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!
Massachusetts NWOBHM-tinged battle Oi! Sort of like a more restrained SHIPWRECKED with some later SLAPSHOT and early DEF LEPPARD thrown in. It works on faster numbers like the opener “Spinning Wheels” but some of this plods on into mediocrity. Still overall not the worst thing you’ll listen to today, hopefully. Rock on mates!
Look, straight up, I’m really not into this. It’s definitely for someone, but I am not it. The gritty dirge of the guitar is pretty cool and adds a lot to their grunge sound. The guitar tone reminds me a lot of L7. But the droney, screechy vocals are totally annoying and sound way off key. Sometimes that works for me. Not here though.
From the really unfortunate band name and the label where this Swedish band resides, I was expecting yet another HELLACOPTERS/GLUECIFER worshiping band of posers. The kind with the fringe suede vests and iron crosses tattooed on their respective cocks. Instead I was maybe sorta kinda pleasantly surprised to find that in lieu of the usual STOOGES and MOTÖRHEAD worship, these Swedes choose to take their cues from the likes of FREE and classic-era UFO. With a singer capable of doing the Paul Rogers or Phil Mogg thing and a band that can play those licks, they are punk only in the fact that the longest song barely cracks five minutes. Imagine that great ’70s hard rock record you hide behind your “Dis” band collection. Instead of long, sprawling jams with flute and tabla solos, every song is condensed to an easily digested format barely clocking in at 20 minutes total. Favorite tracks are “In the Heat of the Night,” “Just For Fun” and “Eat the Poor.” A lot of this is cliche and self-indulgent but still, it’s nice to hear some “rock” in MRR.
Philly hardcore brutality with a raw, cavernous production. The pedal-augmented guitar tone unleashes some truly horrifying feedback screams. Stylistically, you could call it powerviolence, but it’s more bashy than chuggy—somewhere in between HERESY, INFEST, and YDI. Lyrically a bit tortured, written in the first person and with rich, damning vocabulary. A shock to the system.
DRUG VICTIM is a straight edge band from Plymouth in England. If I lived in Plymouth I’d probably be straight edge as well, if only as an excuse to avoid its pubs full of off-duty army meatheads. Mongrel, their second release, crams seven songs onto one side of a 7″, balancing lyrics roughly equally between the politicised (factory farming on “Bolt Cutter”; religion, or some iteration of it, on “Dynamite Money”) and the negative/introspective. You can guess from the artwork this isn’t gonna be your corny youthcrew type sXe: I reckon DRUG VICTIM would prefer to think of themselves more on a COKE BUST or VACCINE kinda tip, with thick sludgy sections breaking up the powerviolence tempos. Of the four labels co-releasing it, two are from the UK, one from the US and one from Spain, should that info aid your purchase.
LASSIE starts things out with three cuts, which remind me of early DEVO in many ways; they’ve got an electronic element, they’re catchy, and they’re a tad bit odd. I also like all three tracks quite a bit. Make no mistake about it, this is punk rock. EX WHITE follows things up with four cuts of their own. Faster paced and without the same level of electronics, they’ve got a similar sound in the sense that it’s a tad bit odd and it’s extremely catchy. This is definitely worth looking for, but the Bandcamp page indicates that it’s sold out.
Previously released without a picture sleeve, Feel It Records has reissued this ultra-rare nugget with some enticing art and two previously unreleased tracks. I was previously unaware of this. The story goes: in 1983, three fresh-faced skater kids from Cross Lanes, West Virginia get introduced to some classic punk, get some instruments, play some parties and school events, record seven tracks in a studio, release two of them on a single limited to 200 copies, and then break up. The overall vibe of these tracks is somewhat limp, but the adolescent charm saves it as a historical document. That said, none of this material is going to be featured on my next mixtape or played on my non-existent DJ night. Still worth the top-quality release treatment for posterity’s sake.
