 2018 demo, they are back with Incydent, their ripping four-song EP of raw, lo-fi punk that would make SHITLICKERS proud. Heavily delayed vocals sung angrily in Polish, the guitars and bass form a barrage of noise, and the drums are sharp and waste no time messing around. An exciting standout EP from a band that simply has no time for bullshit. Just straight-in-your-face punk!
The embodiment of bombast, Berlin’s URIN drops hard and never let up. Blown-out, manipulated, affected, tortured, ferocious, noisy hardcore peaking constantly. The kind of record that makes you gasp when it’s over…because you realize that you’ve been holding your breath.
You might find it hard to get a handle on UTOPIAN, even while their debut demo is getting its hooks into you. That’s partly because they remain mysterious, to anyone cursed with distance at least: they have a location (LA) and first names, but no clear web presence and a moniker that thumbs its nose at yer search engine’s surveillance. Moreover, these six songs pinball between goth, post-punk, hardcore, and noise rock without the result making you feel like the band ought to pick a damn side. Vocalist Sesamie introduces “Circle A” with some portentous spoken word but is swiftly revealed as a fiery yowling force, one which places songs like “Spiritual Vision,” the Spanish-language “Tierra Ajena,” and the pogo-fabulous “U.B.P.” in the orbit of COLD MEAT. Really hope UTOPIAN is built to last.
What I believe started as a few of the Sydney rock mutants (RESEARCH REACTOR CORP., GEE TEE, and SET-TOP BOX) fartin’ around and playing some covers has now morphed into a full-blown spectacle. After recruiting a bunch of like-minded bands and fleshing the project out into legit comp (2020’s GTRRC II), we now find them pooling their resources with labels Erste Theke Tontraeger, Legless, and Under the Gun to bring you 46—46!—tracks across two whole damn LPs from pretty much every band in the contemporary egg-leaning punk scene. And, look, there are some cool bands on here and some cool songs, but you already know you don’t need this. It’s basically the punk equivalent of a giant sack of Halloween candy. There’s plenty of good stuff in here, but there’s also quite a few Tootsie Rolls, some generic-ass orange and black wrapped taffies, and even a few toothbrushes and pennies. Some sickos are going to sit down and eat the whole bag, and some fun-haters are going to steer clear of it entirely. But most folks are going to pick at the good stuff, setting a few things aside to come back to later. For me that good stuff—the Snickers and Almond Joys, if you will—would include SPODEE BOY (covering STICK MEN WITH RAY GUNS’ “Hell to Pay”), C.O.F.F.I.N. (FUNKADELIC’s “Super Stupid”), SCIENCE MAN (ZZ TOP’s “Sharp Dressed Man”), MUTANT STRAIN (the GERMS’ “Strange Notes”), and SPINAL CRAP (I’m pretty this is SCHIZOS playing ROSE TATTOO’s “Nice Boys”). I’m sure your pile would look a little different.
