Reviews

Total Punk

Alien Nosejob Stained Glass LP

This band is everywhere I look. I swear, I had three friends text me this album the day it dropped. With good reason, too. It rips! Guitar-worship to its fullest out of Melton, Australia. The press-release for this slab likens it to AC/DC. While that may be true for tracks like “Coastal Living 2,” I think the majority of the record sounds more like the NEW YORK DOLLS mashed with ZZ TOP. And not even just early-era TOP. I’m talking about the ’80s shit where they took a lot of risks, especially with “Sharp as a Needle” where the rhythm section really comes out for the first time. Speaking of, the bass and drums are tight as hell. I honestly can’t tell if it’s real drums or the best drum machine I’ve ever heard. Bass stays in the pocket for the majority of the record, and really gives the guitars the time to shine. Fantastic album, but seeing as it’s from Total Punk, you may already know that.

Alien Nosejob Turns the Colour of Bad Shit LP

The prolific Jake Robertson returns once again with a new slate of fantastic songs via his ALIEN NOSEJOB project, and continues to surprise by pushing into new sounds. This time around, Turns the Colour of Bad Shit offers up ten tracks of classic punk greatness. And what is true in the macro is true in the micro, as the sounds on these tracks even find ways to change and evolve from one to the next. Kicking off with the slow yet propulsive burn of “Bird Strike,” the record then flips right into the pummeling garage punk highlight of “Trapped in Time.” Anyone who loved this year’s fantastic PACK RAT album will be more than happy to toss this record on right after; snotty lyrical delivery coupled with primitive song structures that don’t need any other add-ons to grab your attention. It’s no wonder that Turns the Colour of Bad Shit is being put out by the trifecta of Total Punk in the US, Drunken Sailor in the UK and Anti Fade in Australia.

Andy Human and the Reptoids Psychic Sidekick LP

A long time comin’ for the REPTOIDS’ round two. Psychic Sidekick serves as a not-so-subtle reminder that Andy Human & Co. remain one of the top tier outfits around these days, presenting a bent variant that’s more critical, absurdist, and exciting than most of the contemporary class. Theirs is an out-of-time sound, recalling hyper-specific influences (why oh why do I continually think about the punkest moments from the OFFS or ALIEN CITY when hearing this band?) but arranged with a personality and perspective that’s unique and just plain interesting. So many killers. “You Like Your Job” is a huge wind-up, poking a safety pin in illusions via a sick guitar schmearing, “Thrust of History” is gutter glam from Galaxy Z, “Fissures” and “Echo Pedal” both take a bird’s eye outsider view while still buzzing mightily, on and on, and no duff cuts. As much as I’ve enjoyed the singles they’ve slotted in between their albums to date, the long-form release is where the REPTOIDS truly excel—I’ll be spinning this endlessly for the foreseeable future. A vital act from the here and now, so do yourself a favor and take their trip.

Brandy Clown Pain / Rent Quest 7″

The worst job I ever had was working for a balloon wholesale company. As a result, I don’t like clowns. A song called “Clown Pain,” whether or not about literal clowns, strikes a positive chord with me. “Thank you for my clown pain.” Of course, I can relate to “Rent Quest” as well. BRANDY’s music is dirty and throbbing and relentless. It leaves you anxiously on edge. The vocals are rough and pleading. The whole thing is perfect.

Brandy The Gift of Repetition LP

We can all agree that 2020 sucks. For months, when I have been getting down or am feeling lethargic or just need a boost of energy, I have been putting on the first track off this album “(Wish You Was) Madball Baby” and it picks me right up. I cannot sit still nor stop singing along when it is playing. It instantly improves my mood and gets me ready to deal with the next onslaught of bullshit. “(Wish You Was) Madball Baby” starts with a dance-y drumbeat then the bass plays this catchy riff and we’re off. The dual vocals have a call-and-response slash anthemic quality and the two voices perfectly complement each other. I don’t know what it means to be “madball,” but I am pretty sure I am. I love this song! Total Punk got me hooked months before Gift of Repetition came out so I was eagerly awaiting its arrival. It does not disappoint. Although “(Wish You Was) Madball Baby” will always remain my song, the other songs on this LP have similar qualities. The catchy combo of the drums and bass with the aggressive singing and tingling guitar noises. Fun fun fun. One of the few things to be happy about in 2020.