This is really fucking good. After a rather throw-away hip hop opening, this disc really hits the ground running. Full bloody tilt. They meld that NorCal melodic punk sound with some ska-steady moments (minus the horns of course), and a healthy dose of raw-throat pop. At its height (and there are mostly highs here), it’s eerily reminiscent of the FALCON and STAR FUCKING HIPSTERS…neither of which are NorCal bands, I readily concede, but I can’t really think of much greater praise.
Hard, moustachioed, denim jacket with enamel pins all-dude action, to give these Finns their full title. Their Hot Wired Beat LP was some pretty solid garage-rock-that-emphasised-the-rock stuff, but on the basis of this latest two-song job I feel HARD ACTION is a proverbial singles band—that, or these songs are just better. “Yours Truly” has its introductory protopunk chug usurped by a struttin’ THIN LIZZY-esque riff and wistful, vaguely heartland rock-y vox; “Walk Away” increases the tempo a shade, reserving its rawk leanings for the chorus. SHEER MAG’s first album and TV CRIME’s first singles are decent contemporary markers for this pair of fist-pumpers.
This is a collection of singles and rarities from this Wisconsin band. These guys have been cranking out the JOHNNY THUNDERS style of punk rock’n’roll for a while now. Thirteen tracks here, including covers of KISS, the JONESES, and SLAUGHTER AND THE DOGS. Although I haven’t followed INDONESIAN JUNK closely over the years, they do this genre justice. I like these types of collections for the music when you haven’t found every piece of vinyl by a band.
After a few consistently solid releases, Warsaw’s JAD self-releases a concise 7″ of heavy hardcore. Ugly chromatic riffs tied in with the beefy drum production make this sound way tougher than some of the musically ancestral references like ABBADON, ARMIA, or hardcore-era SIEKIERA. Most of this short platter is circle pit speed, except for a few moshy sections that don’t drag on too long. Nothing in particular makes this stand out but it’s still great angry hardcore.
Sizzling hardcore from Oakland densely churning with Finnish inflection. Vocals trill and cinder over gloomy mid-tempo tribal percussion. Guitar wanes and dives like a bomb raid alarm, with bass pulling the message through with poetic meter. A lengthy piano outro reminds of ANTI-SECT’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Get this limited edition flexi, a single track called “Anti,” which encapsulates the mood of the year quite provocatively, however stating all due respect to the victims of Hiroshima—an incomparable devastation, this year marking its 75th anniversary. What have we learned?
Seven minutes of heaven for fans of heavy bouncing hardcore that facilitates swinging fists and (hopefully) a variant of beautiful mosh styles. The thrashy guitars squeal then fade, acting as a precursor to pig-pile-inducing shouts, all of which allow me to imagine the claps and boastful “Wooooh”s elicited from hardcore fest attendees. Between the stomp and crawl of “Fratello” and the quick oddly abridged song structures, MINDFORCE’s formula takes equally from heavy metal, thrash and early ’90s NYHC synthesized into their own quick, twisting, simplified bursts. It works for them and I now understand the hype, but I would like to see some ideas explored further. This 12” leaves me wondering two things: how many members of MINDFORCE are Italian-American, and how can we reverse market forces so that 7″s are once again the cheapest means of putting out records?
Outsider pop from upstate New York. Doses of innocent twee, quirky proto/post-punk blurts, Nuggets-era pop, freeform experimental and some weird indie-by-way-of-yacht-rock bits (“Cut The Cake”) that I simply don’t understand. When I think of those bits as interludes between the freak stuff, MUCH BAND is a much better band. Somewhat curious that this cassette is on the Zazen imprint—a newer label who popped onto my radar for their noisecore and harsh electronic releases…it’s good to keep your fans guessing.
I’m not sure why I dig this sort of shit, but I really do. They start off with a nice surf instrumental that has hints of spaghetti western sprinkled about. It’s got a casual tempo and just kind of puts you at ease. For the second track, they come out with a number that makes me think of the French pop of the ’60s, like FRANCE GALL. Maybe it’s the female vocals. Or maybe because some of the lyrics are actually in French. In the end, it’s a mixture of instrumentals and songs that feature vocals. All are done extremely well and, as I said earlier, it all comes with a certain calming element. Simple, straightforward, enjoyable.
