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!
A truly rabid hardcore attack from Athens, GA, FOODEATER comes in too fast for love on this tape’s first track and barely lets up for the remaining twelve songs. Rarely do we get this type of blistering punk at such volume, especially on a debut effort. What they lack in subtlety and nuance they make up for with rowdy relentlessness and conviction, and this cassette should come with a little packet of aspirin.
Synths and punk—it’s not that they don’t mix, but it’s tough enough to blend the two that it’s generally advisable to keep them separate. All too often, you’ll end up sounding like a punk band with a synth rather than a synth punk band. This is especially true when you opt for some squiggly new wave timbre. Now, I’m not sure GHOULIES—a Perth act featuring members of ABORTED TORTOISE and KITCHEN PEOPLE—avoid this pitfall entirely, but it definitely doesn’t sound like they just have a synth going in the background (or worse, drowning out the rest of the band). Over the seven tracks on this EP, they weave synth lines—often very silly ones—into their brand of frenetic, start/stop garage punk, and it really gives the record a delirious edge that pairs nicely with the unhinged, multi-tracked vocals you’re getting on a lot of these tracks. Not every track on here works, but the ones that don’t are still short enough that you’ll barely notice. At the very least, give the opening track “B.O.” a listen—it smokes!
A tape of demos and live tracks by these legendary Indiana proto-punks, who’ve had more afterlife than they did actual life. There’s early versions of future GIZMOS classics like “Human Garbage Disposal” and “Kiss of the Rat” and others that would be heard on later releases. They’ve included a live recording of the band stumbling joyfully out-of-tune through their obnoxious ode to oral, “Muff Divin,” at a drunken house party. Also included is a previously unreleased recording of the first jam session the group had together (in the kitchen of Gulcher’s Bob Richart), being true rock’n’roll nerds as they laugh their way through covers of KISS, the STOOGES, and “Rambling Rose” by the MC5 (with the Brother JC Crawford “Are You Ready to Testify?” intro intact, natch). It’s these recordings that make this a compelling reissue, giving it personality and a story, which is so much more interesting than upholding obscurity for obscurity’s sake. This is a Legendary Guitar Amp Tapes type of recording that will give all GIZMOS completists out there some real Hoosier hysteria.
In just ten minutes, HUGAYZ managed to create a rollercoaster of a cassette. Their sound is hard to pin down. It’s part no wave, part post-punk, another part disco. There isn’t an instrument on this tape that isn’t quirky to an extreme. From cheesy ’80s drum machines to the squirrely synthesizers, the instrumentation gives the sound its character. This is certainly the type of release that you will either love with a burning passion or hate like nothing else.
I’m really, really excited about this record, and haven’t been able to stop listening to it since it came out—definitely one of the best things I have heard in a while. This band has people from different places from Latin America and they all play in different amazing punk bands, so for me this is the perfect mix. The whole record is incredible, amazing Latino “tupa tupa.” You should not miss any second of it, and it will not take more than twenty minutes to finish the whole album, as it should be. If I have to choose a favourite track, it is “Ejecutar” for sure.
I’m so happy to review these two short blasts of inflammable devices by our favorite Italian-British band, LA RABBIA, both released last year. LA RABBIA is a London-based band with a really cool take on the sounds of anarcho-punk, with some more classic ’77 edge to it. Their last album, In the Face of Atrocities, was reviewed last year by yours truly, so I was pretty pleased by their new offerings, where they continue to explore and expand on their particular sound. “Ideological Weapons” and “Nostro Obitorio” are two gems of pure political fury, like a goth EATER making really dark songs after reading Gramsci. Pretty neat. Now on The Setting in Motion of Horrific Events EP, the band keeps their characteristic tension but wraps it in a much more dynamic sound, somewhere between deathrock and street punk, and with a bonus point, a burgeoning ability to create great hooks and melodies. My favorite track was the one that closes the EP, “La Vulnerabilita,” with a huge, almost Oi! kind of chorus that you just want to scream at the top of your lungs.
