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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!
Here’s some noisy as fuck, raw punk chaos out of Stockholm. The guitarist employs the always-on wah pedal technique to deliver an intermittent low/high pitch harsh noise tone that sounds like a chainsaw slicing through a dumpster. It’s the perfect sound to scratch your eyeballs out to. Back that up with ferocious proto-Euro-crust smashing and you’ve got a real ripper. Check it out!
I’ve got mixed feelings on this release. I was first put on to SHEER MAG five years ago when I was chatting with some locals and ex-pats on the patio of the Ramones Museum in Berlin. We got to talking about THIN LIZZY and one of them championed SHEER MAG so hard that I sought them out as soon as I had another wi-fi connection. Holy smokes, they’re great at power pop. Christina’s voice is so fucking incredible and like no other. On “Silver Line,” she belts out “I need a siiiiilver line” and it gives me chills to hear those notes stretched out over several beats. I also particularly love the mellow vibes of that song as well as the transition into a anxious melody in “Hardly to Blame.” Plus those THIN LIZZY distorted guitar lines punch through in the verse. “Blood From a Stone” is another that brings more of the well-worn method of songwriting that SHEER MAG has given us over the years. While I don’t like to pigeonhole bands into a sound, I don’t always love when I’m hit with something totally out of left field. So the opener “Steel Sharpens Steel” threw me for a loop with Christina’s power metal wail breaking through and the palm-muted guitar riffs. Songs cover subjects like classism, body positivity, and human rights, among others. Overall I like this record, though personally I could stand for an entire catalog of songs like “Fan the Flames” and “Nobody’s Baby.” Glad that the band is growing, but I’m happy to have them fly close to their roots.
JIM SHEPARD, who committed suicide in 1998, produced an enormous body of work, much of it excellent and challenging, in his 44 years on earth. The musician and poet from Columbus, Ohio, was best known for his bands EGO SUMMIT, V-3, and VERTICAL SLIT, but he recorded and released music prolifically under his own name, though all of it is currently out of print. Heavy Action covers a wide swath of his career, encompassing live and unreleased material, scraps of spoken words, voicemails, tributes from the likes of DENNIS CALLACI, ROBERT POLLARD, DON HOWLAND, and NUDGE SQUIDFISH, and covers of BOB DYLAN, the GUN CLUB, and LEONARD COHEN. Shepard’s oeuvre is shot through with a red-hot fury—both lyrically and sonically—and this collection is heavy on the darkness with songs like “Loaded Gun” and “Star Power.” Listening to three LPs of his music at once was emotionally overwhelming, and I don’t think this is a great starting point for someone unfamiliar with his work (that would be V-3’s 1992 CD-only album Negotiate Nothing), but considering the scarcity of his numerous tapes and CDs and records, this is a place to start. Nicely packaged with liner notes by Tom Lax of Siltbreeze.
I pulled the trigger and bought this after only hearing “Sugar and Gold” which was enough to convince me it was worth it. This is a beautiful album that touches on some country, folk, lo-fi and experimental properties all written and performed by Al of TOTAL CONTROL, UV RACE and every other Australian band, plus Amy of CONSTANT MONGREL, TERRY, and others. I’m definitely not worldly enough to be able to tell you about the various influences but it just feels very well balanced and has tracks that put me at ease. It seems like they used every instrument at their disposal from guitars to horns to synths and electronic drums. They’ve got those SQUEEZE-like high and low vocals going on and overall it feels complimentary to old Flying Nun stuff. It doesn’t come across too kitschy and strikes a balance between simple melodic tunes and more experimental sounds. “Flagged” is probably my favorite here.
Driving, nasty synth-punk. Richmond, VA has got something special here. Six songs recorded live and sounding better than a majority of demos I usually hear. TEENAGE CENOBITE originally began as a solo project, but after releasing their first cassette has become a full-on live band that, from the sound of this tape, are an unrelenting powerhouse. Not surprising that this is as good as it is having been released by Feel It Records, one of the most consistent labels these days.
The first song had me thinking they were gonna go in a not-quite-D-beat direction—their sonic aesthetic immediately made me think of TOTALITÄR’s side of the DISMACHINE split specifically, albeit with a less metallic and a little more jangly guitar sound. They certainly would’ve done this style well given the guitar sound, vocalist’s pipes, and the drummer’s chops. But instead, Hamburg’s TESTBUNKER goes for a more straightforward but very timeless and salt-of-the-earth melodic punk sound that’s defiant, melancholic, and celebratory in different combinations, and sometimes all at once. Loose gang vocals abound, and the guitar might be slightly out of tune, but the latter only adds to this band’s charm. I imagine these songs are best experienced live in the kind of place that could get busted at any moment.
At first I didn’t realize that I was given both volumes of WARM SWORDS’ War on Words cassettes to review, and I listened to the second volume first. Whoops. This first installment seems to be more straightforward and is my preferred of the two cassettes. Minimalist, synth-heavy garage-y post-punk that meanders around a bit in an artsy direction, especially on the tape’s instrumental tracks. The first batch of songs are super driving and really do it for me. Those are where this project shines. The instrumentals lose my interest and the more pop-heavy songs don’t seem to be as memorable. There are lots of very cool aspects to this band, but two full length cassettes is a bit much to digest as an introduction to them.
