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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!
Enigmatic post-punk from São Paulo. “Cleo” could have easily fit on the Rough Trade roster in 1979: jangling, clattering funky post-punk, with a smattering of sax. On the flip, “As Bruxas” takes the listener down a BAUHAUS doom spiral: a darker sound introduced by more chorus on the guitar lends the whole thing a more gothic vibe. A great introduction that left this listener wanting more. There’s an album from 2014 that I will be investigating forthwith.
A thing I don’t do often: sit down and listen to a modern (or old) Oi! record. The Lord of the Rings-like orchestral instrumental is an appropriate introduction, as there’s an epic dual-guitar approach to all three tracks. Without relying on cheesy Oi! tendencies, FUERZA BRUTA is just pure honest and tough punk sung in Spanish, with huge gang vocals and good hooks. I even perceive a hardcore influence in production and delivery. Good-lookin’ old school styled glue pocket sleeve, too. Get it and get trampled.
This is one of the best releases I’ve heard in 2019. Imagine Damaged-era BLACK FLAG, with vocals that sound like HOAX, and some VOID-esque riffs thrown in the mix. The whole package—the music, the lyrics, the album art—sort of has this sense of yuckiness to it: the discomfort you might feel from, say, stepping in puke. Two things really bring that out: the sporadic BLACK FLAG-y single-note lead riffs, and the raw screaming of hella self-deprecating lyrics such as “Tongue turns to jelly / The thoughts in my belly / Fist to my forehead / Frustration” and “Existing for existence’s sake / Consuming for consumption’s sake / When it comes to things / I only take.”
Stark raving madness from subterranean Los Angeles, circa 2015. Ya see, Ritual Death was FREAK’s lone offering, these sounds heretofore available only via a handful o’ scattered demo tapes. Vague Absolutes, in their infinite and drool-prompting wisdom, pressed 107 copies (!) to 7″ wax, which is at least 393 too few if ya ask me. FREAK’s fury and filth—gutter-level blood-drip ugliness—is so expertly communicated, so literate, that you’ll think you’re dreamin’. Thug vocals, bashing rhythm, slither riffing, real grime, too punk. As with the wondrous (and FREAK-related) INDEX demo that Vague Absolutes excavated a few years ago, here’s a bright fuckin’ light on a band that’s far too sick to ignore. So fucking good! Probably a goner by the time you see this, but know that it exists and know that it fucking destroys.
The punk duck from that old Bubble Yum commercial is all grown up (with a red mohawk this time), sporting an Antifa neck tattoo on the cover of this CD (I can get down with that), and presumably drinking with the boys at the pub or whatever (ehh…). The music is barely-tolerable bar punk, where one moment is indistinguishable from the next (except for the gang vocals, which make me prefer their default state of monotony), and their song “Overpopulation” regurgitates that stupid liberal eugenics myth. At least there’s a funny song about Lars (not that one, the other one) selling out because he shaved his head.
One of the best examples of nervous college art damage to have graced this meager continent! The title track is a sprawling, taut catchy masterwork of tension, and VU / FEELIES / early TALKING HEADS / COME ON incantations that should make you wanna fervently consume this immediately! This wild scene was happening in Wichita in 1981! The cover art has killer George Grosz meets Zap Comix damage which is adds to the fact that this is a perfect 12″! Each song creates its own world you will want to root around in or observe ironically from yr detached, too-smart-to-art student drop out mind. This is pop music that deconstructs punk! Why not grab this reissue and use it as a guide book to do the same?
Ummm…tough guy hardcore mixed with mall punk? Or maybe this is just mall punk now. Heavy guitars and drums with brutal-dude vocals. It’s shocking how it sounds so metallic and tough one moment, and super poppy the next. They must really be trying to make it, with eighteen sponsor logos on the rear cover. Four tracks from this Hungarian band.
Four years following the excellent Positive Energy, we are presented with the dense Positive Disintegration. The overall tone here is sullen and tragic, distinctly marked by a subdued, deadpan vocal style and repetitious rotating rhythms. Build-until-release style songwriting, pulsating and throbbing drum sounds, but they’re still a “rock band.” Simple guitar hooks act as choruses, and the vocals appear almost as a support to the strong rhythm section, but it’s important to note the relevant lyrical themes. Relatable, biting criticism and satire of our social circles, ourselves, and the society that we wish we weren’t inherently a part of. Predictably, my favorite is the most uptempo “Foreign Policy,” which has an unmistakable CHAMELEONS vibe, and appears to be a critique of the way their fellow Germans approach Palestinian struggle (cue applause). It’s hard not to think of TOTAL CONTROL, though DIÄT feels a bit more focused (just to be clear, I’m not choosing either one). This album doesn’t smack you in the face like the last, but if you show up, it might sneak up behind and drag you into a dark pit of hellish reality.