If you dwell in obscure femme-punk circles, there’s a good chance you’ve heard “Take a Ride” by the QUESTIONS—a wildly catchy, almost BUZZCOCKS-ish punky power pop (or poppy power punk?) bop, the song was never officially released, but gets regularly excerpted from a cult 1979 film called La Brune et Moi whose loose narrative (buttoned-up businessman falls in love with an aspiring punk singer) was basically used to stitch together “live” performances from a host of early French punk/new wave acts. The QUESTIONS were actually LES LOU’S, the first all-female punk band in France (two male friends filled in on drums and lead guitar for their film appearance after their original drummer split)—they started out in 1977, quickly landed on tours with the likes of the CLASH, RICHARD HELL, and SUBWAY SECT, but only managed two 1978 comp contributions as their recorded output before falling apart the following year. This four-song archival 12″ clears out the LES LOU’S vault with both of those previously released tracks (a live cover of the SEEDS’ “No Escape” and studio cut “Back in the Street”), plus “Take a Ride” (pulled directly from La Brune et Moi yet again, complete with incidental background sounds!) and the unreleased live track “Wild Fire.” Like fellow French first-wavers MARIE ET LES GARÇONS, LES LOU’S’ minimally-chorded rock’n’roll rave-ups circle back to the VELVET UNDERGROUND/MODERN LOVERS model, with just enough leather-jacketed raw power to push it into punk; Francophone girls occupying their own private ’77 CBGBs. The rest of their recovered offerings might be far from lost classics, but “Take a Ride” is still unquestionably (no pun intended) a stroke of minor genius however it’s presented.
I gotta say, I’d seen this record in distros and always assumed based on the cover that it was some synthy Factory Records-worship by a lone band—MONONEGATIVES. Turns out this record does feature a synth…that’s maybe wielded in a less new wave-y manner than I was imagining, but also there’s a whole other band on here! MYSTERY GIRL is not the name of the record. Instead, they’re a punky power pop band out of Albany, NY, who kick things off with a couple tracks. “Loveline” starts as a somewhat ripping garage pop track that crashes into an odd cooing power pop chorus with really off-kilter harmonies. It caught me way off guard at first, but I came to appreciate its strangeness by the track’s end. For their other song, they slow down the BOYS’ “Tumble With Me” and turn it into some NEW YORK DOLLS-esque swagger rock. It’s a cool cover! London, Ontario’s MONONEGATIVES close things out with three tracks of synth-drenched, garage-y post-punk. A track like “Time Warp” even justifies my inkling about what this record would sound like—the bass line could have been plucked from an early NEW ORDER track. But overall these guys’ vibe is way heavier, and they come off sounding like a less gimmicky and more overtly post-punk SERVOTRON…or maybe a weedier A FRAMES. Either way, I’m into it!
A 2020 reissue of a South Bay band with San Pedro connections to the MINUTEMEN and SACCHARINE TRUST. While similar to those two bands in their lack of hardcore orthodoxy, MOOD OF DEFIANCE also lacks either those bands’ experimental musicality or oddball X-factor, mostly creating a plodding, mid-tempo hippie punk sound that nods at deathrock and nudges at psychedelia but doesn’t really go far out in either direction.
Imagine early JUDAS PRIEST at its speediest, with shrieking, echoing black metal-style vocals, and that is NATTMARAN. Nominally out of Sweden, this old-school thrash powerhouse is actually an international collaboration of Michael Lang (Sweden) on guitar and bass, Koji Sawada (Japan) on drums, and Yoga Beges (Indonesia) on vocals. In fact, only the guitars and bass were recorded in Sweden. The rest of the recording, as well as the mixing and mastering, was done in Indonesia. There’s lots to like here for fans of VENOM or MOTÖRHEAD. The blackened thrash never lets up, and yet for all its grim speed, evil lyrics, and overall hostility, a nasty rock’n’roll swagger permeates every track. As blackened as it may be, on some tracks, like “There’s Nothing You Can See,” one could imagine substituting a power metal wailer’s vocals and transforming the song into a speed metal arena anthem.
Thirteen-song, long-playing debut cassette release, which appears to be the first half of the bands “nervous birds duology,” so there is presumably a Nervous Birds! Two cassette coming at some point. Upbeat indie pop, not quite gritty enough to affix the often thrown-around “punk” attachment to their “pop” genre. People who dig the pop stylings of MARKED MEN or JAWBREAKER would likely find enjoyment in this Vancouver-based band.
There’s something so perfect about the prolonged keyboard drones throughout this record. They go on for so long, hitting an ear-aching interval, that I honestly wondered at first if something was wrong with my headphones. That’s top-tier brattiness, and it serves each and every track on this synth punk classic. PACK RAT is the brainchild of CHAIN WHIP and CORNER BOYS drummer Patrick McEachnie, who wrote and performed the whole affair. On songs like “Next Time Hit Me,” McEachnie strikes a balance between the DAMNED (first record only) and something almost more akin to the boom of early 2000s bratty keyboard pop like ATOM AND HIS PACKAGE (except way better) or something cooler like the SPITS at their most android-rock. Drawing those comparisons only scratches the surface, really. What you get here is solid songwriting that sounds beautifully pissed-off and will always catch you off-guard. “I never was a virgin, I was fucked from the start” sings McEachnie on “Blame It on Me,” which really sums up the overall world view manifested in soundwaves. Top-notch prankster punk, if your idea of a good prank is blowing up someone’s toilet.