Brutal Birthday Commotion EP

Bombastic, over the top, simplistic, noisy punk from Italy that sounds like a wall being knocked over. Kinda sounds like they are taking cues from early JESUS LIZARD at times, but I bet they’re not. Less cerebral and more grunting. Upon first listen, I didn’t care for this, but upon repeated spins the riffs kept coming out of the mire.

Cherry Cheeks Cherry Cheeks cassette

Another pandemic solo “band” and I’m not complaining. Total NW Indiana feels with a freak show keyboard that pops in when it wants. Bass drives this one, guided by rock solid jerk punk drums and freak show riffs—it’s weird as hell and more addictive than it should be. I feel like the syrup from CHERRY CHEEKS is gonna clog your earholes, because it gets sticky as hell on tracks like “Two Bugs” (“We’re just two bugs on a strawberry / We’re just two bugs on a blackberry”) and you’ll never get these hits off of your fingers. Fans of LIQUIDS, BLURT, SPITS and the like need to dig into these sounds pronto.

Cherry Cheeks CCLPII LP

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.

Civic Selling Sucking Blackmail Bribes / Velvet Casino 7″

Another postulating sore of putrid punk’n’roll from the ever-reliable Florida outlet Total Punk. On this one, Aussies CIVIC put the pedal through the floor of a rusted Holden GTS and burn rubber down Footscray back roads to the sounds of an in-the-red fourth generation tape of hyper-kinetic, blistering meathead garage. Blown-out guitar solos that barely hold it together, shredded vocal chords, caveman-on-ice drumming, what’s not to love?

Curleys Curleys cassette

Are you folks here to fuck around? Because CURLEYS sure as hell ain’t! These Gainesville cretins only have one setting—full fucking on—so, once this record gets going, it’s not stopping until your stupid head is crushed completely flat. The eleven tunes on here find the band sounding like a methed-up TEENGENERATE ripping through a set of MODERN WARFARE covers inside a giant novelty plasma globe, and the vocals are quacky as hell but still retain just the slightest bit of tunefulness, kinda like the singer of the CARBONAS doing an impression of fellow Total Punkers the SLEAZE. Everything about this record feels hectic and out-of-control, but it’s actually being delivered with blinding, pinpoint accuracy—it’s the aural equivalent of stepping in the ring with Sugar Ray Leonard in his prime. Highest of recommendations!

Curleys Johnny EP

The label describes them as Gainesville cretins, and I think that’s about right. The kind of people who lurk in the dark corners of the club until it is their turn to play, and then disappear back into the shadows when they’re done. Thrashy and messy. PAGANS at 78 RPM with a brattier attitude. Six songs in about as many minutes. There’s no time for messing around. Cool.

Cut Piece Your Own Good LP

This is an absolutely devastating debut from Portland’s ferocious CUT PIECE. Eleven tracks of concise punk that writhe with impassioned anger and pull from sources rarely tapped. Lightly overdriven, chorus-imbued guitars trace the perimeter of a sonic terrain that undulates with departing bass lines, desperately frenzied drums, and searing vocals, binding everything together within a unified field. A bleak coldbeat energy is co-opted by less dour anarcho and peace punk influences, like a melding of PART 1, ZOUNDS, and POISON GIRLS, piped into a modern context. Both imaginative and immediate, Your Own Good feels like a natural synthesis of vision coming from members of heavy hitters such as RED DONS and ERA BLEAK. Every cut is top-shelf, but I found myself particularly drawn to the discomfiting vibration of “Walk the Dog,” and the sax-laden closer “GUGI.” This one will undoubtedly be in heavy rotation for a good while.

