For review and radio play consideration:
Please send vinyl (preferred), CD, or cassette releases to MRR, PO Box 3852, Oakland, CA 94609, USA. Maximum Rocknroll wants to review everything that comes out in the world of underground punk rock, hardcore, garage, post-punk, thrash, etc.—no major labels or labels exclusively distributed by major-owned distributors, no reviews of test pressings or promo CDs without final artwork. Please include contact information and let us know where your band is from!
Pop-punk with twangy guitar parts that was all the rage with the Fest crowd some years back. From what I gather, everybody contributes vocals individually, but the magic happens when they harmonize. Good stuff. Bonus points for having a song called “Wrestlemania VIII”!
Relentless 1-2-1-2 stomp driving short bursts of hardcore punk that lands between Riot City and NAKED AGGRESSION. Male and femme vocals bark back and forth while this trio plays music like a snotty teenage kid on a skateboard plowing through a sidewalk filled with stooges trudging to the office. Guitars are more advanced that the record implies (check “Descent of Dissent” in particular), which gives the band a bit of the Midwest basement gnarl that I love—eleven tracks in all, and they wrap things up so fast that they just repeat ’em on the flip side.
MUTABOR! emerged from the thriving experimental art and music culture of early ’80s Berlin, after Bettina Köster of MALARIA! and Gary Asquith of REMA-REMA first met at a BIRTHDAY PARTY show in London; Asquith was inspired enough to relocate to Germany so that they could start a project together, with Köster’s MALARIA! bandmates Manon Duursma and Gudrun Bredemann eventually joining up as well. The two tracks on this 1982 12″ are the only recordings from the short-lived group, and it’s fairly easy to connect the dots between Two Wishes, REMA-REMA’s rhythmic, industrial-flirting brutalist drone, and MALARIA!’s dark electronic post-punk drama. A-side “1001 Nights” is a total No Wave collision, the aural equivalent of a shattered teacup reassembled with glue (clearly fractured, but precariously held together)—saxophone skronk, rickety organ, clattering auxiliary percussion cutting in against the bare-bones cymbal-free drumming, multiple monotone voices intersecting with each other, and only the briefest shocks of guitar. “Treats” is even sparser, a series of emotionally detached phrasings backed by little more than a few sax squeals and some BAD SEEDS-anticipating piano that’s mirrored by sinister six-string noise. Bleak as hell, but definitely an interesting link in the evolutionary chain of severe ’80s art-punk.
Full-length album of alt-rock, indie rock, and modern pop-punk. It’s not that POPE JOAN isn’t a good band, or the songs are bad or anything, they just seem maybe a little too happy and a little too relaxed to really make a lasting impact. Even pop-punk bands need a little bit of grit to them, don’t they? Anyways, it’s poppy, it’s catchy, and there’s an Uncle Buck sample on it.
RIOT STONES are mentioned in a few articles as being one of the first HC bands from Morocco—emerging in 2015, they released this tape themselves, and to be quite honest I have no clue if they’re still active. What’s on display here is aggressive, stomping hardcore that, just like the title implies, makes ample use of breakdowns and mosh parts. Emerging as late as 2015 whilst still having the title of first HC band in Morocco raises more questions than answers, and the snippets of information I could dig up about their scene lamented the closure of a local youth centre in Casablanca, leading to the demise of multiple bands. Regardless, what you’ll hear won’t break any musical boundaries, or reinvent the wheel as it were, but it is a fun listen from some genuinely fucked-off kids who deserve credit for kicking open a door for (hopefully) others.
I nearly forgot about Tokyo’s premiere punk weed enthusiasts, which isn’t actually that weird considering their last release came out 20 years ago! It may be my jaded attitude to approaching new releases, or my ignorance of the Japanese hardcore world these days but somehow I was not expecting this to slay as hard as it does. Truly impressive, furious and powerful shit that immediately earns a spot on the shelf next to my favorite CRUDE and FORWARD releases. ROCKY AND THE SWEDEN has a unique penchant for incorporating their passion for ganja into both their aesthetic and demands for freedom and liberation. Some might think this is cheesy but I’d argue that their authenticity is undeniable given how long this theme has endured, along with consistent quality of output. For me it’s all about the aural impact and the great songs, jackhammering drums and searing guitar leads that somehow conjure feelings of hope, where there honestly are none these days. This limited US pressing was intended for a 2020 US tour (that obviously didn’t happen) and, like toilet paper and PS5s, was panic-bought and is already going for inflated prices, so enjoy it anyway you can!