If you’re a fan of eerie, surfy instrumentals, you’re in luck, as the ORIONS deliver two of them. ARNO DE CEA are seemingly into the same sort of thing, though their guitar gets a little more grindy. Both bands do it well. It’s also nicely produced and mixed, without sounding too produced. Nice effort.
Oakland’s CRONANDER fucks around with skate thrash, with heavy touches of metal and classic rock thrown in the mix. The vocals deal with the utter and complete dissatisfaction of modern daily life, adding no hyperbole and pulling no punches. Like, there’s an anti-cop song that the singer claims he wrote at age ten, and that same bluntness permeates the lyrics throughout. If you go to a skate park and see a dude skating in tight, faded blue jeans and a THIN LIZZY shirt, give him this CD and y’all will probably spend the afternoon stoned. Members of ANNIHILATION TIME and ANS.
Holy pop, Batman! A new one from Bloomington Indiana’s COWBOYS, and it’s all pop. Somehow, they seem to channel more of an Anglo-centric UK sound, recalling some end of the ’70s first- wave poppers with a mix of straight riff o’ rama Á la PROTEX/ UNDERTONES, and more angular sounds like XTC or THE JAM. The best part is they stay true to form, and these songs all top out around three minutes, so if you’re not feeling one song, it’s only about a minute to the next. Comes with a cool fold-out poster and the hype sticker is penned by Eddie Flowers of the GIZMOS.
Portland’s COLLATE continue with their angular and distinctive sound. With idiosyncratic guitar and punctuated vocals, it’s like a KRAFTWERK and GANG OF FOUR mashup. “Communication” is almost robotic, with an occasional release, followed by an epic, noisy, and tangled flop at the end. Flip to side B. “Selective Memory” is strange funk with infrequent shouts, and the striking of clean, unfiltered guitar. Art school dropout punk right here.
One can almost picture CLARKO hard at work in his basement as they hear these two stripped-down, sarcastic and angsty yet bouncy solo new wave ditties. “I Just Wanna Pay” is driven by punchy synth bursts and light square wave hits, while “Medeocre Man” is more guitar-driven and a bit more brooding, as our protagonist lashes out at his subject with lines like “Your life is stupid / And I am poor!” This is one of five records in Iron Lung Records’ new Systemic Surgery series, and is now sold out.
A beautifully played piano starts out the CLOUD RAT side, coupled with delicate, warm, and haunting vocals. This seamlessly tumbles into ruthless, crust-stenched, abysmal riffs, with high and tight drums. This dark, dense, churning, hexing grind and crust reminds me of the terrifying sounds of EBOLA, the fury of INITIAL STATE, the metallic bewitching nature of CETASCEAN, and the chaotic maelstrom that came with SKARP. CLOUD RAT is all things steady punk D-beat, blasting grind, and blackened metal sorcery. THE WORLD IS A VAMPIRE calms the nerves with pulverizing, heavy drudge metal. The vocals spew forth like a cindering furnace, and the chords are subtly disharmonic, creating an off-kilter, unsettling hypnotic rhythm. Calculated but surprising effects pierce through the thick tones. Parts indie rock, parts cacophonous doom punk—I’m really digging this side too! The last track is a brilliant cover of TEARS FOR FEARS’ “Mad World.” Yes! This split is definitely recommended for the dismal, strange, and curious.
This is a funny one. Two bands, each offering up a single song, and it happens to be the same song: “Everyone’s a Urinal.” Is this a famous song that I’m not familiar with? Fuck, this is bugging me. Anyway, the CHACHI ON ACID version is a fairly straightforward punk version of the song. It’s catchy and well done. But the BUTCH HALLER take is a twangy country / rockabilly number. It’s also catchy and nicely done. Now if I could just figure out the mystery of the song.
I’m not sure why, but this record has a sort of Rip Off Records feel to it. Maybe it’s the black and white paper sleeve. Maybe it’s the relatively lo-fi production. If you’re a fan of straightforward punk rock that is raw and gritty, but still catchy and melodic, this is definitely for you. The B-side even gets a little swampy, but doesn’t lose the feel of the other cuts. This is worth going out of your way to find.