Try as I might, I cannot figure out where this band is actually from. It’s either New Zealand, Belgium, France, or Germany. Strange, minimalist, garage-y post-punk that leans a bit on the artsy side of things without being entirely off-putting, though it does teeter on the edge there a few times throughout the course of this tape. Despite the vocals being delivered somewhat lazily, the songs as a whole come across rather powerful and driving. It’s an interesting combination and I’m pretty into it. All the songs are recorded and mixed by the band, too, which is always an impressive thing. I was a little nervous that going into Volume 2 would be similar to seeing the movie sequel before the original and I would be lost, but all that has happened is I am all the more intrigued to visit the first volume.
Since their Fat Wreck Chords debut in 2017, the BOMBPOPS have been popping up on everyone’s radar, and this is the album that should keep them there. They’d previously developed a mastery of the SoCal skate punk sound mixed with killer vocal harmonies that got them on Fat, so now they were able to use that and focus on their lyrics and storytelling. This album finds them in a scary place. Addiction, suicidal ideations, and interpersonal violence all pepper Death in Venice Beach like a fine spice. In the end, there’s a reluctant optimism to the overall feel of the album, but you might have a harder time finding it than you’d expect. There is a complexity here that demands your time. “13 Stories Down” is the perfected version of the sad song every punk kid wrote in high school when they thought they weren’t going to make it. “Notre Dame” and “Double Arrows Down” are some standout tracks that really complete this all-around superb release.
Somehow CUERO’s crusade to the vinyl format has completely escaped my grasp, even though their 2019 demo, Black Metal Skinheads, was my go-to release last summer. Maybe the meaty title was the reason why it didn’t exactly catch people’s attention, even though all the elements of this generation of punk snobs was very present. Pumping, mid-tempo Oi! in simplistic, anthemic lyrics in Spanish, an in-character self-irony you rarely see matched and UK82 riffs played in a slightly more sinister key, similar to a lot of recent bands such as PMS 84 and SAVAGEHEADS, but a bit slower. The black metal thing seems to be more of an attitude thing than an actual musical presence, which doesn’t really bother me. Todo Hierro just sounds like an extension of that extremely tasty three-track tape. I wish there were more songs, because all six leave me longing for more. It never overstays its visit. All the tracks from the demo are also here. Released on the excellent label Mendeku Diskak, responsible for, among others, the CINDERBLOCK LP. You get what you sign up for. I really hope we get to hear more from CUERO in the future.
Fast hardcore punk. Five short songs, each clocking in well under a minute in length, most of which still finding the time to have a tough breakdown. Picture something mixed between LEFT FOR DEAD-type spastic riffs and tough CHAIN OF STRENGTH breakdowns.
Compelling archival release of a studio-quality 1983 garage four-track recording from this Spanish post-punk band. This was a demo for their second and final album, Un Hombre Solo—basically, a skeletal version of that work. To my (Anglo) ears, DÉCIMA VÍCTIMA sounds here like a cross between JOY DIVISION and the GREG SAGE album Straight Ahead—dark, melancholy tunes that take their time to reach their final destination. The heavy reverb and the hint of a rock’n’roll twang somehow brings to mind visions of a nightclub scene in a David Lynch movie, equal parts menace and mystery. Recommended.
The most recent release by a band whose offerings seem to all be cassette releases named for various professional athletes. Here we have Jim Thorpe, Native American Olympic gold medalist. The DUMPIES may not be as versatile musically as Jim Thorpe was athletically, but they are not all that far off. Running through six songs in under six minutes, they touch all the bases and dabble a little bit in a number of sub-genres without it feeling forced. Mid-tempo garage, plodding punk, lo-fi pop, catchy pop-punk. The DUMPIES break up their pentathlon of original songs by tossing in a RED KROSS cover, and they totally nail it. Consider this reviewer’s eyes peeled for these elusive other athlete-themed cassettes.
EVA RAS is a solo screamo project from Belgrade, Serbia. Musically they would fit in very well with the likes of ORCHID or PG.99, etc. It is spastic, chaotic, and unsettling, so I think it very much achieves the goal of the genre. The band uses the term “emoviolence” to describe their sound, and I admittedly had to look that one up. I’m not sure when screamo started being referred to as skramz, and when bands sounding like that adopted the term emoviolence, but as far as I can tell it’s all pretty similar. This is apparently the first half of a double EP, the second half forthcoming, and the cassette is limited to 12 copies.
GOON is one of a number of noteworthy hardcore bands coming out of Denver as of late. For the first few songs, the primary sound is, but not limited to, the intersection between a stompy yet heavy contemporary hardcore sound—I’m not going to use internet-conceived genre descriptors, but, um, S.H.I.T. might be one reference point—and more abrasive and outright mosh-ready hardcore. Things get a little more free-form from the relatively more sparse and jangly “Spit” through the eight-minute(!) closer, but all the pieces of the puzzle: the flow of the songs, the frequent change-ups, the pedalboard noise accompaniments, and the art-damaged visual aesthetic all form a cohesive package.