Pure, dreary lo-fi pop injected with a(n over)dose of damaged freak trash. STREET MAGIC wants you to love them, but keep making you question your own taste. I can only imagine a live manifestation fraught with confusion, but captured on tape this Seattle outfit is like a gift from the space gods. Choice cut “Communion” is worth the price of admission on its own, especially coming after the moonless desert excursion “TOYL” that opens the second side. Sounds for a (the) next generation to enjoy today.
Eight tracks of thrashed-out hardcore perfection originally released as a demo at the turn of the century, deservedly pressed on 7″ format. From the border town Laredo, TX, situated equidistant between San Antonio and Monterrey, VICIO’s outrage at racist domestic terror, dehumanization, and attention to addiction and abuse is forever relevant. They explore complicated issues, vulnerably conveying frustration with the way their people choose to assimilate to survive and thrive in American society, white people in their community panhandling, and perception of self-worth in an overwhelmingly xenophobic society. Their sound unmistakably compares to some of the most timeless and influential Latinx hardcore bands like CRUDOS and SIN ORDEN, with a distinct rawness that often comes though best on a band’s debut. I long for this kind of unapologetic, inspiring punk that hits so hard, while I acknowledge this level of outrage sadly only comes from real struggle. A total Lengua Armada-styled layout (Martin S. credited in the liner notes) rounds the whole thing out, further making this an essential pickup.
Former EX vocalist G.W. Sok started ZOIKLE almost ten years ago, but they’ve effectively been on hiatus since 2013 and this LP is the group’s first release since their debut 7″ in 2011, collecting fourteen recently fleshed out demos and fragments of songs that were started (but never finished) before that lengthy break. During his time with the EX, Sok helped set the bar for wildly smart and creative avant-punk over the course of three decades, and in more ways than not, ZOIKLE is a natural continuation of the outside-the-box approach that the EX had really come into by the early ’90s. Those familiar spoken/ranted vocals are still central, backed here by an ascetic foundation of cello, guitar, and drums scratching out a perfectly high-anxiety clamor—the presence of the cello invites some obvious parallels to the collaborative albums that the EX did with TOM CORA, with songs like “Happy” and “Waiting” leaning into Dragnet-era FALL/early MEKONS-ish pointed friction, while “Gangrene” and “4Q” throw in some busted-up electronics for a slightly more technologically-aided take on ramshackle art-punk. I can’t really think of many other people actively creating punk music today with this long of a completely unfuckwithable track record…
A four-way split cassette on a 30-minute tape. DESASTYR really lives up to their name playing some strange combination of noise/jam/punk/No Wave/free jazz/something or other. It’s kind of like hanging out at Guitar Center, to be honest. I do love the photo of Weng Weng on their portion of the insert, however. DOWN//OUT is more discernible, playing post-apocalyptic crust-infused metallic punk. BOZGOR keeps it the most straightforward of the bands on this comp, delivering fast D-beat. DREKAVATZ closes out the tape with a mixture of cheesy metal riffs and mid-tempo black metal, revving up a little faster from time to time. It’s actually the most enjoyable of the tape and I couldn’t help but bop around to it a bit. All in all, an incredibly bizarre four-way split. I can find no information about this online, but with the tape being a run of only 35 tapes, once all four bands had their copies and review copies were mailed out I can’t imagine the label would have had many to sell.
BIG GRUMP is a noise rock band from Memphis, TN that I have to assume is now no longer together based on the feeling of finality this tape has. The Complete Recordings is exactly what it sounds like, the complete recorded discography of the band. Mixing equal parts heaviness and mathy riffs, BIG GRUMP is able to keep my attention through the entirety of the cassette without ever crossing the threshold into being too artsy. If they are in fact broken up, what a bummer. If not, I look forward to more releases from them.
Band of Philadelphia veterans (KISS IT GOODBYE, CAVALRY, the CURSE, loads more) team up for a supergroup of sorts, and drop a debut that sounds like a band made up of…well, a band of seasoned veterans. Emotional intensity reminiscent of MOSS ICON or NAVIO FORGE, delivered with a gritty, heavy guitar-driven attack that actually feels like an attack—guitars right up front and fighting through the speakers for the chance fight you, while Singer (DEADGUY, KISS IT GOODBYE) fucking writhes his way through the words. It’s an astonishingly mature initial release, even considering the members’ collective pedigree.