Here’s a previously unreleased 2016 recording by this German garage punk outfit that’s been at it for a few years. On “Garst,” distorted vocals, ’60s organ pulses, bouncy beats, and surfy guitars all meld together to form a rough yet groovy number that’ll make you wanna scream and do the pony. “Won’t Deny” is in a more psych vein, while not getting too trippy, and staying in the surf / garage vein. A one-sided, yellow vinyl 7″ with a riso print cover that’s worth checking out.
This record is pure evil. It has literally everything you want: moshy breakdowns, tupa-tupa beats, reverb-y vocals, DISCHARGE- esque D-beat riffs…just everything. The most obvious contemporary comparison that comes to mind is DESTINO FINAL, but this 7″ seems punchier than what that band put out. This record would definitely hold up to MURO’s Ataque Hardcore LP.
Ah shit! Usually when we get cover art containing a dystopian robot scene it almost always sounds like a third-tier MAN OR ASTROMAN?, or some dumbfucks who think they sound like DEVO (they never do). B.POLAR AND THE SPACEFUCKERS sound like fuckin’ punk and hardcore, though. Dude is screaming his head off about enslaving the humans, crop circles, the emotionless void of a robot brain, and getting the fucking Alpha Centauri skinheads off of your planet!! The backup vocals sound robotic, and the songs have some weird changes in them to keep it interesting throughout. Definitely a surprise and a rager.
It is remarkably bittersweet to be writing my final reviews for the print edition of MRR, but what a distinct honor it was to receive this reissue of one of the greatest Swedish hardcore EPs ever…that was followed up by nothing. As far as I’m concerned, this is pretty much the epitome of Scandinavian hardcore that captures both a melodic legendary folklore sound, and despairingly raw punk fueled with grandiose, godless hammering. Unless you want to spend $150 on one of mine, you absolutely must pick this up. It’s pretty much a flawless, organically played, sincerely furious, monstrously echoing, pulpit-orated, masterpiece of extreme/DIY music history, which inspired so many future compositions. I know that’s a lot of praise to print. Well, here’s my chance.
The seventh album from this Montreal one-man-band guy. It sounds old-timey, with a country-ish ELVIS PRESLEY twang mixed with a TAV FALCO sound. The music is rough and raw and has a great sound. Catchy, fun, and sultry.
I feel like a BLANKZ single comes in every month. Prolific! “Getting Over You” is really slick pop punk of the Fat Wreck variety. The new wave keys seem to be the only deviation from the force-fed processed punk here. “Barfly” is more of the same, though fares a lil’ better, and actually reminds me of HEAD if they were going the tuff-guy route. Still, it’s too artificially sweet for me to choke down.
This midwest band plays punk metal. This five-song EP is sometimes screamo and sometimes sung vocals, with lots of musical chops and twists. Although I like somewhat similar bands like STRUNG OUT and PROPAGANDHI, as well as metal in general, this just sounds too generically thrashy for me.
Splattering metal punk from the Scandinavian hive of hardcore: Malmö, Sweden. BLACK UNIFORMS play motörcharged D-beat raw punk for all the moonlight rambling crashers. You get G-ZET, INEPSY, NAILBITER, and DIS-BONES style bammers, and heck, it even sounds like AMEBIX at times. This CD has both the original 1989 version of Faces of Death and the 2001 remastering. You know you want it!
Wow, what an unexpected record. The first track starts out with a Two-Tone/DEXY’S MIDNIGHT RUNNERS-style ska / soul punk vibe. Things progress into more early aughts OH SEES psych-pop, with weird sunshine pop vibes like ARIEL PINK. From there, it’s like hard- wave OINGO BOINGO—they really are going there. Not sure what the typical MRR fan would think of all this, but it’s cool to hear people testing the waters with always poppy but somewhat unconventional results. On red wax with insert.
It’s not just a clever name, this band is pissed off. Remember how in the ’90s, there were all these bands infatuated with the DWARVES and playing punk songs as fast as humanly possible? This band fits right in with all that crazy-off-the-rails madness. Half shitty CIRCLE JERKS, half shitty JUDAS PRIEST. All songs about anger, revenge, and destruction. This shit is crazy. But if you need a good soundtrack to blow off some steam and drive like a maniac, this is your ticket.