IXNA was a duo operating on the fringes of the Bay Area’s experimental music scene in the early 1980s, and their only release while they were active, a 1981 single on the Dumb Records label run by DIY glam weirdo extraordinaire NOVAK, took the art-damaged synth-punk of their local peers—think the UNITS, LOS MICROWAVES, PINK SECTION, etc.—into an even more fractured and out-there direction. Knotpop is the group’s lost LP, recorded in the same 1981 session at the Mills College Center for Contemporary Music that yielded both tracks from the 7″ (which are also included here) but left unreleased until last year. The warped new wave opener “Fun Fun Fun” almost approaches a West Coast translation of the whole ZE Records/New York mutant disco sound, with pulses of melting electronic textures, ominous bass, and Marina La Palma’s animatedly flipped-out vocal recitations, while the hypnotic, cut-up audio collage vibe of “Black Shirts” more closely recalls the FLYING LIZARDS’ expertly crafted avant-garde/pop synthesis. Best of all is “Mi Ne Parolas,” the original A-side of the Dumb Records single, which has gained a certain level of notoriety as probably the only ’80s post-punk jam with lyrics delivered entirely in Esperanto (everyone’s favorite international auxiliary language), with LaPalma’s sing-song chants backed by some staccato guitar, throbbing bass, hallucinatory multi-tracked tape loops of a CHUCK BERRY guitar riff, and scissors that have taken the place of cymbals in the pair’s percussive arsenal. Absolute art-wave brilliance, definitely not for the more narrow-minded punks out there!
Everything from the music to the artwork reminds me of early ’00s Danish hardcore punk, except this is a current band from the middle of America—Bloomington, Indiana to be exact. Musically this is most reminiscent of AMDI PETERSENS ARMÉ, who were themselves doing their best rendition of first wave LA/DC hardcore punk, so LAFFING GAS has got some of that as well. The songs on this LP contain what you’d expect given those influences—tons of energy, snotty and engaging vocals, some quick, cool guitar skronks here and there but nothing too polished or fancy, thankfully. The riffs are good and the songs have enough dynamics to avoid being generic. The endless cycle of hardcore punk continues, may it live an endless life.
These four Canadians like playing with their genre and their tempo to keep from being easily described. This is like a new, long-awaited HAGFISH album in that way. With the upbeat, fast “let’s go, let’s go” opening, you’d be forgiven for assuming you’ve stepped into a pretty straightforward pop punk album, but as it proceeds, you really get to see how dexterous this band can be. The vocalist can expertly dive from monotone talk-singing (“Functional Embarrassment”) to country-style crooning (“Sleepwalker”) to that strained shout where you have to lean back two feet from the mic to not peak all the levels, seemingly without slowing down. The elevator music bridge on “The Last Lonely Boy” is unexpected but wonderfully refreshing. The triple vocals on “Soul In Progress,” especially the back-and-forth male/female interplay, are excellently balanced and gratifying. This band excels in the dark, sad lyrics set to super fun and happy sounding music realm. This is particularly apparent in the ska-laced “Almost Fun.” There is a lot of goodness going on here, and it seems like they’re just getting started. Also, they’re pretty funny.
Holy hell, this rips! Oakland, CA’s M80 plays super driving and catchy hardcore punk of an incredibly timeless nature. It would be difficult to pinpoint a timeframe that this came out if I just heard it playing somewhere. The five-song cassette instantly feels familiar, like I’ve been listening to it for years, without sounding like any one specific band. This might be as close to perfection as a demo can get, in my book. Not satiated with listening to the tape three times in a row, I did a little searching and found a live set of theirs on the internet and it’s totally worth a watch.
If you aren’t already familiar with this band from their LP or 12″, they play raw, blown-out hardcore in the style of Japanese bands like FRAMTID or KRIEGSHÖG, who were in turn playing a more distorted version of the hardcore style of Swedish bands like CRUDITY and ANTI-CIMEX. Here you will revel in a thick and distorted guitar sound, but thankfully not overly distorted where the riffs are buried in a wall of feedback. The bass has a raw, chunky clunk and the drums are hammered like obstinate nails. The coarse vocals have the just the right amount of reverb on them to sound like they are being shouted at you from the bottom of a well but not from another dimension. In total, the compositions, production, and overall vibe of this release are outstanding. It doesn’t fall into any of the traps or excesses of the genre but remains finely balanced between total raw noise and something more musical. Powerful and invigorating, the intensity of the music contrasts somewhat with the lyrics’ bleak outlook. There is an underlying current of despair and misery in the lyrics while expressing the yearning to break free and rebel. As with many bands of this genre, I find the music really gets the blood pumping and forms a direct mental and emotional link to a desire to break free and run wild. But the lyrics about depression and despair keep bringing us back to what we are rebelling against rather than the freedom we are striving for. I was out of town when these guys played Minneapolis and really regret not seeing them live.
RANK/XEROX were my fave local band when they still lived in SF, making super sick PROLETARIAT-meets-Leeds post-punk sounds for desolate minds… I think they live on different continents nowadays, so was surprised to see this 45 on my review sheet. It’s a dark, somber burner, kind of less vital sounding than the earlier recordings but maybe just a different feeling?! Repetitive driving doom, it feels darker and more contained. Worth investigating if you were a fan of their other works.
Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, REAGAN YOUTH seemingly stood a step apart from their early ’80s NYC contemporaries: what they lacked in the brute-force pummel of a band like A.F. or the tweaked-out intensity of URBAN WASTE or ANTIDOTE, they made up for in simple, catchy riffs and personality. I mean, countless teenagers have answered the call of underground punk rock, but how many of them had the sarcastic wit of Dave Insurgent? While the other recently released REAGAN YOUTH LP (It’s a Beautiful Day… for a Matinee!) is essentially a vinyl reissue of the Live & Rare CD from the late ’90s, this collection on Puke n Vomit features completely unreleased demo recordings from 1981-1983 (plus a ripping live cover of “Ace of Spades”). Granted, aside from one instrumental cut sounding like a work in progress, you’ve probably heard all these songs before, but the sound quality is solid and this is sure to please anyone who’s worn out the grooves of their copy of Youth Anthems for the New Order.
The debut LP from the UK’s foremost six-member psychedelic art-punk group, finally realized seven years after their initial demo (which included rougher versions of three songs that reappear here) and five years since their last release, a two-song 7″ on the now-defunct label Tuff Enuff. SLUM OF LEGS’ squealing violin lines, knotted rhythms, and slightly askew overlapping harmonies will draw some obvious and inevitable (although not entirely inaccurate) comparisons to the RAINCOATS, but they’re really pulling from a much more disparate and complex set of reference points—kinetically droning Krautrock pulse, the more experimental and boundary-pushing bands to come out of ’80s UK anarcho-punk, the anxious sprawl of early VELVET UNDERGROUND (especially apparent in the chilly and dramatic NICO-esque edge in lead vocalist Tamsin’s delivery). Some of the best moments of an all-around great album include the band’s theme song “Slum of Legs,” a collision of tom-heavy drumming, frantically bowed strings and ecstatic group chants, and the more sharp-angled “The Baader-Meinhof Always Look So Good in Photos,” which is pushed along by an ominous bassline and blurts of synth before unwinding into urgent, desperate shouts reconciling wavering self-image with feminist anger. Serrated sounds for society’s slow collapse, more timely than ever.
Oooo I like this! Charming post-BLONDIE power pop girl sounds with a serving of Bomp! This was supposed to come out in 1980 or so, but only a test press ever emerged, so here it is, some shiny new wave pop punk just in time for the end of the world… Rikk Agnew’s liner notes are a li’l confusing but I think this is a Fullerton-based brother/sister band, both vocalists have killer voices in a JOSIE COTTON/TONI BASIL/DEBBIE manner, and the farfisa and guitar sound are super sick. “Boys Will Be Boys” was properly released on a compilation but I think the songs that demonstrate their love of BLONDIE are my faves over the more SoCal waver ones…. Totally worth picking up! No filler, all killer…
1981’s Live It was this Manchester post-punk band’s second album, originally released on cassette only due to financial constraints by the BUZZCOCKS’ New Hormones imprint. These dense, tightly wound tracks are marked by prominent basslines—like GANG OF FOUR, stripped of any pop sensibilities—keening saxophone, and an abrasive, art-tinged assault reminiscent of the POP GROUP. Punk in sensibility but drawing from a wider palette of influences, Live It is dark and claustrophobic music; when it lets loose, it channels ALBERT AYLER more than, say, the PISTOLS. This first-time vinyl reissue features liner notes from guitarist Graham Massey (later to make it big with 808 STATE etc.) and a handful of bonus tracks.
The backstory to this record is amazing: a teenager named Chas was singing to herself while tearing down a poster in a UK tube station in 1978 when a passerby spotted her and suggested that she try out as the vocalist for his friend Tony’s new project. That band quickly became BONA RAYS, who went into a studio to record a single after just a few weeks of rehearsals, but when they weren’t able to find a label to put it out, the acetate wound up sitting in a box in Chas’s house for the next four decades. During a move in 2018, Chas takes a box of records to sell to Flashback Records in London, who discover the abandoned acetate inside, start playing it in the store, and ask her about the mystery recording, a serendipitous connection that ultimately leads to the shop’s in-house label giving the single its first proper vinyl release. The A-side “Poser” is a jumpy delight, adding buzzing new wave synth to some classically hyper-charged three-chord punk, while the lyrics deliver a pointed scene critique (not entirely unlike the TELEVISION PERSONALITIES’ “Part Time Punks”) directed toward a privileged art school girl performatively wearing “Rock Against Racism on her lapel”—Chas was a woman of West Indian descent fronting a band in a predominately white ’70s UK punk scene, and the rescue of these lost recordings is playing a significant role in finally giving her some much-overdue recognition for her role as an early Black punk heroine. The glossy synth-wave by way of punky reggae number “Getaway Blues” on the B-side doesn’t quite live up to the firecracker impact of “Poser,” but that still leaves one solid belter that would fit in perfectly between BLONDIE and X-RAY SPEX at your next ’77-’82-themed DJ night.