NOPE are from Winnipeg, Manitoba. The impression of listening to the first couple of tracks was about DISORDER/CHAOS UK vibes but this also somehow has a F.Y.P. or Recess Records feel. Less punch or aggression, more garage punky, and sloppy, catchy (somewhat), and most importantly, fun. Artwork consists of pictures of a dump and with song titles like “We’ve Tried Nothing And We’re All Out Of Ideas” it sounds like trash in the most appropriate way possible.
I mean, as soon as the cowbell drops, you know this is going to take some work. You know you’re going to have to put the time in to make it work. And the guitar that follows is straight off of Nine Patriotic Hymns… which is when you really need to start paying attention. On their second proper 12″, Budapest veterans NORMS push out eight tracks of thinking person’s hardcore. Sure, they are fast and extremely chaotic, but check the single-note speed picking on “Lassú Emberek.” Pay attention to the frantic vocal delivery (aside from the earlier guitar reference, the only other comparison I will lean on is that the vocals remind me of Ernesto from LIFES HALT), and the damage they inject into the chaos of tracks like “Háború És Fű” demands extensive examination. The underbelly here is manic, post-’90s USHC, but by digging for the influences of their influences while maintaining their identity as a new century hardcore band, NORMS manifest as something completely different than from either past or present. The record is great, and I like that it demands careful attention before it will let you let loose. And that cowbell…..? Oh, it comes back.
A wildly schizophrenic album for a tremendously fucked up year. My mind has been working overtime since the beginning of 2020 and it seems that LAMONT THOMAS’s brain has been, too. Fortunately, he got some of those thoughts down on vinyl. The sounds OBNOX presents on this double LP take a while to digest. So take your time with it. Try listening at different times of day and in different settings. Use headphones or blast it out of a crappy boombox. There are psychedelically mellow guitars, whispered vocals, receptive drum machine beats, chaotic noise and funky bass parts. The record does not stop giving. For me the simple one-two-three shot of “Heaven,” “Misery” and “Return Fire” just about sums up my 2020 (lack of) thought process.
Echoing chamber-cold crusty hardcore with mammoth sound from windy, good olde Chicago. I haven’t heard such pile-driving fire-fast changes that border on pit-core and thrashing crust since RITUAL CONTROL. That band ruled, and so does this. Venomous vocals, slightly cyberpunk-effected guitar and drum tones, hypnotic artistic passages that suddenly pull you down into a blender breakdown. Bass elbows in for some peaks and valleys, showcasing a reverberating lid on all this chaos. This album is thoroughly impressive. The songs are easily embraced thrash hardcore, such as early CORROSION OF CONFORMITY with the abominable precision of MIND ERASER or COLD SWEAT. The cover art is disturbing and awesome, like low-res DISCLOSE skull, GISM confrontational, awesome. Really digging RASH. All-in-all an absolute face-grind of embittered, ruptured punk.
Stupid back-to-basics hardcore punk that was probably made by children. You’ve heard this crud before but if you’re like me, SEPTIC YANKS (what a name—you’ve gotta love it) project images in your mind of a kid tangled in a microphone cord doing a nice back/forth strut before rolling around on the grimiest basement floor and getting tube lights smashed on their back. The opening of this cassette has me singing COMBAT ZONE’s “Untamed mind, mad at the streets, anti-social mentality” which is a good rip-off even if it’s not a rip-off and I’m being presumptuous. Stand out track is the closer titled “School to Prison” which they can barely seem to grasp. Forgettable in the long run but let’s breathe every breath and enjoy all that life has to offer us.