The classic first album by this legendary Southern California band gets a fancy reissue on new label Trust Records. It’s been remastered and includes a 12″x12″ booklet full of photos, flyers, and anecdotes by a plethora of well-known fans and contemporaries. In addition to the original tracks, this new version also includes five bonus rehearsal demos taken from a boombox recording. In all honesty, these tracks, while cool, are not necessary and probably should have been left off this LP and instead been released on a bonus 7″, as they kinda throw off the listening experience of this record. All in all, if you’ve got the loot to spend and don’t already own a copy of Group Sex or if your copy is need of an upgrade, if I were you I’d spring for this version. (I believe that Frontier still keeps this album in print.)
Armed with an awesomely warped buzzsaw guitar attack, Raleigh’s CTRL GROUP serves up a tight set of intense and creative hardcore on this tape. The singer’s got a strong set of pipes on him, which he uses to deliver repetitive lyrics with a maniacal melody Á la Serj Tankian. Fun stuff, and I imagine this band is deafening live.
More than a decade after the band’s demise, the second EP from GUNS N’ ROSA PARKS has materialized. I saw GN’RP in 2011, and they took the roof completely off the joint (“joint” in this case was a sports and/or dive bar)—just a ball of energy looking for somewhere to blow. This EP captures that—ten bursts of bare-bones and no-nonsense hardcore punk that give casual nods to their influences (to hear Police-era FUCKED UP and Break Down The Walls sneak out of back-to-back tracks is to feel yourself get stoked), but ultimately presents as nothing more than what they were: a hardcore punk band from Denver, Colorado. As something of a delayed and/or retrospective release, No More Unity fukkn nails it—top-tier hardcore packaged in a gorgeous twelve-page booklet packed with lyrics, photos, and flyers spanning the band’s existence. On the one hand, to see an underappreciated outfit get given the deluxe treatment like this just feels right. On the other hand, give me the breakdown to “No More Unity II” over most of the hardcore I’ve heard this year.
Some magical electr(on)ic space freak punk that you can dance to. That you will dance to. Ghosts of the FAINT, MARTIN REV, and FAD GADGET crash headfirst into cold ’70s Scandipunk and if you have a heartbeat then you’re just helpless…until the beats drop and then even the dead will hit the floor. I hadn’t heard from this Finnish duo since 2018’s Dolce Vita, but suffice to say that they’ve grown into their own sonic skin in those short years, and Antipsykootti is the complete package. Highest recommendation.
A split 7″ featuring two songs each from two representatives of Japan’s contemporary post-punk underground, NICFIT from Nagoya and M.A.Z.E. from Tokyo. NICFIT has been around since 2009, which is long enough that they still technically have a Myspace page, and while they may or may not have lifted their name from a SONIC YOUTH (cover) song, they’ve definitely picked up on some of their arty, free-noise guitar damage. It’s not full-on screwdrivers in strings, though; there’s also a pull toward the whiplash energy of Dangerhouse-era L.A. punk that was a little more apparent on some of their earlier releases (they covered SUBURBAN LAWNS on a 2014 EP), and plenty of nods to the freaked-out flailings of the more transparently No Wave-inspired Load Records bands. On the flip, M.A.Z.E. builds a ramshackle bridge between Japan and the US Midwest, bashing out wound-up, halting rhythms citing the same ’80s oddball DIY/punky new wave references that have been central to the Lumpy Records brand—a label that, not surprisingly, put out a M.A.Z.E. 12” not long after this 7” surfaced last year. Props to both bands for avoiding the always risky “uneven quality of sides” pitfall inherent to the split single format.
Ambient indie/shoegaze from Tijuana, Mexico. Five long, pretty, meandering songs, two of them clocking in at over six minutes. As the tape began, I thought it was going to be all instrumental soundscape stuff, which had my interest and was pretty intriguing, but it only lasted the introduction to the first song. The packaging of this really caught my eye and it was the first tape I popped on when receiving my box of demos to review. A double-cassette case which looks like a miniature DVD case, fold-out lyric sheet, and a live photograph of the band. The packaging really is lovely.