Kudos for the self-invented label Cave Prog. Although CARNIVOROUS BELLS is not a BUTTHOLE SURFERS cover band but a new group of known names from CULT RITUAL/SALVATION circles. Bands who peaked a decade ago and the bits and pieces of hardcore-foreign influnces are testifying that in the past few years these guys might went further in their playlists than MECHT MENSCH and UNITED MUTATION. There is a lot of guitar playing that is experimental and moody enough to evoke some meaner Flying Nun bands while the rhythm section is swinging between jazz and Amphetamine Reptile/Touch & Go noise-rock broken beats. Poured down with hardcore tension while kept in a less distorted, raw-by-loudness enviorment. Occasionally they forget to remain within a song and rather start to jam, and it’s interesting how the influences are laid parallel, never really emulsifying with each other but somehow all adding up to an interesting clamor of adventurous hardcore. Should I go back and check the late-era of SST or October File? I get that CARNIVOROUS BELLS likes hardcore the idea as much as they do enjoy strange sounds from different scenes and they are very confident and successful to blend these alien worlds together. It creates an interesting album. Is it for everyone? Hell no, that would be like recommending Antonioni to a devoted fan of the Die Hard series, and if you do not get what the fuck I am talking about then just leave this record alone.
This release is among the very few best new music. I stopped being optimistic about wonderful-demo bands but dealing with the present, this tape is the essence of great radikal hardcore. It is falling apart between the battle of enthusiasm and pace, therefore it’s as urgent as it grabs and drags you; anger-based total chaotic music from Chile that recalls manics like WRETCHED and ANTI-DOGMATIKSS or the bands and their collective sonic mind fuck of La Ciudad Podrida Vol. I comp or ephemeral group VIXENS. CONDUCTA ERRÁTIKA is unique because they recall and not replay the aforementioned names. Either they understand or relive equivalent frustrating conditions that they are able to translate to music in a similar approach but indistinguishable style. Therefore their music becomes free of the burden of the history of hardcore since it does not have to fit into any templates. The music is raw and careless, raging in each track, its purpose is to create noise that here equals reprisal. The quality of the recording coats each number well, and tells about the circumstances of the band. Everything here integrates into one swirling thunder that aimlessly rumbles. This tape embodies CONDUCTA ERRÁTIKA via all possible features. This is the noise of their lives and I am happy they share it with us. Highly recommended.
CRUDEZ looks and plays punk like you imagine the enemies of Robo Cop would prefer. Nasty, Riot City Records soundmark sonic jet guitars, as a pipe of fuzz, laid on a solid but simplified beat. Although the combination between the music and vocals reminds me a lot of classic Swiss bands: the KICK, GLUEAMS sort of distant emotions as the singer exists in her own world, far from the language she sings on, far from the dirty, jiggly guitar sound an inbred mix of MANISCH DEPRESIV and CHAOTIC DISCHORD. It blends great with the additional variety of pogo melody and street blitzkrieg-vibes. The songs do not differ from each other, therefore nine of them in a row is a bit stifling although each song could be 7″ material. Let them be your daily dose of international punk!
Vicious mad blasts of retro-crust hardcore fueled with defiance and rage. Recalling the sounds of REACT, CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE, LOGICAL NONSENSE, AUS-ROTTEN, BOILING MAN, focused on themes of veganism, animal liberation, and a strict stance against the capitalist corporate masculine hypocritical system. Several shared furious vocal duties nail-gun through each track, which clock in under a couple minutes each on average, a brief harsh slap of reality like DROPDEAD. A few songs explore into the three- or four-minute range, thinking of ANTISCHISM, PROVOKED, ZERO HOUR but for the most part, on this 22-track LP laced with several unsettling interludes, the band delivers their message concisely. FUCK IT… I QUIT! is the sound and constitution of the inherent punk culture fight and the uncensored non-metaphoric, straight-to-the-point voice we need again.
This record smokes. The former members thing is really going to help out here because it does totally sound like folks from CITIZENS ARREST, NEMA and HELL NO play in this band. Straight, up-tempo hardcore filled in with heavy breakdowns (well, it’s all pretty heavy) and a slight nod toward the metal side of things without ever really getting there. What differentiates this from those folks’ old bands is that it has a brightness in the guitar sound (and recording in general) that really makes it pop. Not saying it makes it better than that old stuff, it just makes it feel fresh. Did I say that this record smokes?
This record was quite a surprise for me. Most of us know the GROINOIDS from their tracks on Boston Not LA and Unsafe at Any Speed. Those tracks and the later released Radiobeat Sessions feature some fast, demented hardcore with snotty/wacky vocals and sarcastic lyrics. One formed the impression of a goofy group of misfits who were into playing fast and not too seriously. This opinion was reinforced by contrasting them to the tight, heavy and powerful mesage-driven hardcore bands like SSD, DYS and JERRY’S KIDS. This Lost LP is in a completely different style than I envisioned. The riffs are heavy and sludgy. They swing from an evil heaviness you might expect from a band like CAVITY or BUZZOV•EN to a more rockin’ form of heavy like, say, HIGH ON FIRE or FU MANCHU. But—and this is a big but—the vocals are still the whiney, juvenile, sarcastic snarl of the early hardcore days. It’s almost as if they are asking us not to take this new heavy direction seriously just as they seemed to with their hardcore material. Some practical joker decided it would be uproarious to place a locking groove at the beginning of record so you actually drop the needle about an inch in from the edge rather than on the outer edge of the slab. I would say if you are into heavy post-hardcore stuff this record might be a real missing link for you. For hardcore fans I think it is more of historical and academic interest.