Pandemic-born solo noisecore from New Orleans. Emphasis on the noise. Oppressive, distorted and violent. Someone sowed seeds of powerviolence and then got locked in their bedroom…shit got pollinated by stench and filth and noise. Choice cut: “Just Shut Up snd Wear Your Fucking Mask.”
There’s a hint of late-’80s Dutch East India college alt, raw outsider pre-grunge and/or post-punk, and there’s a nice gruff Picciotto tail clinging onto the end of many of the verses. You could just say that Milwaukee’s TOADSKIN is rehashing a past sound, but it rings true—perhaps in part because the sounds are from an entirely different past.
This is cool, and really sounds Orstralian, that sorta post-COUNTRY TEASERS-meets-post-punk/UK DIY with a sense of humor world that has been the Australian underground for the past ten or so years. The thing that sorta holds me back from fully throwing my frenzied love and adoration is this feels so cheerful and good, and the world doesn’t. It’s sorta not got the vigor and venom needed for my mind, at least. I would rather throw on a FIRE ENGINES 45 or the aforementioned COUNTRY TEASERS or even PATOIS COUNSELORS for a modern/wild take on such things. This feels contained and like a student’s essay on their summer rather than something necessary in the face of endless plagues and fascisms. Of course everyone wants a good time, even in the face of death and horror, but this is not really that either?! It’s not bad! At all! In any way! It just isn’t what I want.
Mindless Dolls is an enjoyable album of garage rock moderne. The music is fuzzy and pleasant. The vocals have an ’80s flatly spoken quality. The combination is upbeat and airy even with the occasional darker lyrics.
A self-produced electropunk effort (though that’s how they describe themselves—it’s basic electro-pop). I guess the punk part comes from the sarcastic fuck you lyrics, railing against the corporatisation of punk, the major labels, and all the other bad stuff that MRR and its founder and leading light, after whom the band is named, railed against. More sloppy DEPECHE MODE than SUICIDE—though the first time I saw DEPECHE MODE lip-syncing (and knob-syncing, presumably) on the British chart show Top of the Pops, “playing” their first hit “I Just Can’t Get Enough,” Vince Clarke was wearing a CRASS t-shirt. Now that’s punk.
This is my first exposure to a band with an almost overwhelming amount of output, having what I gather to be at least seven cassettes out. ZURICH CLOUD MOTORS ranges from catchy indie pop to bordering-on-indecipherable noise rock, hitting everything in between as well, which is quite the array. There are even moments when I hear early MEAT PUPPETS-inspired stuff coming through. A real wild ride. By all means, if you check this out, which you certainly should, give it more than just one song cause as soon as you think you know what ZCM is all about, they seem to switch things up on you.
Madison, WI-based pandemic solo project. Poppy rock’n’roll hooks mixed with electronic synth-pop/synthwave/new wave. There are some real dreamy, pretty songs on this. I honestly don’t know how much appeal this will have to punkers/freakers, and I know I’m no expert in the electro/synthwave world, but I think my man Bobby from No Coast Records might have a real hit on his hands here with the BEAT INDEX. The pop sensibility on this cassette is remarkable and undeniable.
These French blokes obviously worship at the sacred altar of Eurosleaze giants such as TURBONEGRO, GLUECIFER, and the HELLACOPTERS, as well as the well-known band from whose song they took their name. Pernod-drenched, hard-iron-forged Marshall stack mayhem with a huge hard-on for American muscle cars. Some of the songs are damn catchy, too. Check out “Asphalt Digger” for noted reference. It’s a little generic at times, but when you’re doing 160 km/h it’s really hard to change the tape. Go on. Give it a spin.
Girlsville really digging deep with the COACHWHIPS nuggets over the last few years, and I thank them for it. Four cuts here—a synth-drenched swamp dirge outtake from 2002’s Hands on the Controls and three rough and tumble demo tracks (“Get Yer Body Next Ta Mine” and two others). Fidelity out the window, these early COACHWHIPS excursions are confident and raunchy garage punk protein; vocals demented beyond words and music stripped down to the roots all bluesy and full of not a care in the world. And loud—it needs to be loud.