Ervin Berlin Junior’s Got Brain Damage / Last Time 7″ reissue

A psych-punk obscurity from Florida at the dawn of the ’80s, fished out and reissued. The A-side is a chunky-riffed caveman boogie about a drug-addled youth who liquefied his lobes on ‘ludes and dust. The B-side is lyrically loose, acting mostly as spotlight for the guitarist’s high, widdly-widdly fuzz-face solos.

Foster Care El Abuso LP

Speedy hardcore with a no-hope vibe, and a vocalist whose thick NY accent that reminds me of the MOB (NY) of all things. It’s mostly straightforward, but they throw in some experimental aspects from time to time, along with a noise interlude. The second side is considerably better than the first, so you might want to even listen to that one first.

GG King Remain Intact LP

Have you ever gone into a hippie-ish coffee shop and gotten one of those homemade calorie-dense, no-bake energy bars? They’re full of seeds and nuts and dates and shit and are held together with peanut butter or maybe chocolate. All of the ingredients are unadulterated and easily identifiable but mixed in such a way that you get a taste of every element in each bite, and they combine to make a distinct treat that’s both nutritious and delicious. GG KING albums are kind of like that with their genre influences, and this latest LP, their third, is no exception. Throughout, you can hear KIDS-esque Euro punk, power pop, garage punk, horrorcore, deathrock, metal—but it’s never presented as simply as “Here’s our take on CHRISTIAN DEATH.” All those ingredients appear wholly present and unaltered, but they’re mixed into something rich and distinctly GG KING. This LP maybe feels more mature than their previous efforts—not in a “they’ve finally figured out their sound” kind of way, but more that the record’s tone—sonically and lyrically—feels a bit more grown up…or maybe I’m just being influenced by the fold-out photo of the band and their families on the insert. I was really bummed when Rich from Total Punk announced that he was throwing out his stamp pads and no longer putting out 7″s. But if he continues with this shit-hot streak of LPs, maybe it’s for the best.

Heavy Metal IV: Counter Electrode Iron Mono 2xLP

Is HEAVY METAL heavy metal? Nope, but that’s old news. They’re not really punk either, except that they totally are. I don’t even want to ruin the breadth of surprises on this 2xLP vinyl pressing by describing the tracks. Spurts of perfect lo-fi garage punk meld into and stomp through dance pop, experimental electronic, post-punk, shambling C86 pop, and hip hop, all peppered with found-sound non-sequiturs. It shouldn’t work, but it flows so well, like a mixtape from a cultured and weird friend who gets to everything just a little sooner than you do. I was sold from the first ten seconds of the funky, BS2000-style drum break of opener “Savagely Beaten by Funk” and rewarded for the next hour. HEAVY METAL throws all popular music and sick modern culture into a blender, and we are fortunate to drink from its nectar. Get into it—Total Punk is only doing one pressing.

Heavy Metal Too Oz 4 I.T. EP

After three LPs of rambunctious and oddball punk jingles, this Berliner/Australian combo gets the lightweight, red-stamped Total Punk sleeve treatment, and it suits them well. “Underground Agent,” “Overtime,” and “Schweinebastard” sound like a nine-year-old having a temper tantrum in the middle of older brother’s band practice. “Gasmask Factory II” uses electronic drums for a truly groove-worthy experience. While I’ve enjoyed their previous shitty-good music, I think this smaller dose works better. Those already acquainted with HEAVY METAL will not likely change their opinion either way.