Let’s break this up. The first tracks on each side are both real cool, mid-tempo, jangle punk head-nodders. It feels like early CURE songs played through a modern Australia indie/punk filter. It’s bouncy, sing-along stuff (if you know Norsk) that maintains just enough of a punk edge. The other two tracks are more typical up-tempo, melodic punk with a heavily drenched guitar sound and little bits of hardcore that almost cut through. Still catchy and all but a little generic.
OUT COLD was labeled underrated throughout their whole career—it made them enter the category of your favorite band’s favorite band. Although right now I cannot really name particular bands they have influenced. How Living Is Killing Me sounds has become unique in today’s hardcore as it is raw in a different sense than what the meaning of raw has transformed into. OUT COLD reaches for the purest, unfiltered form, just turning on and up the amp and adding a little distortion, not making it thin, sharp, clean; behind which probably is a thought that this is going to be enough to sound harsh and hard. It’s a brave and wild idea even if a significant part of this LP was recorded at least ten years ago, before Mark Sheehan, their vocalist/guitar player, tragically passed away. How trends circle, this record feels alien today, as if it travelled through time. Although it does not make it ridiculous or even clumsily nostalgic but a lonely beast, something OUT COLD was called in their whole career. It reminds me of those classic USHC bands that are gateway drugs to this culture, but unlike being influenced by predecessors OUT COLD has worked themselves into this established sound that now feels as their own. The tempos are divided between straight-ahead fast and mid-tempo with tension which tracks wander away to rock-ish territories. As an achievement it is wonderful this record has been released. It is the final chapter of OUT COLD but isn’t it silly to always expect that at the end something amazing will happen? It adds to their story but as in life there are peaks and lows and mostly that sedating middles, still it worth to make it through and release everything we can because what is the worst that can happen? Even if you fail at least you fucking tried.
Wish I could judge a record by its first 30 seconds. Then I would be head over heels with SPRAUT since the chaotic, psychedelic start is so good, it would be great to have a record as its extension. I had to collect myself from the shocking moment when they turned it into D-beat and never really came back to experimental-core. Few minutes later I was no longer disappointed—despite the classic gestures of the genre are all here, SPARUT dug backwards to DISCHARGE’s rare moments when their beat turned into rock and roll and you rather care about moving your limbs than ventilating over the Falklands war. Which does not make SPARUT a rock and roll band but the width of their sound is not as expanded as most bands at their playground and this introduces a great contrast between the frightening/threatening atmosphere and the bouncy rhythm of the music. The focused vocals are unique, as it rises over the music and rages on the edge of hysteria. As a matured version of the singer of HUL. Another great thing is the vibration, the way the whole music moves along the record. Overall a solid EP that draws a lot from early European hardcore but self-concious enough to cherry pick the finest parts of it as a modern interpretation.
UNARM is not a newcomer to the crasher game, this release is the 7″ version of a promo tape made for their Scandinavian tour in 2018. Took several listens to cut through the usual gimmicks of the style—the wall-of-noise sound, a pace so fast its density makes the rhythm billow, how overwhelming the whole production is. Which are great features when you would like to listen to modern crasher crust/D-beat/high energy hardcore played in boots, but without much else these easily do blur many bands into one featureless bunch. Then what is special in UNARM? They do not drench their whole sound in the noise-not-music aesthetics; instead they occasionally introduce a good amount of melody and their pedals are not only here to blur the guitar sound but to elevate it. I love how the bass sounds in the third song when it switches from being this huge physical thing that, along with the drums, rolls over everything to a groovy psych element. The chaos of the last song is great, almost makes the whole record a warm up for that. If you pay enough attention, there are pieces of a puzzle scattered all over the record that make it a bit more than a great exercise of an already solid artifact. I would like it to be more radical but fuck me, UNARM does whatever they want, and if you are up for exploring entertaining tricks within a sonic warfare, this record can be your field of experiment.
Effortlessly cool and deadpan art-punk done Lone Star-style, like a box full of PRESSLER-MORGAN singles and Keats Rides A Harley comps turned up in some dusty Houston shop and VIVIENNE STYG has made it their mission to bring a contemporary interpretation of those twin inspirations to the masses. If there had been a band like this (or if someone had been willing to start one with me) when I was living in Houston, there’s a good chance that I wouldn’t have moved away fifteen years ago, no joke. Tinny/twangy guitar, ramshackle galloping drums, and dry, conversational vocals with a palpable sneering edge, all held together with some abstract junkshop electronic textures between songs in a tried and true DIY hometaper fashion; a total scratchy nuevo-Messthetics dream. The lyrics are also brilliantly biting, largely centered from the perspective of whip-smart women putting ineffective men in their place and taking control of their own agency in a dull patriarchal capitalist reality—opting out of consumer culture, getting businessmen to pay your rent, one-night stands of leather-clad romance. The first vinyl edition of this came out in February and was limited to 100 copies that sold out almost immediately, but there’s a second pressing forthcoming and y’all would seriously be remiss to not jump on it when it’s available again.