The timelessly-named DECADENT FEW seem to have existed in whatever remained of the Londan anarcho scene in the late-’80s to early-’90s. Lowlife compiles an unreleased session from 1988 as well as some compilation and 7″ tracks, and is every bit enjoyable as their Irrehuus LP. DECADENT FEW is among the clever bands that can strike a single riff or two for three to four minutes and somehow engage me and put me in a trance at the same time. They chose to include a cover of JOY DIVISION’s “Shadowplay” to further demonstrate this. Segments of sparse guitars create a push-and-pull effect over a steady-going rhythm section. But it would be irresponsible for me to not draw attention to the dramatic and theatrical vocal stylings of Kaya, which is really the most unique characteristic this band had to offer. Think SOUTHERN DEATH CULT but more…witchy? Some may find them a bit over the top, but that’s exactly what has always drawn me to this band. The sleeve looks lovely and the glossy fold-out insert has a couple nice gothy black-and-white band photos and lots of cool flyers, but I’d have liked some lyrics. A must for all of you UK anarcho romantics.
Well shit, it’s 1997 all over again and certain punkers are donning skintight denim and mirrored shades, feathering their hair and applying glitter selectively. The Scandi-death-glitter-punk sounds were coming fast and hard through labels like Sympathy for the Record Industry and Man’s Ruin, and San Francisco was dead center for the action. We’re talking BACKYARD BABIES, HELLACOPTERS, TURBONEGRO, and GLUECIFER, and now some 23 years later (it was really hard to do that math) we have the DRIPPERS picking up the torch.They even dug up the moldy glitter-ridden corpse of the guy who produced some of those classic records to mix this gem of a recording. Like all of the aforementioned bands (except for maybe TURBONEGRO), the weak spot is the vocals. I don’t know what it is, but the Scandis can rock like a mutha but the singers are icy and emotionless. The best cuts here for me are “Langgatan,” “White Light” and “Finskt Blod.” Now, like then, the influences are HANOI ROCKS, the STOOGES, MC5, MOTÖRHEAD and the ROLLING STONES. Hopefully this band rocks harder live than the disappointing shows witnessed by those other bands (except for TURBONEGRO) back in the day. Still, it’s a pretty smokin good time.
A satisfying blast of rough-around-the-edges hardcore. Frantic drumming and riffing over Cappo-goes-to-Cleveland vocals, with straight edge songwriting influences showing up in subtle and sometimes less subtle ways throughout the record, though you might not guess it if it weren’t for the X’d up mosher on the cover. The slow-burner finale, “Pittsburgh ’18,” is the best of the bunch.
I encourage putting things like this into as many hands and ears as possible, so the Moon Decay reissue is more than welcome. Impassioned screamo from Poland—I’m pretty sure that the sound is old enough to be considered retro at this point—but ESCAPISM reaches into the chaotic world of ’90s European monsters like AKEPHAL and when I hear that shit I am like mush…I want to absorb everything. Chaotic, erratic, intense, genuine…emotional hardcore embodied. You can feel the room full of kids clutching themselves and screaming “You have to realize“ at the start of “Teenage Anarchist Observations,” and you want to be in that room. With those kids. One of those kids. Realizing.
Grinding, harsh, gangly garage hardcore from EXECÜTORS. Soloing, maniacal-laughing streetwalking punk like GANG GREEN meets a NAILBITER hardcore attack. Anthemic at the heart with an irreverent attitude. Two tracks of no-fucks-given arcade-era hardcore. MALE PATTERNS play at a lower register, such as BUTCHER, with a MOTÖR-charged tempo that quickly roughens up the songs like some serious uppers. Drums triplet with accomplishment where it’s not even necessary, adding some interesting licks. Vocals are spat in kick-time with even more resentment and destruction than Side A. Together, this split offers all-go bitterness that sounds different, but flows together like the foulest brothers on the block. EXECÜTORS, MALE PATTERNS, what awfulness happened to you guys? Intimidated to even ask about it.