Dripping with sarcasm and venom, NEKRA spit out five tracks of vicious HC, easily switching between fast-as-fuck aggression and stomping mid-paced choruses. These tempo changes and snotty vocals manage to yield some of the catchiest punk I’ve heard from London in some time, while not losing an ounce of that raw energy that made their 2017 demo such a fuckin’ rager. Recommended.
What is there to say about one of the most classic 45s of all time?! Up there with the UNDERTONES Teenage Kicks for total power and feeling and pure hooks, with a desperate message direct from the heart to the minds of the youth ready for new sounds and visions. A deconstructed pop dream made with just the bare essentials; that nervous guitar and shattered rhythm and Nuggets/Bomp! California take on the ’60s invasion sound. A wild combination of ideas and ideals somehow making old dreams sound brand new. Anyway this is a pretty perfect reissue, a close to exact replica of the OG with a much lower price tag attached, except of course by the time you are reading this the reissue has sold out! And the really cool looking Japanese language version they made is long gone!
I loved the last LP from these art damaged miscreants; its wild snarl and catchy slump brought to mind strange adventures in anyone-can-do-it-core, a lineage of SWELL MAPS-ian slither. This one moves with a different feeling, sort of less imminent collapse pop rambunctiousness and more a tense architecture of synth and guitar scrawl that maybe matches our unnerving era, relentless horror mapped out in a series of flatlining rhythms. It somehow reminds me of the RAINCOATS Kitchen Tapes meets TOTAL CONTROL?! Something about it is less immediately compelling to my mind—the sort of collapse in on itself pop fervour of the first record was a fever dream whereas this one is much more spectral somehow?! It’s a great record, but feels more distant music from the room next door than the immediate savage hammer to my mind of the first. I think this will become a record I return to relentlessly but right now it’s more of a question mark.
Pure and simple: this Buffalo band cranks out infectious and addictive music. There are worlds where people will call it indie, post-punk, college rock…but goddamn if it doesn’t just hit exactly right regardless of genre descriptor. Vocals are kinda like the first INTERPOL record (that’s a good thing, fight me), their approach is chill and confident at all times, and the guitars just burn the whole time, even when (especially when) they are delivering hooks that will stick with you for days. And then they drop the bridge in “Brain Flu” and it’s clear that these fellows are well versed in American Hardcore Classics and I’m like “yeah, I get it…y’all are just really good.” I can leave the schmaltzier cuts like “Bubble Yum” behind, but I can’t deny that they are absolutely on point. This tape came out last year, there’s a single that they dropped a few months ago (I peeked—read the lyrics—trust me), and all I’m waiting for is a full-length platter to spin on repeat for days.
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.
Third entry (of a planned five) in Iron Lung’s mysterious “Systemic Surgery” series. Aside from the limited run (only 200 copies pressed), deluxe packaging (hand-stamped labels, custom die-cut sleeves, risograph prints), and hitherto unheard-of bands (the first two entrants were from CLARKO and HOMELESS CADAVER), I have no idea what ties these releases together. At least Iron Lung was nice enough to let us know who’s behind the outfit this time—Oakland’s Greg Wilkinson (BRAINOIL, DEATHGRAVE, and Earhammer Studios). The title track is straight up SPITS worship that’s maybe a bit heavier on synths. The B-side also really leans on the keys and has more of a gothic pop punk vibe, in the vein of the HEX DISPENSERS. Neither cut is particularly memorable, and this stab at dum-dum lyrics needs more…or maybe less work. Recommended only for those Systemic Surgery completists out there.
I’m not exactly sure when meme-spawned punk sub-genre classifications first officially entered the unironic press material lexicon, but we might have reached peak egg-punk with the debut LP from SMARTS—there’s an “egghead” joke just waiting to be made there. As seemingly mandated in Australia, there’s substantial member crossover between SMARTS and a number of recent OZ DIY all-stars, some less eggy (PARSNIP) than others (AUSMUTEANTS, HIEROPHANTS, ALIEN NOSEJOB, etc.), and while Who Needs Smarts Anyway? isn’t a major departure from anything that the latter subset has produced, it does kind of seem like it could have been generated through a machine learning algorithm designed to come up with a prototypical band in this style. The sort of uptight, hardcore-velocity anxiety hammering employed by URANIUM CLUB, blaring new wave-via-Lumpy Records (by way of the DEADBEATS) sax that’s not nearly as abrasive or punctuated as this kind of panic-punk truly calls for, snotty rapid-fire vocals delivering lyrics focused on the omnipresence of pocket computers (“Smart Phone”), the minutiae of everyday life as expressed through household products (“Cling Wrap”), and the inescapable iconography of corporate culture (“Golden Arches”)—check, check, double check. Been searching for a band even more to the right of the CONEHEADS and UROCHROMES on the egg/chain spectrum?