Heavy Metal V: Live at the Gas Station Fighting the Devil LP

I’ve never been too smitten with this band. I picked up their first LP back in 2016 after a punk distro or two said it was good, and, while I didn’t dislike it, it just never clicked with me. Mainly, I found the record confusing. With the bald over-the-topness of the songs and vocalist’s delivery falling somewhere between SLEAFORD MODS and the EDGE OF ETIQUETTE, I assumed that these guys were from the UK and probably fake, fake punk. But then I saw they were from Berlin—not a city or music scene known for its playfulness (or British accents)—so, like, what’s their deal? Turns out the band is made up of (at least) Jasper Hood (the BLACK JASPERS, SHAKIN NASTIES), originally from the UK, and Itchy Bugger (ITCHY BUGGER, DIÄT), originally from Australia. Jasper’s vocals don’t seem to be a bit (he sounds like this on every record he sings on), but maybe the band is. Whatever. I still didn’t love the songs and ducked out after that LP. Fast-forward to 2021: my compulsion to acquire every Total Punk record trumps my indifference to the band, and I grab this LP. Turns out it’s quite good! I think going in with that same indifference helped me to just sit back and hear this record for what it is—a collection of well-crafted songs that cover ’77 punk, glammy bubblegum, punksploitation, and contemporary weird punk. It’s good enough that I might even have to revisit their back catalog. If you only listen to one track, make it “Gebrannte Amore”—a cover of ELVIS’s “Burning Love” that they transform into a FIRST BASE-styled trashcan pop track.

ISS Too Punk for Heavy Metal EP

It’s too silly and too brilliant at the same time. You know the story. The label guy ignored the band when they were unknown, then he wants to do a record with them. Instead of holding a grudge or talking shit about him behind his back or telling him to fuck off, ISS writes the story in song and lets him release it. They also print the lyrics on the front of the record cover in case the listener can’t make out any of the details. The best revenge is that “Too Punk for Heavy Metal” is such a catchy song, I can’t stop playing it. The epitome of what punk should be—fun, obnoxious, rockin’ and witty. “Are you really sure you deserve ISS? I’m not.” And good on the label for releasing it. Cool to see both sides have a sense of humor. The other two songs are extra-short, but still as super catchy and fun. Are they both also about Richie from Total Punk Records? Could be. I love this record (and all of ISS’s stuff).

Itchy and the Nits The Worst of LP

More stripped-down than a nudist on holiday, ITCHY AND THE NITS blast out twelve cuts of cave-beat rock’n’roll simplicity. Absolutely minimalist in their approach, it turns out that the “worst of” their output is actually pretty great. No time for bozos or searching around for that fourth chord, this power trio from Down Under gets straight to the point with their brand of budget rock bangers à la THEE HEADCOATEES or the DELMONAS. Not a single song breaks the two-minute threshold! Gritty, charming, and imminently replayable, there’s even a GIZMOS cover. What more could you possibly need?

Knowso Like a Buzz / Physical Freak 7″

The ’90s revival continues. KNOWSO perform robotic, kinetic nerd punk: descendants of DEVO, but with a sound that’s part NOMEANSNO, part SERVOTRON. The two short songs here form a perfectly digestible snippet of pocket-protector punk.

Musk Animal Husbandry / The Floor 7″

This is some seriously depraved shit in the best of all possible ways. You can picture these people drinking babies’ blood from a goat’s head chalice instead of morning coffee. Stu-Spasm-like vox over a delightful cacophony of sludge and those trippy HAWKWIND-like squirps and swirls, and that’s just the title track. “The Floor” is a roadhouse anthem in Hades bludgeoning forth from the nether regions to drag the lost testicals of the Lizard King back down with its last notes. Like a long night of smoking wasp spray. I am spent.

New Buck Biloxi Cellular Automaton LP

Okay, so first things first: the NEW BUCK BILOXI is pretty similar to the old. And thank god for that. This is like the motorik equivalent of pissed, pop-structured garage punk, with everything tuned for maximum efficiency and impact. Here, BILOXI’s (a.k.a. Robert Craig) voice takes on the sort of detached android quality one might expect given the album title, which lends an almost inhuman edge to the hopelessness on display, especially in tracks like the all-too-relatable “My Hole.” What made Craig’s previous output so legendary is all still here, but reduced down into a demiglace of nihilism. Super condensed, end-of-world self-mythologizing at its pinnacle. If you don’t love it, you’re probably a loser—them’s the rules.