Sometimes when punx who exclusively listen to punk rock accidentally encounter music from somewhere else and it does not suck, in their confusion the review and redistribution of the modified definition of punk rock starts to tame their minds. This explains when some tried to convince the world that a certain type of fast, electronic music is the new punk, or free jazz is punk. Occasionally it gets real chaotic and hardcore is called folk music. Side note: right now it’s 2020 and even if you have the words punk and hardcore tattooed on your body it is fine to own parts of the Acutel series or microdose yourself at some contemporary classical music event and tell your fellow radical rockers: you had a great Tuesday evening at this gallery where the performance took place. You basically can do whatever the fuck you want and within this freedom I state: this record is not punk at all. Which does not mean it is bad, because it is decent music that my dad would appreciate, too—but don’t worry, he does not possess a leather vest, nor wears a man bun, instead he was jamming me MC5 and ART ENSEMBLE OF CHICAGO when I was around eight years old. This record sends me into that period when playing rock and roll was a radical act, tap water contained LSD, hippies started cults and robbed banks, and wars were either proxy or cold. Although it is a compilation of bands (FURY, DISTANCE, LIQUID DIAMONDS, TESTORS) which all had SONNY VINCENT, the proper curation made the record consistent yet varied enough not to ever become boring. Sound-wise the tracks are on the edge of psychedelic rock but no real chaotic mumbo-jumbo, rather large, extended solos. Everything is sweaty-face-in-trance-desperation tight, mostly mid tempo and big riffs accompany male sorrow. The atmosphere of the record is dirty, tired, coming down from a trip and looking either for epiphany while staring into the rising sun or for scavenging for an early breakfast before fainting onto a dirty mattress. It is closer to ROKY ERICKSON than to STOOGES, definitely not glam at all and also distant from the proto-punk art rock of the VELVET UNDERGROUND. In case you are done with the one-finger solos used on two-thirds of your hardcore songs, here is a whole catalog to lift ideas from, or in case you like to consume weed and get lost in classic sounding but still rocking albums or to be a rock dad with obscure knowledge, this can be your pick. It’s a fun listen.
BOB was an absolutely flipped-out art-punk quartet in early ’80s San Francisco who put out two singles and an LP on NOVAK’s Dumb Records imprint before falling apart, and this new anthology collects that entire recorded output with the addition of a really great fold-out insert with archival photos and an interview with the band. The first BOB 7″ from 1980 (“The Things That You Do” / “Thomas Edison”) remains a total US DIY classic, two raucous rushes of shrieking, call-and-response male/female vocals and Morse code rhythms—think fellow Bay Area freaks PINK SECTION, or even really early B-52’S—pushed to an even weirder extreme given that an urgently bashed vibraphone was the instrument at the front and center of both songs. BOB’s subsequent records lost some of that frenetic edge and leaned more into an oddball new wave direction that, thanks to the still-present vibraphone, could almost be described as mutant lounge (the less wound-up counterpart to No Wave’s mutant disco explorations?). In my original memories from picking up 1983’s Backward LP, none of the songs left quite as strong of an impression as that first single, but revisiting them in the context of this compilation, I honestly have a renewed appreciation for a lot of it—”Bird Lanes” or “(My Pal) Joe” aren’t really too far removed from Hardcore-era DEVO or mid-to-late-period SUBURBAN LAWNS. Mandatory listening for enthusiasts of the most off-kilter sounds to come out of the 1980s punk underground.
This one-sided, one-track picture disc comes with a flexi disc of the same track. OK, it’s not actually a picture disc, Pirate’s Press emphasizes that this is a UV digitally-printed record that sounds better than a conventional picture disc. But realistically, people are not gonna buy this to play in on a turntable. You can download the track for a buck, if you want to listen to it. The front of the record has the band’s logo with transparent red glowing eyes, and the back has a full-color fisheye photo of the band playing at Eli’s Mile High Club in Oakland. They look genuinely stoked. The band is made up of RANCID’s Matt Freeman, guitarist Andrew McGee, and drummer Jason Willer of ALARIC, CROSS STITCHED EYES, and several classic punk reunion bands. The track sounds like MOTÖRHEAD and Matt Freeman’s unique vocals evoke RANCID’s first self-titled album. People who want this, you know who you are!
These kids get more fierce with each release. Fast, nasty hardcore punk from Pittsburgh, CHILLER kills it with the breakdowns, drop the leads in where they belong, front everything with ’80s Midwest HC vocal intensity, and they barely pass the 60-second mark in the process. “Whistler” is my choice cut with its disjointed riff and disorienting beat, but there are no bad choices here.
Archival reissue of forgotten post-punk from the early 1980s. Disc one, recorded as a bass-drums-synth trio based in Wisconsin and originally released as a cassette in 1981, seems to be divided into more abrasive “Severance” tracks and pop-oriented “Enticement” cuts; the former captures a bit of the tension personified by better-documented NYC no wave or UK post-punk acts, while the latter fades into “quirky” new wave blandness. Interestingly, disc two, recorded a few years later after the vocalist relocated to Australia and (as far as I can tell) never properly released, moves further into minimal synth soundscapes, offering a restrained, yet somehow more intense sonic experience. Overall this leans toward pretentious arty indulgence but despite its imperfections is worth investigating.
