Reviews

Helta Skelta

Cold Meat Hot and Flustered LP

Perth’s COLD MEAT were practically perfect from their first utterance, the Sweet Treats tape released nigh on five years back. I say “practically” to acknowledge that their atonal KBD clang, personal-political feminist lyrics and ever-changing pseudonyms stuck fast to a template established by GOOD THROB a few years prior. Hot and Flustered, COLD MEAT’s debut album, eclipses that minor issue majorly—this sounds like no individual entity so much as the latest raging entry in a half-century continuum of fucked-off snarky DIY punk. There are hooks on here visible from space, highlighted by a spot-on production, and lyrical earworms in waiting. Ashley Ack, as she goes by this time, is imperious here, one of punk’s current vocal powerhouses for sure, and at certain points (the closing section of “Women’s Work,” notably) seems to channel the spirit of Vi Subversa, the POISON GIRLS absolutely being part of that continuum I mentioned. A blazing band that keeps getting even better.

Gaffer Gaffer cassette

New-in-relative-terms punk from Perth, Australia, GAFFER played their debut show in May 2019, and snuck this seven-song demo out in March of this year. You can still grab a hard copy at the time of writing, which is nice, but suggests it’s flown under the radar a tad, which kinda sucks. There’s COLD MEAT personnel in the four-strong lineup—I think Kyle Gleadell if the wound-raw guitar tone is anything to go by—and vocals are handled by a British invader, Chris Shoulder, ex-herbert-y post-punx STRUCTURE. Accordingly, GAFFER have that air of heads-down CRISIS-type chunter to their sound, but also a bit of KBD rock-pig flourish and early-wave second-string UK fodder, the latter accentuated by consistently gloomy lyrics about life’s grinding drudgery. They’re not shy of breaking the three-minute mark (“Animal,” “Skin of Your Teeth”), yet this tape fair flies by.

Gaffer Dead End Beat LP

Perth punks GAFFER dropped their debut demo back in mid-2020 then seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. Considering the times, I just assumed it was another COVID casualty. Bummer! I was really into what they were putting out—a blend of ’77 punk and early ’80s UK hardcore with just a smidge of post-punk at the edges, fronted by a plainspoken but charismatic vocalist. Fortunately, they’ve re-emerged just as unexpectedly as they disappeared and are finally back to deliver on the promise of that debut. They’ve resurrected a good chunk of the tracks from that demo here, added a few more to flesh this out to a twelve-song LP, and polished everything up just enough. The record has a nice trebly, mid-fi production that manages to make everything sound crisp rather than thin and really helps drill these tunes straight into your dumb head. It’s a solid LP. Give it a listen if you like cool stuff or if you’ve ever wondered what PREDATOR would sound like if they traded their love of the ADOLESCENTS for GBH and swapped out their nihilism for a little bit of class consciousness.

Gutter Oil IX cassette

Six tracks of gross hardcore in the MEATMEN vein from this Perth, Australia band. The track list is probably the best litmus test for whether you will be into this or not; if you think songs like “Bomb the Hospitals” or “Small Hands Make the Best Clothes” are funny, you will like this. Their Bandcamp promises that “proceeds of sales will be donated to the ‘Second Chance Foundation’ to help re-home ugly children.” I’m sure the band finds all this hilarious. The music itself is thick, heavy hardcore with pounded floor tom beats, power-strummed chords, and slimy raw vocals, all interspersed with odd sound collages of crackling VHS tapes, patriotic songs decaying into noise, and self-help financial seminars. Standout tracks are “Drunk Fuck,” with the catchiest part of the tape in the refrain, “He only sucks when he’s drunk,” and the heavy bass groove that moves “Over the Hill” from mid-tempo chug to speedy D-beat. If well-produced, transgressively humorous punk is your thing, you could definitely do worse than GUTTER OIL.

Hacker Psy Wi-Fi EP

On this latest EP, HACKER from Melbourne sticks to their marriage of tech themes and pounding hardcore while showing an updated approach to their songwriting. It’s just as tight as their Pick a Path 12” from 2021, but these four tough tunes feel a bit more creative and catchy than the band’s previous output. It seems like these guys are becoming the diabolical machine they allude to in their lyrics and artwork, and “Scammer” is a real jam if you’re looking for something snappy to get stuck in your head.