Predator Spiral Unfolds LP

After dropping the great GG KING record just a couple of months ago, Total Punk pulls a “While I’ve got you guys…” and ends up with a new LP from the other unsung heroes and elder statesmen of Atlanta’s punk scene, PREDATOR (who share two…maybe three members with GG KING). It’s technically their first LP since 2014’s The Complete Earth, but you’d be forgiven for not recognizing that, seeing as how one of the main creative forces behind the band, Brannon Greene, has also dropped a slew of records with his other projects NAG and GET HIGH BOYS—bands that sound similar enough that I (a true Predhead sicko) would have trouble differentiating were you to randomly play their songs at me. What’s maybe most surprising about this LP is how much it stands apart from previous PREDATOR releases (and other Brannon projects). There’s still plenty of the nihilistic post-punk-tinged hardcore that these guys have been delivering since 2009(!)—and it’s still great—but this is a much more varied affair than what we’ve gotten from them in the past. “Confessional” features an honest-to-god vocal melody, and “Hands Reaching Out” (maybe my favorite track on the album) could even be described as gentle. It’s just great to hear a band that’s been around this long doing whatever they want while clearly staying the same band and having it turn out this good. Also, quite the handsome sleeve on this one!

Pyrex Pyrex LP

Hard to believe, but an eighth of an inch delayed the release of this debut LP from NYC noiseniks PYREX. It was supposed to drop earlier in the year, but a printing error caused the cover image to be ever-so-slightly off-center. Rather than roll with the punches, the band opted to reprint and delay. Were they being a little too particular? Probably. But if you ask me, they ultimately made the right choice. These matte covers on the reprint look a million times better than the glossy joints that Mr. Total Punk has since been using as distro packing fodder (and, to be fair, the off-center image did look shitty…although, I’m pretty sure the image on my copy is still a hair off). Anyway! This record is some pretty hot shit! Eight tracks of noisy punk very much in the same vein as aggro pummel punks like LAMPS, PAMPERS, and BRANDY. But it’s not all just brute force—there’s some finesse to their playing, particularly in the RIKK AGNEW-esque guitar lines that periodically bleed through the din. It gives the record more of a nihilistic edge that’s not too far from the vibes given off by fellow Total Punkers PREDATOR. Also, the vocalist employs a screaming howl to punctuate verses from time to time, and it’s one of the best I’ve heard since Hart was piercing eardrums with the HUNCHES. Real good stuff!

Schizos Banned! From the Hi Tone cassette

I want to make my own “If you don’t like SCHIZOS, fuck you” shirt. They’re such a refreshing band in that you know immediately if you’re in their corner or not. And if you’re not, friend, you should sip your beer elsewhere. This is beautifully unhinged and sounds shit-hot (I mean, recorded by Erik Nervous and mastered by Will Killingsworth, so no surprises there). There are very few groups that I’d rather hear a live recording of (I’m reminded of OBN III’s Live in San Francisco for the extra jolt of energy and the combative stage presence) and now I have another. And then there’s just the biggest dick-kicking cover of “Born 2 Be Wild” that actually manages to make me finally get that song. What this tape really gets across is that while the narrative is that this is totally unhinged, chaotic rock‘n’roll, this band is tighter than Rambo’s bowstring. Where I expected a sloppy, glorious blaze of glory, I got a band that knows exactly who they are and exactly how to blow up a stage. Heavy as hell. Wish I were there. Doubt I’d remember if I were.

Sick Thoughts Heaven is No Fun LP

Drew Owen has long since proven himself as one of the best songwriters of die-hard, old school rock‘n’roll. With this newest LP, he hasn’t just one-upped himself, he’s raised the bar on the whole fucking game. This record is eclectic, like a high-speed tour through everything that makes punk and rock music important to this day in under 30 minutes. From the straight-ahead nihilism of the opener “I Hate You,” through the anthemically evil “Mother, I Love Satan,” Owen demonstrates a mastery of genre and focus of vision that just hits in your bones. My personal favorite track, “EMP,” is the most evil blast of punk to hit my spine in years. It tips its hat to the mutoid malevolence of SACCHARINE TRUST’s Paganicons, while dragging it into the horrible pre-apocalypse we currently live in. I always thought of SICK THOUGHTS’ self-titled record as the gold standard of sneering, evil rock‘n’roll, but this unlucky collection of thirteen cuts handily clears that record. We’re in a new age of evil punk, and there’s even the almost tear-inducing “Someone I Can Talk To” love song(?) to offer a welcome depth to the whole affair. It’s a sort of victory lap within a triumphant record that belongs in the canon of great fucking rock records.