Brutal, fast, straight-edge hardcore from Vienna, Austria. DREGS’ debut vinyl release is totally fucking unstoppable. Singer Julie’s scathing and unrelenting vocals are backed up by the most pounding of hardcore breakdowns, occasional noodly guitar solos, and mysterious noise compositions at the beginning and end of the record. This is thrashy, intense and brilliant.
Acerbic but pleasure-filled art punk from NC. Nervous frenetic spasms of sound, got that 99 Records feeling in spades! An investigation into the post-Leeds post-punk sound with significant early-’80s NYC LES dancier side of no wave additions. Really great, almost pop songs but fucked up in a good sorta end times, imagine early ’80s Athens new wave art school mannerisms. If you are into FRENCH VANILLA, BUSH TETRAS, ’n other wilder art school sounds expounded upon in Erika Elizabeth’s MRR columns this will indeed suit yr needs!
It’s about time this was reissued on vinyl, and I’m thrilled Sealed Records did such an excellent job. Alongside California brethren like CRUCIFIX, DIATRIBE, or (to a lesser degree) BATTALION OF SAINTS, California’s ICONOCLAST was one of the first DISCHARGE-style bands in the US, and their 1983 demo tape on side A is one of the finest (until now) cassette-only ’80s hardcore recordings. Like the aforementioned, ICONOCLAST upped the intensity level of the UK-born style—their driving, garagey demo tracks are the perfect amalgamation of VARUKERS-esque bludgeon and POISON IDEA-style USHC fury. Side B collects their other recordings: a pair of seriously ripping live tracks from compilations plus their 1985 EP originally released on Flipside Records. That disc featured a mix of styles—a muddy rehash of a couple older HC songs plus a pair of more “matured” peace-punk cuts. I remembered the EP as being a disappointing about-face, though its inclusion here is appreciated now as simply a different expression from a group of idealistic young punks. Complete with an extensive booklet, this compilation is mandatory listening.
Horror punk with a vocal-heavy production and rather over-the-top bedroom mania guitar solos on some tracks (“Sufi the Dead” specifically). Subtle surf vibes on a few tracks, but the two sounds go hand in hand, and in a good way.
Sparse and wiry sounds from Japan that are completely liberatory and free in their simplicity, like a modern-day continuation of the coloring-outside-the-lines approach of countless girl-centered punk geniuses from KLEENEX to the NIXE to NEO BOYS—trebly minimalist guitar, rubbery bass lines, perfectly stripped-down drumming, and ecstatically joyous vocals. “Join the LCD” zig-zags into some more angular, choppy start/stop rhythms without losing its playfulness and melody, and “She Left This Town” even reminds me of bands like CHIN CHIN that existed in that transitional period between early 80s UK DIY and the dawn of C86, drawing equally from spiky post-punk and shambling, jangly pop. Short and sweet (six songs in under twelve minutes); highly recommended if this one escaped your radar when it appeared last year!
NATIONS ON FIRE was an important part of the European SXE scene—the Belgian part of which emerged around the Vort’n Vis squat—and was more radical politically than maybe what you think of when you think of “Edge People” now, who seem mostly engaged with clothing choices and high kicks, an aesthetic 1988 reenactment activity. This record was made in response to a moment when bands/kids that came out of that VEGAN REICH hardline goofus reality were making anti-choice “pro-life” records and zines and I think it’s important to acknowledge that. Such a bleak time! I saw this band play sometime in the early ’90s, but didn’t really remember what they sounded like, just that they were smart/engaging (I think I got some zines from them?!). Musically this reminds me of pre-emo ENDPOINT—the lyrics are radical, feminist, left-wing, also very straightforward and earnest in that way every SXE band can’t seem to help. It’s a time capsule from the early ’90s, the artwork/layout reminds me of zines from back then (Kill the Robot/Simba/Positron, etc. etc.) even the way the drums sound is really distinctive to this time?! This is a glossy reissue as is typical with Refuse Records, has extra live tracks from the same era of the band the LP was recorded, and I think if you saw this band/are nostalgic for this era of hardcore it’s worth checking out…
Imagine a collision of ’80s SoCal and ’80s Berlin, not quite one or the other enough to not stay on the bridge. The hooks are there, but so is the stark darkness that creeps through even the upbeat numbers. NERVOUS ASSISTANT keeps it fast and keeps to the shit-hot guitar-based hooks instead of leaning on tonnage or production—not to say that Bitter Pills doesn’t sound great, because it does, but the focus remains on the songs. Makes me even more bummed that I walked into Eli’s as they were wrapping the last song of their set a couple of years back…
NINE CIRCLES formed in the early ’80s after all the men in a broken-up band formed new bands with their girlfriends to compete for a radio station competition. NINE CIRCLES won, and listening to this you can see why. Awkward, dark, damaged monotone art wave synth oscillations that sort of hover in the space between paranoia and irony and dreams… Lidia has a cool voice and this has an ominous, doomed feeling, that decay-of-the-cities style of the era encapsulated in sound. NINE CIRCLES became a minimal synth cult long after they broke up, and this reissue has a ton of never-properly-released stuff. I think if you are into synth-tinged damage from an underground/DIY punk perspective this would very much work for you…