Although I have been aware of TOUGH AGE for quite some time, for some reason this is the first I’ve actually heard them. At first listen, I was quick to write this off, but upon further investigation this record started to grow on me, and now it seems as though I have been missing out all this time. There’s a big time post-punk influence here underneath definite power pop vibes. Now if that sounds like a strange combination of sounds, it might be, but it works. I especially enjoy the contrast of the two vocalists. This is definitely gonna be in heavy rotation on my stereo for a while.
Miserable, crawling punk from Wellington, Aotearoa, UNRULY debut with a nauseous-sounding sludge record that channels a very particular kind of anxiety. They stay at a constant crawl but it’s when they finally break through into mid-paced territory that they really hammer a riff right into your skull. “Knuckle-dragging” is an often used whilst seldom accurate epithet ascribed to punk like this, but it really does fuckin’ pull ya along. Think blood stains and foul bucketbongs, black mould and chronic bronchitis.
Thirteen tracks of synth-heavy weirdo punk from Berlin, Germany. If I’m understanding things correctly, all the songs were recorded specifically for this sampler. This is incredible and all over the map within genres that I thoroughly enjoy. There’s fast punk stuff, raging hardcore, No Wave weirdness, and post-punk dirges, with synth being present on a majority of the tracks. After a few listens, I think my favorite tracks are by DIE BONZEN, GESTURE, and NIGHTMARE. I can’t wait to do my research and find out if any of those bands have more to offer as their tracks are super good.
Recorded live on KCSB radio on 10-25-2012. Hailing from Santa Barbara, CA, BECOME has the throwback Revolution Summer sound down perfectly. These songs are beautifully crafted, instantly familiar, and super well done, and all of this comes across even being performed live on a radio show. Personally, I probably would have cut out all of the horribly awkward banter with the radio host from the tape release of this, but to each their own. I see that the only other thing the band did was a demo tape on German label Take It Back Records, and I will be attempting to track one of those down now.
Fast, emotive, melodic punk with elements of crew and a heavy ’90s drive. An excellent mash of DC and SoCal hardcore with a solid ’90s > ’80s influence ratio—it’s great when they unleash in the middle of “Influence Me,” but the fleshy part of the song owes more to Revolution Summer than TEEN IDLES, if you know what I mean. And then there’s “Rungless Ladder,” which is just a top-notch, hook-laden Y2K burner…in-your-face guitars and a classically thin bass punch, while you can practically see the singer clutching his shirt in earnest while he screams. Presentations are on-point with doses like “We live a life of misinformation / They call us the lost generation”—these dudes know exactly what they are doing.
Pummeling hardcore out of LA that throws in some notes of death metal and powerviolence. For the most part though, this one is a mosh-inducing beatdown from chug number one. Now, metalcore isn’t normally my favorite style, but these breakdowns are so tough that even I’m feeling the urge to start throwing some karate kicks and punching the floor. The overall theme of embracing death cause life sucks comes off pretty well, too. I say give it a spin!
BIG BITE hails from Seattle, Washington and that fact is abundantly clear on their latest release Trinity. Eight tracks of fuzzed-out rock ’n’ roll that wouldn’t be out of place mixed in with your DINOSAUR JR. and SUPERDRAG records.
This is BROADWAY CALLS’ fourth full-length. They mix hard driving melodic pop-punk with catchy-as-hell hooks, and a nice line in sophisticated politics, with wordplay to match. They don’t like empire and authority, for all the right (as in left) reasons, and couch it in emotional anthems that wouldn’t sound out of place on the FALCON’s debut, or the LAWRENCE ARMS greatest hits roster, for that matter. Dark, yet poppy soundtracks for these times, for sure.