Smirk EP 12″

It’s only been about six months since the world was treated to the debut LP from this project, but SMIRK—Nick Vicario (PUBLIC EYE, CRISIS MAN) doing the solo recording thing—is back! This time you’re getting an EP’s worth of tightly written, loosely produced pop-speckled punk. The four tracks on the A-side are a nice continuation of what you got from his debut. Rhythmically, these tracks are absolutely locked-in. But the tape warble, garage jangle, and tuneless vocals make it feel as though these songs are otherwise on the verge of falling apart, giving off quite a cool SWELL MAPS vibe—particularly in the Krautrock-y stretch of “Precious Dreams”. The three tracks on the B-side really up the pop factor—”So Original” even throws in enough vocal melody to end up sounding like the MARKED MEN. Overall, this 12″ further establishes Nick as a nifty songwriter who warrants your attention in an increasingly crowded landscape of solo recording projects. Initial pressing of the LP is sold out at the source, so grab it if you run across one in the wild! Otherwise, be on the lookout for the upcoming repress.

Tee Vee Repairmann What’s on TV? LP

The Aussie one-man, Drew Owen-like multi-band force returns with his egg-punk power pop project TEE VEE REPAIRMANN. In case you’re ignorant or just don’t care about supportive plastic footwear, this is Ishka Edmeades, who does the genre-crossing neo-garage-meets-hardcore projects RESEARCH REACTOR CORPORATION and GEE TEE, among other popular combos. It’s pretty damn catchy, and old spiky punks might find themselves nodding along as they grumble. Besides the contemporary Mark Cone-ish correlation, this could be juxtaposed as a DEVO meets MIRRORS (CLE) meets the ONLY ONES being played in the mall scene in Valley Girl. “Time To Kill,” “Drowning,” and “Get Outta Here” are tops. It’s selling out as we speak, so don’t be a geek or embrace your inner one. Snag a copy today.

Tha Retail Simps Reverberant Scratch: 9 Shots in tha Dark LP

July was a blur, so somehow I missed seeing THA RETAIL SIMPS both times they played Portland on their West Coast tour. I’ve resolved that within myself by just listening to their record almost every day in August so far. When the rollicking piano starts on “Hit & Run,” you can tell the band is not afraid to boogie and create a groove. It’s rhythmically rare these days, since so many bands I hear in the punk world either wanna be stiff, be fast, be brutal, be technical, be anything but hip-shaking. “Love Without Friction” sounds like a no wave twist contest, leading into “End Times Hip Shaker Pts. 1 & 2,” which has a grindin’ riff like a ANDRE WILLIAMS B-side before giving it a lysergic dip into a fully fuzz-drenched freakout. “Dozen a Dime” cools it down with a downer folk bongo bummer, but the rave-ups continue in the last half. “Summertime” stands out with a nasty distorto biker movie riff and a fully fucked-up but funky clavinet solo, and it’s these juxtapositions and stylistic slurries that make the record stand out. The songs are strong enough on their own, but all the disparate sonic references give the music texture and character. THA SIMPS have made a record that’s loose, noisy, goofy, danceable, and weirdly one of a kind, full of reverence for rock’n’roll but not so studious as to take any of it too seriously.

The Archaeas Rock n Roll / Replica 7″

This Kentucky gang knocks it outta the park on the first pitch. ARCHAEAS’ sound centers on skull-streamlining—full forward-motion guitar riffs, rhythms jabbing outta the garage but careening too wildly to be saddled with that tag. Feels freer, younger, druggier and more genuine than much of what ya hear as of late. A cool and true two-prong hit here—A-side’s the good-time, B’s the head-crack—jammed with enough spirit to make the shittiest over-it puker smile through the chunks.  Cannot wait to hear more.