SCHEDULE 1 formed right before pandemic lockdowns, and managed to put out this debut LP in the interim. There seems to be some Vancouver, BC new-wave-that-leans-towards-emo melodic “thing” happening, and this certainly shakes that tree. Think of the KILLERS mashed up with NEW ORDER. For me it’s a little too whiny, shiny, and overproduced. All said, it’s a tight album, and SCHEDULE 1 makes some catchy dance beats.
SLUTBOMB plays metallic thrash fastcore that reminds me of CAPITALI$T ALIENATION meets wild ’90s street punk. They are by no means sloppy, but the delivery is hasty and has that intense early death/thrash delivery. Parts sound like MANKIND?, parts sound like IRON REAGAN. Lead guitar soloing is on point. There are moments of twangy country rock, quickly interrupted by churning hardcore. Honestly, I’m having a hard time describing this one. Its various changes are impressive and at times distracting. The production could be heavier on the bass-and-kick side, but SLUTBOMB has many elements of punk and metal, and it doesn’t let up—they really put a lot of songwriting into this LP, which could easily have been four spoonfuls of EP sugar. But SLUTBOMB don’t play that way. Sixteen tracks of maniacal thrashcore with anarchistic tones and filled with independent identity.
Who doesn’t love a great Scandinavian punk band? It´s been a while since I’ve heard one like SOCIALSTYRELSEN, a band that is more on the melodic side of the crust spectrum. Med Rädsla För Livet is their debut album, and what an album it is! The darkness of neocrust melodies permeates the typical Scandinavian D-beat backbone, creating a gloomy atmosphere throughout. The vocals pierce angrily through the instruments and evoke the harshness of SKITSYSTEM or AMBULANCE. A band to keep an eye out for!
Chula Vista’s TOURIST’s new cassette release consists of five tracks of crushing hardcore/fastcore hell. Even though we may not be able to call this “powerviolence” because the department of H.S.M.P. enforcement will not tolerate it, this is a closer, modernized hardcore version of the genre done very well in 2022. Tracks of anger and frustration from constant hopelessness and devastation are well suited these times. For fans of OG’s CROSSED OUT to more modern-sounding hardcore such as WEEKEND NACHOS and CURSED.
Decent hardcore from this Atlanta band. “Judgement” opens with gross, echoed vocals over crisply recorded HC/D-beat. “Hesher Fuck” stands out because of that great title. It gets repeated a lot over about two minutes of mid-tempo hardcore, which is a positive. “Grind Set” is the best song here due to some nimble rolls and blastbeats that fit the music and vocal attitude nicely. A full tape of faster, harsher songs like this one would be a treat. I would definitely listen to the next WEB release, although this one is a little by-the-numbers for me.
This record is blasted out to an extreme. Nothing is distinguishable. The vocals, guitars, drums, and every other instrument you can’t make out blend together into a noise soup. Through that all that remains is a really primal energy. It’s that loud, unrestrained, caustic energy that really invigorates the soul. There’s not much left to say about this. Despite its rough recording, it still rocks seriously hard.
The impact APATIA had on the then-emerging Polish DIY punk/HC scene is immeasurable. The first time I was in Europe, it seemed like everyone in every town would mention this band I had never heard of. I left the country with a handful of cassette releases and worked my way through their material deliberately, because APATIA isn’t really the kind of band you just put on and rage. The context, the time, the band…it’s the combination of everything that makes them work, and that’s abundantly clear in the Refuse Records reissue of their second demo from 1991. Much like many of the more genre-pushing DIY hardcore bands in the North American 1990s, they covered a ton of sonic territory, especially on their later releases, and hearing them forge those paths on these early recordings is excellent. A complete divergence from the “known” punk bands that came a few years before them, APATIA bypass traditional anthemic punk completely, opting for tough and determined hardcore mixed with a quirky originality that would have found them right at home on US labels like Very Small (the epic “Duma i Pycha +… Ciągłe Pytania” could practically be a PLAID RETINA outtake). The songs are great, and the songs are interesting, but really it’s the “where” and the “when” that makes the document mandatory—because while few bands sounded like this then, no one sounded like this there then. And Poland listened, through at least seven albums and a slew of live tapes and demos, Poland listened and Polish punks paid attention. You should pay attention, too—history is fucking important.