At every turn on this LP, the BECAUSE channels the same humid yet sensitive roaring that I equate with noteworthy vintage acts via (ahem) No Idea Records and the ilk. Their devotion to the form is quite studied: there’s this barreling sound, anthem-focused, tension-and-release style. Trouble is, there’s no teeth, no deviance, barely anything punk beyond their mid-tempo charge. Underwhelming.
I find it a little disheartening that my last print reviews for MRR should start out this way. I know that over the years, I’ve been pigeonholed into the garage rock sphere, but I’ve been writing for this magazine for 29 years, and I can say to most: “I was a punk before you were a punk, punk.” This is roots rock music with an emotive singer who unfortunately reminds me of EDDIE VEDDER. It’s slick and well-played and Japanese and might come across better if I wasn’t feeling so nostalgic. But the heavy grunge vibe is just too much.
Two Milwaukee pop punk bands team up to give us a super fun pogo-inducing album! SIN BAD deliver a more power pop sound that might be equitable to GATEWAY DISTRICT or WORRIERS. BAD WIG is still very much pop punk, but has heavy garage elements. A mix of OBLIVIANS, REIGNING SOUND, and DINOSAUR JR can be heard in their songs. They also toy with some emo elements, so their sound chills out every once in a while. Start with the SIN BAD side for the sugar high and end with BAD WIG for the slow headbang. Great record! Milwaukee has always and will always rule. Don’t listen to the haters!
Very scrappy pop punk from Olympia, WA. Like a messy FASTBACKS trying to play PROTEX with a bratty attitude. So yes, it is awesome! Perfect sweaty basement freakout music. Songs about relationships, self doubt, desire, and boredom. Badass!
France’s STUNTMAN bring us some pummeling metallic grind. This is a band that can do the hair-pulling sludge agony just as well as they do the machine gun maelstrom. Grindcore forever! The UK’s ART OF BURNING WATER throw down a little bit of proper powerviolence—maybe too little. My issue with their side is that the first and longer song is OK, but it’s more like a buildup / intro song. Then the second song is fucking sick as shit, but it’s only like twenty seconds long, and that’s the end of the record. It’s like, dude, you gotta save that intro song for the LP. That being said, it’s still a pretty cool listen.
Portland’s ARTERIES take everything we know about the last 40 years of punk, and distill it down to a concentrated liqueur of all the best elements. Freaky and experimental, they weave otherworldly anthems with haunting group vocals, effervescent synth effects, persistent post- punk basslines, and unexpected turns. It brings to mind the unlikely combination of sounds like the SCREAMERS and LOST CHERREES. Members of Portland’s RED HERRING and RAW NERVES. I am blown away by how great this is.
This tuneful band has a lot of SoCal history, with ex-members of JOYRIDE, MANIC HISPANIC, CADILLAC TRAMPS, and DI. This also includes a song by Steve Soto, who was also in JOYRIDE. This reminds me of the country side of recent SOCIAL DISTORTION, with nice harmonies and instrumentation. Not for thrashers, but this is pretty good stuff for the aging punk circuit.
How appropriate that ACTIVE MINDS have a review in the final print issue of MRR, as a band that seem to have been flying the flag for DIY punk and hardcore almost as long as the mag has been around (or at least as long as I remember!). This is just the latest in a vast discography of fiercely political hardcore punk in a variety of guises, whether DISCHARGE worship or melodic LEATHERFACE type fare, but always with a message first and foremost. Several of the songs on this record are based loosely around the titular theme of religious hypocrisy and exploitation of children. Did I mention it comes wrapped in a printed ACTIVE MINDS patch?! It really does my heart good to know that these folk are still at it, still active.
A compilation of four bands whose collective goal as described by the CD’s narrator is to “take back punk” from the people who impose the punk rules. Isn’t that supposed to be MRR? NEVER SAY DIE plays rockabilly-ish redneck rock. SUPERMEN are macho ANTISEEN types. THE RUNZ play anthemic hard rock. LONG LOST ENEMIES are poppy hardcore. Eh. Good luck.
As we witness the decay of the physical parts of punk, like the disappearance of the printed word and the records we used to hold in our hands, one of the earliest casualties was always going to be the compilation LP. These motherfuckers are hard to make good, you know? It’s like going to those goddamn ten band bill shows, where five people watch the band they came to see, and everyone goes outside to smoke during the rest of the night. So when I hear a comp LP in 2019 of bands I’ve never heard of and find it to be completely listenable and varied, I get pretty fucking stoked. Slobbery two-finger metal, tolerable Fat stuff, pop punk, dark synthy post-punk, drooling robo punk, cleaned-up crust, and even some fucking ska metal. I gotta hand it to these fine folks, as this is all over the place and still not fucking terrible. There’s a shit ton of sneer and bile in almost all the vocals, like every singer went to the same laryngitis-inducing singing school. Seventeen tracks, and financed by seven different record labels, which is kinda goofy, but hey, that’s the price you gotta pay to put out records in a time when nobody is buying. Definitely worth checking out.