The Carp Knock Your Block Off LP

The CARP is from Cleveland, and I think I can hear some of the historic Cleveland bands embedded in their sound. At first quick listen, I wasn’t paying much attention until I started noticing that the bass sounded a bit like FLIPPER. After that, I started noticing song structures not unlike DEVO. I heard someone describe this as ’77 punk, but that’s not how I would describe it. This is bass-driven punk that can evoke memories of my first time listening to FLIPPER and the FEEDERZ, along with DEVO. The sound is nice and thick, and I imagine that it would work extremely well live. I don’t want to force this band into any one subgenre of punk because they are coming at us from all directions, doing whatever they want to do. It sounds great, I was playing air drums the whole time through several listens. Total Punk gives us another great record. This did indeed knock my block off.

The Celebrities Redd Karpet LP

Joe Sussman (NANCY, DANGUS TARKUS, and MUFF DIVERS) teams up with Kel Mason (GEE TEE) for an overseas email project—apparently a holdover from the days of COVID lockdowns. Looks like it’s Kel on drums and Joe on “everything else.” I’m not positive how the songwriting credits shake out, but I would assume it’s mainly a Joe joint, which had me a little worried going in because his projects have never really done it for me (while Kel’s frequently have). But this thing smokes! Seven tracks whip by in about a dozen minutes, covering a mix of unabashed Born Innocent-era RED CROSS worship, RAMONES-y punk pop, the QUICK’s proggy power pop, and HUBBLE BUBBLE’s nuclear bubblegum punk. Check out album highlight “Crackin’ Under Pressure”, which also feature Ishaka from SATANIC TOGAS and TEE VEE REPAIRMAN. Great track—great record!

The Judges Judgement Day LP

Every once in a while the universe presents me with a collection of sounds that resonate as if they were made specifically with my tastes in mind. Such is the case with the phenomenal debut LP from this screaming Australian blues-punk unit. The JUDGES obscure their scorching electricity with a smokescreen of soul-stirring riffage to create quite an addictive din. Distortion-laden stomps and jumping, jaded laments pour freely from these ten tight tracks, recalling old favorites and breathing new life into classic cult-rock concepts. If the first couple of jams fail to convince you, jump ahead to “Top Gun,” and that should do it. I hope the dude didn’t really trade his guitar for a bottle of booze as suggested on the cover, because I’m looking forward to seeing how this particularly hot shit evolves.

The Real Losers Good Clean Fun LP

Rescued from obscurity by the esteemed Total Punk, it’s the unreleased intended second album from the REAL LOSERS! And it’s an old-fashioned smoker for all you garage freaks out there. Fed on ’70s sleaze and forged in the apex of the budget rock movement back in the early ’00s, these fourteen blown-out tracks deliver raucous and rocking ’90s-style punk in the lineage of early MAKERS, REATARDS, the REDS, CHINESE MILLIONAIRES, et al., channeling the likes of TEENGENERATE and CLONE DEFECTS in places. It’s down, dirty, and to-the-point rock action. They’ve got a real knack for making their simplicity so filthy, and they’re not afraid to shake a tambourine. Just when I thought the well had run dry on this kind of stuff, I get smacked with this banger. It’s easily one of the greatest revelations of the year thus far, right next to realizing that the fantastic KÜKEN are the same dudes from later-era Rip Off Records act the KIDNAPPERS! Who knew?

Theee Retail Simps Live on Cool Street LP

Montreal’s premier slop rock act returns with another heaping helping of loose proto-punk, this time ditching most of the mid-’60s R&B influence of their debut in favor of some late ’60s/early ’70s sounds. Thanks to some STONES-y ballads, a horn section (if you can call two dudes with three horns a section), backup singers, and some budget funk thrown in among the Raw Power-ed spin age blasters, Live on Cool Street has more of an AOR vibe. Even their VELVET UNDERGROUND influence seems to have shifted out more toward Loaded or solo LOU REED. It’s tempting to say they’ve matured, but of course they haven’t. Just listen to a track like “The River,” one of the aforementioned ballads (not to mention an album highlight), and you’ll hear what I’m talking about. The first fifteen seconds of the song seem to signal a new, gentler direction for the band, but then the vocals kick in and it’s clear these are the same greasy party rockers who brought you that last record. They’re just letting some of their dad-ish influences show. And it works! This record rules.