Krimi Krimi demo cassette

The always timeless ’78–’83 rough (Trade)-and-tumble sound comes round once again, this time courtesy of KRIMI, a new project from four Perth punks with solid OZ DIY credentials through their involvement in COLD MEAT, PRODUCT, NERVE QUAKES, and BODY TYPE. If you’re going to invoke hallowed names like the AU PAIRS and PYLON in my presence, you’d fuckin’ better be able to cash that check, so I’m pleased to report that this tape is an absolute ripper. Ash’s vocals hit that tried-and-true “stern talking-to” tone that defined so many femme-punk greats, and the lyrics are smart and sharp, giving as much weight to the personal as the political (not to mention the significant overlap between those two concerns)—no post-punk privileging of style over substance here. There’s been a significant PRIMETIME-shaped hole in my heart these last few years, and the spiky pop of “Wax Resist” fills it more than capably, cracking the ELASTICA whip with a pronounced KLEENEX wobble for the ideal jagged/ragged duality, and the clipped shriek of “Working hard / At whose expense?” that punctuates “Dressed for Distress” is pure DELTA 5 poetry, while the bass-propelled “Vicious Cycle” tears into the juvenile incarceration complex with stark, almost anarcho-edged tension. I can’t believe this is only a demo, the future is KRIMI.

Paranoias Napalm Springs EP

Total mean-streak punk obliteration from Perth’s PARANOIAS, guided by lean ’77-’79 switchblade slash and early ’90s blown-out budget rock as they crash land into some raw, neo-Bloodstains snarl for the digital dark ages. They’ve offered up four gloriously unpolished sub-two-minute ragers (plus a more mid-tempo closer that barely cracks that mark) on Napalm Springs, recorded straight to tape for that authentic KBD murk, with frenetic and deliriously catchy—don’t call it “surfy”—Dangerhouse-worthy guitar, the clamor of bass and drums pushed beyond the red, and vocalist Hannah’s wired and almost helium-pitched yelps and shrieks, the latter which really seal the deal here. I get a similar rush from the unpolished nervous energy of “In the Bin” and “Medium Rare” as I did when I first stumbled across any number of ragingly shambolic early ’80s obscurities by the likes of the NIXE, SCHUND, RAKKETAX, et al. A real ripper!

Red Red Krovvy Managing LP

Having been around for a decade at this point, it’s quite a feat that Australia’s RED RED KROVVY has managed to remain so supremely agitated—they’re still pinning the needle into their color of choice and exorcising everyday demons like every good punk band should. Managing is their most consistent and satisfying collection of songs yet. There is a desperate, burned-out quality to RRK’s attack, but they cram enough down-turned hooks into each two-minute screed that the songs don’t end up an indefinite blur. “Before You Die” kicks off the album with a cathartic stare-down of existential dread and assures the listener that they will indeed leave a good-looking corpse. Singer Ash Wyatt (also of the excellent UBIK) possesses a memorable snarl and she uses it to great effect on cuts like “Company Job,” “Real Estate,” and “Despise The Rich.” Those titles give you an idea of where RED RED KROVVY’s head is at regarding the free market and its acolytes. Musically, there is a certain kinship with the dark side of SoCal beach punk. It’s tuneful but not poppy, fast but not ripping, and stripped of needless embellishment for the most part. Managing is a refreshing reminder that punk doesn’t need bells or whistles, just plenty of old fashioned spit and spite.

SEMTEX 87 C.I.B. demo cassette

Scab-ripping HC that’s newly emerged from the Perth scene (Australia not Scotland—you probably realised this already) and bundles the city’s thrashier and effusive anarcho sides in one unit, with two EXTORTION dudes and one from COLD MEAT, to name but two. C.I.B. is a six-song demo tape whose title refers to the Commonwealth Investigation Branch in Perth, and more specifically a dude who drove a tank into the side of it by way of revenge for a past cop brutalizing. (Search “1993 Perth tank rampage” on Wikipedia if you feel so inclined.) It’s seething, raw ur-hardcore all the way, maybe like the FIX or someone but with gruff-as-hell vocals from Rhys Davies, putting me in mind of Nicholas Sarnella in ARMS RACE.