F.E.I.D.L. is a garage-y post-punk band from Vienna. They play repetitive beats topped with fuzzy guitars. The bass and drums stomp out a catchy, yet mechanical locomotive chug. Based solely on their sound the vocals seem frank and earnest. I have no idea what they are saying so they could be really sarcastic and silly which would make me happy. Mixing all of that together F.E.I.D.L. gives off a detached type of cool noise that’s appealing to my ears.
Bar band garage punk from Maine. Think ’60s Á la the SONICS and the 13TH FLOOR ELEVATORS. Although certainly not on that level, these seasoned vets hold their own kicking out the rockers. A good band for the locals.
A transnational project between members of BLAZING EYE from USA and NEGATIVE from Norway, settling their sound closer to European HC, playing on full-throttle pace with mildly distorted guitars and restless songwriting. It’s top-shelf hardcore craftmanship from knowledge and enthusiasm for the music. I am sure the lyrics are dealing with exact issues—the vocals balancing between angst and irony—and it’s appreciated they are in Norwegian, although it’s obvious KRIGSHODER primarily loves merciless hardcore performed at neckbreak speed so the main event is when they realize they can be even harder and faster, so they try and play even harder, and it works. They are capable of doing so and it is entertaining, as a machine or algorithm which is fulfilling your desires. The worst thing I can say about this tape is I do not find my entrance on it. I do understand why people are excited over it, yet it does nothing to me even after a couple dozen re-listens. Neither does it bother me—it’s not that it is bad, but it has a similar function as those current labels whose main focus is putting out reissues. It’s cool, even if it is important, it makes a lot of people happy yet it’s weird and not in the way that makes the punk I love the best thing in the world.
An absolute monster from Portland’s answer to Portland’s Kings of Punk. As on previous releases, LONG KNIFE wear their influences on their sleeve—POISON IDEA, heavy metal, Japanese hardcore—and they own every fucking note. These two tracks lean heavily on burning metal leads, which rocks (of course) and makes the record feel more honest. And on the subject of honesty, the lyrics read like Bukowski nihilism, taking heady stock of the reality you’ve made while keeping a cautious eye over your shoulder as a reminder of how real things can get. Living fast is fun, dying young is glamorous, but finding your place in the next chapter is the real challenge. LONG KNIFE isn’t dwelling on it, but you can feel the struggle fighting in the grooves. Great band, and this two song slammer might be their best release.
OPTIC SINK is the latest project from Natalie Hoffmann of NOTS, giving her an opportunity to explore some of the darker electronic influences that have been brought into that band’s wiry post-punk approach over the course of their last few records. Pairing up with percussionist Ben Bauermeister for this debut LP, Hoffmann creates strobing, analog synth-driven soundscapes guided by early minimal wave and electro-industrial outfits like the NORMAL and CABARET VOLTAIRE, with her detached-yet-commanding delivery of lines like “Can’t survive / You’ll always try” (from “Personified”) and “You can watch yourself / Under glass” (in the social media-as-identity-performance critique “Exhibitionist”) only underscoring the insistently paranoid instrumental pulse. In the year 2020, when the term “dystopian” gets thrown around at seemingly every turn to describe music that in any way reflects the harsh truths of the countless oppressive systems governing our daily realities, this is one record that truly earns that qualifier—if you’re up for it, embrace the void.