Thine Retail Simps Strike Gold, Strike Back, Strike Out LP

On this third full-length album, the RETAIL SIMPS remain an anomaly, serving up an uninhibited procession of jams that impedes succinct description. Christened with a new iteration of their ever-evolving name (which Discogs has mercifully compiled as a single artist,) this record is decidedly less traditionally cohesive than the previous two LPs with its mix of zappers, stewers, and instrumental breaks. Here you’ll find elements of old-fashioned boogie-woogie, barked poetry invoking the spirit of HOMOSTUPIDS, the herk and jerk of an off-kilter sonic threshold not unlike that of TYVEK, and other unlikely ingredients, all bookended with themeage including a rousing rendition of “Disco Duck” on the outro. But the space the SIMPS serenade is a grimy way station for rock’n’roll holdouts from decades past; a weird zone where shaggy 1960s garagers, cigarette-lipped 1970s longhairs, 1980s art school students, and guys who look like the saxophone player from the Muppets brush shoulders in passing with drinks in their hands. In this brilliant swamp of sound, they sometimes come across as the world’s most delusional party band, sometimes like a fentanyl-laced GRATEFUL DEAD, and occasionally like art-punk auteurs in the vein of LE SHOK (see: “Prismic Dangle”), always keeping you on your toes and never resting on their laurels. It’s exactly the type of curiously addictive concoction you might expect from a band that covers both UNNATURAL AXE and NEIL YOUNG.

Total Hell Killed By Evil LP

The debut LP from this kind of supergroup featuring members of SICK THOUGHTS, STATIC STATIC, and others is a jewel that seems like an ’80s relic of demonic metal raw punk. Brutal, anthemic, and filled with a crusty aggression only to be found in ’80s heavy metal and raw crust punk from the same era (read: D-beat) here. Cursed vibe, cursed drag, plus an excellent string section and riff selection. Favorite tracks: “Demonized,” “Nuclear Satanic Warfare,” and “Banished to the Tombs” for a specially twisted experience. Putrid minds beware, this is gonna like you.

True Sons of Thunder It Was Then That I Was Carrying You LP

The TRUE SONS OF THUNDER 7″ that Goodbye Boozy put out a couplathree months back was a stoater, and this follow-up album (which reprises the single’s first and best song, “Shake Rag,” and the briefer, goofier “Toob Sock”) keeps the pecker flying high. I say “follow-up” like this release schedule was the product of a laser-targeted promotional drive, but given these Memphis fellows took the best part of a decade to throw this together, we’re probably lucky we got one TSOT rekkid let alone two. This is an excitingly cloudy tonic of post-ELECTRIC EELS/FLIPPER/BUTTHOLES party sludge with a paw or two dipped in the honey jar of Southern rawk and the freakier fringe of ’90s garage punk. Plenty of five-minute-plus cuts here, and not much hyper tempo, but unquestioned reserves of energy — and they’re a crack unit, too, swerving all over the road on the likes of “Get A Hold To It” but always sounding on each other’s wavelength.

V/A Inkstains Across Atlanta cassette

Tired of digging through a wobbly stack of 7”s to find music by your favorite Atlanteans, only to put on a record that you then have to get up and flip a minute and a half later? There has got to be a better way! Introducing Ink Stains Across Atlanta, a collection of every Total Punk 7” by an Atlanta-based artist—fifteen songs on a single cassette! Total Punk? More like Total Convenience! Set adrift down the river of despair with GG KING’s “Joyless Masturbation,” soak in the healing aura of SLUGGA’s “Parasite,” experience pure ecstasy as the music of any one of a myriad of Brannon Greene-fronted projects (PREDATOR, NAG, HOSPICE) fills your ears, or journey into the unknown with a handful of unreleased and non-Total Punk tracks. To order this collection, take $7, wad it in a ball and put it in a bag with a SASE, and send it to Total Punk HQ, or simply log on to totalpunk.com using the browser of your choice.