CHRONOPHAGE’s 2018 debut LP Prolog for Tomorrow skillfully synthesized a whole host of outsider pop influences from the past half-century (New Zealand’s Flying Nun/Xpressway scenes, scratchy UK post-punk, the weirder strains of vintage college rock, ’90s lo-fi indie, etc.) without it ever falling into a haphazard pastiche, and its follow-up Th’ Pig Kiss’d Album only further refines that kitchen-sink approach—a band clearly operating on a contemporary DIY punk wavelength and all that goes along with that, but sounding more like a deep cut from the late ’80s Homestead roster alongside SALEM 66 and MY DAD IS DEAD or something. “Absurdity” and “Any Junkyard Dreams” tilt toward brittle and skittish art-punk, with bassist Sarah’s soft-but-deadpan vocals drifting out over of squeals of damaged keys, “Talking Android” and “Siren Far Away” are slightly twangier Texan takes on the HUMAN SWITCHBOARD’s wiry ’60s garage/’80s post-punk duality, and “Heartstone” starts out in hyper-minimalist YOUNG MARBLE GIANTS/MARINE GIRLS territory and ends up (not far away) in the K Records-adjacent early ’90s pop underground. If you spent your formative years staying up all night to obsessively record tapes of college radio shows and/or 120 Minutes episodes (or if you imagine that you had, if you’re not of a certain age), it all makes perfect sense.
Satanic Queer Pizza UFO Punk? Not exactly. These northern Polish punks actually deliver a very progressive and anti-authoritarian message through a polished pop punk style akin to JAWBREAKER or pre-mainstream GREEN DAY. All the lyrics are translated to English and appropriately criticize the abhorrent ultra-conservative Polish government and a placated society. A bit of hopelessness, some humor, but altogether honest and in DIY fashion. Singer/guitarist Tytus does these great rocket-launch jumps, and they covered “Devilock” when I saw them on tour in 2018, both memorable attributes. Not the new hot shit you’re lookin to fly out with your Mastercard for the next punk-tourism festival, but DANZIGER seems to have established themselves as a staple of the Tricity (Gdańsk, Gdynia, Sopot) DIY punk scene.
If you don’t already know, Oklahoma City is a hotbed for hardcore punk. Wild, inventive, no rules—when no one cares, then you have the freedom to do what you want…and then people start to care. DRUJ dropped this (their third) tape earlier this year and I had listened countless times before it entered my “review assignments” email, so why am I at a loss for words? The guitar intro over the drum roll that starts “Die In Flames” sounds as shit-hot as it did the first time I blasted it, and the vocals are somehow even more disorienting, and I still sit slack-jawed at full volume, just blasting…and seething. DRUJ needs this, and you can feel it when vocalist آزيتا unleashes howls in “Jesus Wept,” setting the tone for four pieces of sonic nihilism. I could dissect each track, but an academic examination would cheapen the experience and this band deserves better than that. Give it to them.
Two-piece, lo-fi hardcore punk/queercore from Serbia. I was shocked to see that a drummer is listed as a member of the band. Considering how nasty the recording is, I had assumed it was a distorted drum machine. This is a wild ride. Four songs of incredibly pissed-off hardcore punk with song topics like calling for all the queer punks to come out and be proud, and being upset about not being able to masturbate in your room without getting in trouble. I think this is beautiful and I am honored to have one of the mere 25 copies that exist of this masterpiece.
Pure powerviolence. Five minutes, ten songs, more samples than I can count. Real West Bay shit. Only 500 copies pressed, so grab one if you’re into this style at all—it’s undoubtedly the best powerviolence record I’ve heard in decades.
This record delivers two terrific power pop numbers that take me right back to 1979. The A-side is a mellow, sort of funky little tune, with a bass line that draws you in and won’t let you go. It makes even an old dude like me feel like he’s got soul. The flipside is equally as catchy and also mid-tempo. It’s got a somber feel to it and leans heavily on the “pop” in power pop. You really owe it to yourself to go out and look for this one. Snappy Little Numbers is firing on all cylinders these days.
A reissue of a reissue, really: that ol’ SS Records singles/demos CD from a decade or so back gets a proper vinyl enshrining. No complaints, as this is some of my absolute favorite music from the era. Peripheral outsiders-among-outsiders, MONOSHOCK, along with compatriots like THREE STONED MEN and ICKY BOYFRIENDS, loitered SF’s early ’90s punk scene with their far-reaching, loud-ass psych-punk swirl. I mean, c’mon: they backed up VON LMO! What’s key to note here is that the same energy current and spirit heard in the locale’s finest punk/garage “Budget Rock” offerings are also central to MONOSHOCK’s sound—it’s instantly recognizable and forever endearing. Sonically, it’s all throbber/pumper rhythms, pure non-stop push and this jaw-dropper up-top guitar mindset that sprouts from Detroit but reaches for the spaceways. Real feeling, pure expression, no rules and lotsa fuckin’ power. Too many hits, too: “Hawkwind Show,” “Change That Riff,” the best RADIO BIRDMAN and MIRRORS covers ever, on and on across four sides. Kudos to Feeding Tube for re-releasing this mandatory odd/sods compendium for us to boil ’bout (again). Incurably loose and so fiercely punk. Highest recommendation!