Despite being a Texan and a Texas punk enthusiast, I never heard Live at Raul’s. I always assumed it was more important to be equipped with the BIG BOYS / DICKS Recorded Live at Raul’s LP (it is). Raul’s was a club in Austin that accidentally became a hub for new wave / punk in the late ’70s through the early ’80s, and these tracks were crisply captured via mobile studio. Five local bands, two tracks each, many of which were unreleased at the time. The EXPLOSIVES, TERMINAL MIND, and the SKUNKS tracks are all edgy rock, the latter two being the punkest. STANDING WAVES are more new wave, while the NEXT is the most confrontational and best, as I expected. With the exception of the NEXT tracks, it all errs on the side of pop rock. This reissue is limited to 500 copies, and has a reproduction of the flyer for the gig, and some decent live band shots. Live records are polarizing but I am happy to report that it’s easy to forget this is live until the applause at the end of the tracks. Essential? No, unless you’re a completist.
I seem to recall the last record I reviewed from these goofy chaps as being a hokey, countryfied, fake-ass punk hoedown that I surprisingly totally loved the absolute shit out of. Although it seems like they have hit the acid pretty hard since we last met, I still love it, even though I realize that it makes no sense that I do. Opening your record with an instrumental surf number, throwing around lazer noises all willynilly, monosyllabic wailing, with album art that looks like a modern take on Rip Off Press (but from space). Cowboy-hat-wearing, reverb-drenched country punk is something that I would absolutely adore to make fun of, but just like their earlier output, this is surprisingly fun as fucking hell. This comparison might only affect about twenty five readers, and they would most certainly all be as old and as Southern as I am, but try and imagine a modern take on early DASH RIP ROCK, but punk enough that you wouldn’t be ashamed of it, or have to explain your adoration of it to your kids. Sorry, but this is good.
This. Is. Awesome! I did a double-take when I saw this in my pile of records to review, as the only WITCHES HAMMER I knew of was the legendary Canadian thrash metal band, and sure enough this is a reissue of their debut release. Musically, it’s an absolute milestone in crossover history: raw and frantic, with an obvious punk influence bubbling below the surface (D-beats are present, for example). It was and is a great record, but the most appealing element of this package is the amazing, hefty booklet which includes band photos, flyers (WITCHES HAMMER performed plenty of DIY gigs with the likes of SNFU, the ACCÜSED, the BONELESS ONES, DOA, and VERBAL ABUSE), and a lengthy band history by guitarist Marco that makes it very clear that the band were more comfortable interacting with and performing for Vancouver’s punk scene than metalheads. Supreme Echo have put together a superlative package here: the remastered material sounds great, the pocket sleeve is sturdy and glossy, and the booklet is as good as anything you’d get from a reissue label like Radio Raheem or GTA. This’ll obviously mostly appeal to the crossover-curious, but anyone with an interest in Canadian punk history will enjoy the archival material included. This is a top-quality reissue and one that I am surprised and pleased to see included in the pages and archives of MRR.
I’m afraid TIMMY VULGAR might be getting too stuck in his ways. I wouldn’t say this record is predictable, but I’ve come to expect his records to sound like this. VULGAR plays all the instruments on this LP, as well as singing in his distinctive, emotive style. The guitars are wailing, and the synths are soaring. The sounds are raw and futuristically primitive. “Suction Cup Hands” is my favorite song on the LP. It’s got a catchy guitar riff that combines nicely with the rhythm track and VULGAR’s rambling vocal. It’s pretty cool.
Big, full-sounding indie jams here from this Chicago trio that includes an ex-PONY. The first track builds up from a brooding, proggy intro into a fuzzed- out krautrock jam that sets the tone for the rest of the album. Bleeding shards of guitar keen around organ-driven melodies atop a relentless drum boogie. The vocals drip with slacker ennui that falls somewhere between THEE OH SEES and DINOSAUR. The opening track and “Punks Inbred” are the standout tracks for me, but overall this is a strong, cohesive album.