Whenever I mention international hardcore or punk, I refer to the variety of the worldwide representation of this art form. I am aware of how archaic it sounds, because scenes as individual sounds and characteristics are on the brink of extinction. The local resonance is vanishing; instead we have a list of variations for punk that is followed internationally and strictly, recreating globalized forms, appearances and manners. The scenes are not providing distinguishable interpretations to the same influences when the reference point is a genre-defining band, nor do they express their own unique conditions in their own unique way. A great part of contemporary punk is basically worship-core. Then we have bands like PARNEPAR from Croatia that rely on the musical history of their region, yet it’s surprising how they are not trying at all to fit in with current punk and still they do. It’s not alien or old fashioned, just unique and refreshingly strange. Their approach is rather naive and introverted, the disconnection is keeping them from trying to prove anything. So they play barely distorted, fragmented to a demented rhythm art-punk/no wave with scary and alienated overtones. They draw influence from the Yugosalvian punk scene but—maybe due to its rarity—it does not feel reused and exhausted, their sound is modern but not in a polished way. It’s strange, fun, dissonant and haunted. While it has a great flow, the music is so fragmented it both motivates and enables listeners to move to. The slowly creeping guitars and the determined drums are taking the lead roles, vocals are barely more than spoken word presentation of the lyrics although it is never ridiculous for its seriousness, since this is not serious, it’s just art. PARNEPAR is an interesting, unique band who demands your time, openness and ability to see punk as a place for outsiders even among the outsiders.
Slick and snotty pop-punk from Chicago featuring members of CANADIAN RIFLE. This tape looks like it was made by some goofy teens at Kinko’s and sounds like it was made by some punks with decades of writing and recording under their belts. The vocals oscillate between acrobatic and straight up obnoxious, but I think that’s on purpose. The instrumental interludes are excellent. Fans of FLESHIES, DILLINGER FOUR and the like will definitely want to check this out.
I’m certainly intrigued when the first track is called “Jazz Wasps.” Holy shit, I haven’t heard anything with horns in a while. And to hear it working in a punk record is wild and surprising. This is like if the poetic rhythm of INSTIGATORS played as hard as SPITE UK or POLICE BASTARD but with saxophones! The bold venture alone is worth acknowledgement, but damn, I’m really moved by this. Fire solos, steady D-beat with slightly snotty, slightly robotic vocals. Chaos ensues! Some tracks are as fast and outrageous as GAUZE, others as heavy and classically-driven as DOOM. As a saxophone player in my youth, I kind of always wanted to trill over hardcore punk or even ambient black metal, and I find PI$$ER hugely inspiring. The horns are complementary to both guitar and bass—not to be ignored, but in no way steer the intention away from punk. This seriously fucking works! And I’m going nowhere near the “S-word.” More like JOHN ZORN playing DISCHARGE, SORE THROAT, or PLEASANT VALLEY CHILDREN. War-siren, dismal alto octave dissidence as fuck. Lyrics about living and learning and gaining those experiences. “Life = Art / Art = Life!,” as it says in the liner notes. Agreed. I’m not going to get into the amazing band connections this group has, that is not the point. This is totally new. A rad project you’ve done here, PI$$ER.
PINK STEEL is proof of what can happen with a resource-strong support system, i.e. an enthusiastic high school drama department. Looking past the boner joke (I mean, we’re talking about teenage boys), the story told within perfectly explains the unique blend of punk, power pop, and theatrical bliss of this formative Victoria, BC septet. Yes, seven members. Both of their hard-to-find 7″s are included here, six songs resequenced, presumably to best fit all the material onto one fairly long 7″. Highlights are “My Girl’s Radioactive” and “Won’t Come in Your Hand,” mostly because of the lyrics. The piano tinkle is what shifts their upbeat and aggressively adolescent sound into something more profound. If you are relying on online streaming to enjoy Supreme Echo releases you are doing it wrong. The research and care that goes into the interview and liner notes here elevates these recordings, putting things into proper context and making the physical release essential. Your eyes will bulge at the flyer for “The Alandhiscar X-Mas Party” lineup from 1982, featuring PINK STEEL, the NEOS, and NOMEANSNO. I already know my high school years were bullshit, but give me a break, Victoria. Obvious pickup.
This one starts off really noisily. “Lunkhead” is screeching vocals and distorted guitar squawks. It’s all over modulated and wild. As the EP continues, things settle down a bit ending with the more lo-fi poppiness of “I Am the Rat.” The vocals on the song are panicky, but the music has become cleaner and more garage-y. I like it.