In the years immediately following World War II, Clement Attlee’s Labour government passed the New Towns Act 1946. It was emblematic of the Attlee ministry, typified by a series of post-war rebuilding projects including the establishment of the welfare state and the nationalisation of large swathes of industry. One of these post-war “new towns” was Harlow, home of the NEWTOWN NEUROTICS. It’s perhaps the perfect place for a band like them to be from; a living monument to the last great socialist government projects, now left to rot by a Thatcherite systematic dismantling of society. This compilation contains NEWTOWN NEUROTICS’ first six singles, and tracks their movement from bop-along ’77 acolytes to the nakedly political polemicists they became. Steve Drewett’s BILLY BRAGG-esque syllabic contortions are the perfect vehicle for his three-minute manifestos railing against the injustices of the increasingly fascist society in which he found himself. Stand out tracks like “Kick Out The Tories” and “Fools” still remain sadly relevant and resonant, but it’s the version of “Mindless Violence / Andy Is a Corporatist” with ATTILA THE STOCKBROKER from the Son of Oi! comp which stays with you. The follies of being a far-right skin, and one perhaps for all the silly boys at the shows wearing their naughty merch thinking they’re a big man. An utterly vital record.
Noisy punk out of Budapest. Starts off promising enough. “Problem” is a ripping (if a tad generic) slice of garage punk with fantastic production—it’s trebly, sharp, immediate, and really fits what I imagine they’re going for (something along the lines of BLACK TIME). But that production is pretty much the only constant running through this cassette. It’s all certainly noise punk in some general sense, but it is as if they’re slathering that sound atop a different subgenre on each track. “AcsarorszÁ¡g” is noisy hardcore, “Glasshaus Zwei” is noisy metal, and “Promises (Still) Unkept” is noisy…emo! While that might sound interesting on paper, it never really clicked with me past the opening track. I don’t quite know what element to pin this on, but the whole tape kinda stinks of the late ’90s. I’m fine with that when it brings to mind late ’90s Load Records, but not so much when I get a whiff of AT THE DRIVE IN.
PÖLYKUU has an interesting sound. It’s ’80s college rock meets new wave meets jangle pop. Those go together, right? PÖLYKUU manages to make it work. It’s peppy, then it’s mellow. Add some distortion or an acoustic guitar. Now it sounds like the FEELIES or the EMBARRASSMENT. Is that a BAND cover? Whoa.
Essential listening for fans of fast hardcore, but you likely already know that. SCHOLASTIC DETH were kings of the Bay Area fastcore world—we knew that immediately after that show in the 924 Gilman Stoar. This band was such a complete machine—Josh looked like he was doing battle with his guitar while Chris laid down thunder with a casual confidence that was in conflict with the cloud of dust the band was kicking up, B’s ever so slightly off drum fills that roll into the breakdowns (and his blast beats, obviously). Max’s voice injected this adolescent honesty while so many were trying to growl out their anger, and his signature jerky/ladder riffs (yeah he’s the singer—but he played drums in the band I was in with him and I recognize those fucking riffs) are pure gold. They were smart, snarky…they were fucking fast. Everything is here—all the records, all the comps, and two unreleased cuts. Sometimes everyone loves the same band, and there’s a damn good reason why. So happy that this thing is finally out, even though you probably already have your copy.
One of the lost projects of Portland’s early ’00s neo-No Wave boom, SILVER PALM included members of adherents like SLEETMUTE NIGHTMUTE and GLASS CANDY (among others) and essentially lived and died over the course of 2003, in the period of time before off-center art-racket fell out of favor in the city once everyone discovered Italo disco. The seven tracks on this 10″ were sourced from a small-run CD-R demo that I have to assume stayed fairly local, so it seems timely for them to be given a wider release now that Portland has regained its reputation for producing this stripe of weirdo disjointed post-punk in the last few years. “Present Creature” dishes out isolated single-note jabs of guitar that give way to a mischievous KLEENEX-by-way-of-LUNG LEG gang chant, as the tense austerity of “Saline Smear” (which pares the drums down to what sounds like only a snare for most of the song) and “Alibi” (with its seasick rhythm and knot of rapidly overlapping vocals) calls back directly to the No Wave principle of liberation through reduction/de(con)struction first laid down by the likes of MARS and UT. Some more uncovered marginalia in the girl-punk historical record, awaiting your exploration.