Austin, Texas’ VAASKA play six ripping tracks of high-pitched, ’80s Finnish inspired hardcore, echoing brutal flavor and a buzzing guitar tone that is stinging, with confident lyrics in Spanish spat forth with furious power. Crushing hardcore along the lines of MELLAKKA, RAJOITUS, and LAMA. I can’t say anything bad about the release, and yet I struggle to find a particularly stand out thing about it. It clobbers with D-beat fire, and the tones are freakishly coarse static hissing. That’s the big takeaway. My hearing loss.
Here are some old thrashers out of San Francisco showing the youngsters how to shed for real! No fucking bullshit, blaring hardcore chock full of blastbeat venom and foaming-at-the-mouth rage. Like most folks from the Bay Area, their anger is directed squarely at techies and the rest of the Silicon Valley nightmare, even invoking the Unabomber in one song. If you love ’90 Bay Area powerviolence and hate your smartphone, check this out.
The blank side of this EP holds beautifully silkscreened plants and leaves, and though they’re simple, I love them. They are pretty and delicate, which did not set me up for the music. This is sad dude music in the same vein as the LAWRENCE ARMS or the METHADONES. It’s modern punk rock for sad kids that can still drink a few beers and make it home to sleep in their own filth somewhat responsibly, but just dangerously enough to concern their parents and close friends who have watched them slowly deteriorate. This is lose your voice and forget half the night material. “Pill to Swallow” starts out with the singer shouting “Cigarettes bring out the worst in you,” and it felt like it was directed at me. Stop judging me, sir.
To be honest, with this moniker, and ridiculous album cover art which falls somewhere betwixt a long lost LOVERBOY record and maybe the “least memorable emo band from the next town over’s third LP from 1997,” I did not have high hopes. It’s pretty damn killer, though. At first, this just seemed like somewhat likeable, dirty-yet-probably-hot rocker dude styled HELLACOPTERS-by-way-of-Minneapolis heroin type of bullshit, but this shit is fucking great on repeat. Innernettes research says this band broke up in 2004, and these are outtakes from their sixteen- year-old album, but it’s remarkably fresh and urgent, energetic as hell, basement bound rock’n’roll. The kind of rock’n’roll you pay attention to. It looks like I missed the boat on this band, and I am a lesser person because of that. I’m sorry I’ve let you down, Dad.
This looks exactly as it sounds: three cool teenage punk girls making tremulous punk rock with songs dedicated to John Peel, Bruce from the JAM, and their favorite chocolate bar! This isn’t wild screaming KBD mania, they have a nervous restrained quality, which is not to say this sounds inept, just that it isn’t the manic punk insanity you might expect from a teenage Swedish band circa 1981. They called their band Sport Is Dead, and formed as a result of being fans of the BUZZCOCKS and the UNDERTONES, and you can hear the nervous pop sensibility! I’ve seen comparisons to DOLLY MIXTURE and LILIPUT, but I would say that is not the case here, they are not as polished as the former and not as wild as the latter. They have their own contained punk concept and identity that doesn’t sound like a collage of other ideas. This is a reissue of their demo tape with a live performance on the B-side. It sounds great and is definitely worth picking up for all fans of that underground girl sound, the sound of youth inspired by the DIY ideal…
Lyrical, literate jangle-pop with melodies galore and a ton of personality. STRANGE PASSAGES definitely seem to draw inspiration from ’80s indie sounds, which is no bad thing. The bright production emphasizes the guitar interplay, while the dedication to songcraft shines through. I’m no REM fan, but this makes me think of that band’s more upbeat, less over-wrought material—especially in the vocals. Great stuff.
If you’re a fan of powerviolence, SPAZZ should be one of the first five bands that come to your mind. This album originally came out in 1997, and it stands the test of time. SPAZZ has the humor, the riffs to back it up, and they play it in their patented no-slow-all-go style that is a runaway bullet train driving off of a cliff into space. Fuck you. SPAZZ forever.
So this punky indie rock bands reminds me of ARCHERS OF LOAF, KNAPSACK, and THE PIXIES. Good influences, but not nearly on that level. There needs to be more new bands like this, but I just wish the tunes here grabbed me more.
Hypnotic, shoegazing psyche-influenced bar rock with a grunge twang that I kind of love. The vocals are great, and definitely have a punk howling that has matured like fine mead. All the good parts of FUCKED UP, the Twin Peaks soundtrack, and the MERMEN. A solid, timeless, rock release. A short and sweet EP, like this review.