This tape combines the band’s summer 2018 demo and four new tracks. The latter are plodding, scathing feminist hardcore delivered at full intensity. Hardcore breakdowns are always my favorite part, but these breakdowns take it up a notch and sound like a powerful hell-demon running at full force through a block of frozen molasses. The faintest hint of delay in the vocals in exactly the right places drags the sound into hardcore’s current era. The demo tracks are rougher, faster, and more brutal, as to be expected. Don’t miss this.
KBD raer that would go straight to Graham Booth in MRR days of yore. Apparently this is a fake punk band put together for a movie soundtrack; it just sounds like a shambolic but thuggish rockarolla work out to me. No hooks or charisma, just brash falling apart clang. I can see this having appeal to certain wild minds for sure though but it is not really something I would ever listen to again?! I prefer the freaky sounds of REMO VOOR or ELECTRIC EELS for this feeling. If you liked BLAST (the Belgian proto punk band not the SST band) you might like this?
One of the paragon teenage girl-punk combos of the 1990s is back, in a manner of speaking! The four tracks on this new EP were originally recorded as part of a 1993 radio session, with Niki Eliot of like-minded UK Riot Grrrl insurrectionists HUGGY BEAR joining in on drums and backing vocals—takes on “Pillowcase Kisser” and “Starch” from the SKINNED TEEN/RAOOUL split LP are both represented, along with the oft-comped “Straight Girl” and the otherwise-unreleased “Nancy Drew.” There’s all of the anyone-can-do-it skeletal punk spark and schoolyard-chant catchiness that defined the band’s early EPs, with the inclusion of some toy percussion on the two B-side tracks that casts SKINNED TEEN as the ’90s spiritual heirs to Y PANTS’ starkly minimalist and playfully feminist ’80s art-pop. The exact intersection of everything that punk should always be—ramshackle, economical, deviously smart, the product of minds that have too often been excluded from the conversation. Limited to 200 copies and already sold out from the source; do whatever needs to be done to acquire your own.
Dreamy warm pop from San Francisco, sounds like it could be from Glasgow or some secret Paisley Underground jangle enclave; that warm California psychedelicate sound for fans of the PASTELS, CAMERA OBSCURA and BARBARA MANNING…music made by and for cool girls who work in record stores. If you are seeking out something effervescent-yet-melancholy for these trying times, this might be the solution, at least for a little while. I think this might be sold out but check distros! They have an LP coming out next year on Slumberland, too.
I only know VACUM from the perspective of being a very casual collector of early Swedish punk. Rather than being the singles collection I expected, this is their 1980 debut LP with a 2018 recording called Korstag packaged into a gatefold double LP. Starting with the first album, VACUM displays an impressively varied sound injected with elements of punk, post-punk, and even some ’70s progressive rock, making for an engaging listen that remains interesting 40 years later. The songwriting is innovative but retains the urgency of early legends like EBBA GRÖN or KSMB. The Korstag session predictably emanates more modern studio magic and a “mature rock” sound, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t get sucked into some great choruses. At its best, there’s a bit of the rhythmic and vocal command of KILLING JOKE in their reformed sound. To be honest, I don’t think I’d pick Korstag up as a record buyer, so packing it in with the reissue of the debut LP is a well-played move. Massproduktion has been releasing records since all the way back to the bonzer-fide MASSMEDIA and PIZZOAR EPs, so you can rest assured the presentation of this collection is top-notch, though it’s worth noting all liner notes are in Swedish. Reportedly only 210 copies, oh dear.
Three-song cassette on Dirt Cult Records. Very much what you would expect from the label—incredibly catchy indie-leaning pop punk, exactly what I thought I was getting. Only three songs? What a tease! It seems the band members live far apart from one another, but hopefully they get together again soon and crank out more songs ’cause this is really poppy and fun and I’ve already listened to it three times in a row.