Man. This brings me back. The first SNEAKY PINKS EP was on like non-stop rotation on my turntable for almost a year. Well, you get that classic and more on this new compilation LP. While none of the rest quite lives up to that EP for me, this is still a raging example of super trashy, non-wimpy, ultra-bratty garage punk. Think greats like PANTY RAID, BABY JAIL, the SPITS, and HUNX AND HIS PUNX. I think you get all their recorded output including some great and not-so-great covers here. You’ll be dancing it up in your padded confinement cell for sure. Ring the bell. It’s Jello time. It should be noted that Justin “Nobunny” Champlin has contributed to this band. While I have known and enjoyed his company in the past, sexual predation is unforgivable, hurtful, and deeply traumatizing on so many levels. It is seriously fucked up and is in no way condoned here.
Editor’s note: After Justin posted and then deleted his statement, at least two survivors came forward about their experiences with him, which are available to read at the @lured_by_burger_records Instagram account (heavy trigger warning for sexual assault and for grooming of underage kids), and which do not seem to be adequately encapsulated in Justin’s supposed admission. Goner has pulled the two Nobunny records they released, and it is disappointing that Almost Ready has not done the same with this LP.
Three tracks of great adolescent LA punk, produced and remastered by Geza X and rescued from obscurity by No Matrix Records. SNOT PUPPIES were a short-lived high school band but still managed to share bills with the likes of MIDDLE CLASS, the GERMS, and SCREAMERS. Collector scums already heard “T.V. Tantrum” and “Towel Song” (just called “Towels” here) on Killed By Death #13, and I can confirm that this official 7″ release was worthwhile and is essential for those gobbling up everything from the early LA punk scene. All three songs are delightfully bashy, fuck-up punk that fits nicely among the above mentioned bands, like a more inept DEADBEATS. Liner notes include all the memories and flyer scans necessary to make this an obvious pickup.
Certain records require listening at specific times of the day. I kept trying to listen to this LP in the evening and it just wasn’t working for me. Now listening to it on a cold-but-sunny Sunday morning while I drink a steaming cup of tea, it all makes sense. It’s like having a nice conversation. The vocals are sing-spoken in a relaxed tone while the minimalist music peppily and jerkily moves them along. It is jazzy math rock with art-punk musings. Not the New One is a collection of songs from many different versions of the group recorded between 2015–2019, but it does not feel disjointed. It keeps you entertained and even gets you out of your chair to dance a little bit.
Four originals and two DWARVES covers comprise this most recent release by the SPEED HUMPS from Ontario, Canada. The originals are all in the faster realm of mid-tempo as far as hardcore punk goes. This band appears to have three different vocalists, with both guitarists and the bassist sharing the duties. The vocalist that does a majority of the songs has barked discernibly yet choppy style, not unlike UNIFORM CHOICE. The second takes the lead on the incredibly confusing song “Dick Dungeon” (is it really about accidentally seeing some dude’s business in the bathroom of a bar?), and has a lower, growlier, Matt Freeman kind of gurgle to his voice. My favorite sounding of the three vocalists is the member who sings the two DWARVES cover songs. I can hear her chiming in singing backups in the originals, but she sounds super cool as the lead vocalist.
Unearthed 1996 recordings from this short-lived Essex band. Five quick tracks of noisy, dumbed-down punk ’n’ B. Sits somewhere between PUSSY GALORE’s garage-y din and early OBLIVIANS’ cro-magnon punk. Highlights are “R-E-V-E-N-G-E” and “Go Away,” the latter of which even sounds like an Eric O-penned tune. Maybe not an essential release, but certainly a welcome one! Fun fact: one of the guitarists on this release, Sam Knee, compiled the book A Scene In Between and runs the (great!) Instagram account @sceneinbetween, where he catalogs UK fashion and alternative youth culture from the ’80s indie scene.