One three-minute track of vicious powerviolence and raw hardcore with excellent harmonic vocals. A punctuated assault of brutal blasts and breakdowns. This flexi really accentuates the band’s tightness, timing, and ferocity. It almost feels like a three-chapter musical that detonates in a chant in solidarity. Out of Baltimore, OH, for fans of ’80s UK thrashcore, anarcho/peace punk, powerviolence, hardcore, and excellent vocals. Reminded a bit of RUBBLE, MELT BANANA, HOPE?…this brief mind-bender is punk as fuck.
A strange reissue for the true Adrian Borland completists out there who are hungry for more than the SOUND and the OUTSIDERS. That isn’t to say it sounds like either of those bands, but it’s a curio nonetheless.The record is culled from a single 1978 recording session of the OUTSIDERS backing their friend Pete Williams in noisy, one-take improvi-punk weirdness. The nearest I can lodge this is maybe somewhere between the FUCKIN’ FLYIN’ A-HEADS, the AFFLICTED MAN, or the SMEGMA side project JUNGLE NAUSEA. I’ve got a certain tolerance for this type of bugged-out freaknik splatter, but while it’s an interesting document, it mostly seems like an inside joke between friends that was probably more fun to record than it actually is to listen to.
Mod teen Dave Burnett and his family emigrated from the UK and settled in Melbourne, Australia in late 1965. Shortly after arriving, he met local musician Lee Cutelle, and they quickly became life-long friends and forged a songwriting partnership—Dave wrote the lyrics and Lee wrote the music—that would last from 1966 to 1980. Reminder has pulled together their total recorded output from that period and packaged it in a very handsome gatefold sleeve with some sweet liner notes detailing their history. But to summarize, these guys would write some really catchy songs that should have been bigger than they were, fail to sell many records, then rebrand and adopt whatever sound was popular at the time. So, we start with the lone 45 from DAVE ‘N’ LEE, originally issued in 1969—two tracks of orchestrated psych-pop that fall somewhere on the spectrum between early BYRDS records and the COWSILLS. Next are the two 45s from BEAUT, named after an Aussie version of Tiger Beat and sounding like a mix of AM schmaltz and late ’70s power pop. After getting wind of the first wave of UK punk, they decided to toughen up a bit and release a 45 as BRANDED, where they played SWEET-like glam with just a dab of punk in the rough production. Then they tried their hand at punk proper in 1980, releasing a 45 as BRITISH JETS. It sounds like fake punk (because it is), but it produced what I think is the best song on the record. “No News”, which sounds surprisingly contemporary, is just some solid RAMONES-core with a catchy power pop chorus. It’s great! It’s hard to say this release is essential, but there’s plenty to love here if you’re able to stomach this much saccharine.
Amazing cassette with five songs in Catalan. I feel like they have some post-punk moments and some Oi! moments, and I really, really appreciate that. The track that really catches me from this tape is “Les Vies,” ‘cause I love some hardcore drums and then some “tupa tupa,” but I mean, every song on this cassette is fucking great.
“The shit has hit the fan” is the rough translation of the Brazilian slang used as an EP title for Barcelonians FINAL SLUM WAR. They have had enough with the constant oppression of modern life, and they are here to make their statement. Eleven minutes of hatred and aggression towards everything and everyone that corrupts the system in a vicious, raw D-beat fashion. BESTHÖVEN, DOOM, and EXTREME NOISE TERROR come to mind when listening to this one. Curious that the themes in this EP truly reflect life in Brazil, a constant struggle just to survive.
Absolute beast of a debut LP from this Spanish band that sings comfortably in Spanish and Basque. This band arrives with a fully-formed sound reminiscent of Oi! and Basque radical rock, but that also reflects ’80s influences like NEGATIVE APPROACH. This is an aesthetic exercise around hatred. Hatred directed towards a decadent society, and in particular, towards the rotten cities of Europe, sold out to capital. An exercise of hatred that vindicates the angry dignity and the vital vehemence of knowing oneself in constant opposition to everything, but which also finds transcendence in the haughtiness of resistance, in the opportunities generated by the city streets at night.
Primitive Screwhead continues to unearth lo-fi recordings debatably worthy of cassette releases on their live-recordings-only label. This time we find a recording from over twenty years ago, originally recorded in 2001 by Dutch punk/sleazy rock’n’roll outfit the HOT POCKETS. Stumbling through a 30-minute set of originals as well as covers by the NERVES, the REAL KIDS, and even GUNS N’ ROSES, the band keeps the audience on their toes with their juvenile between-song banter and out-of-tune harmonizing vocal attempts. Seems like this was probably a bit of a beautiful disaster to behold in the moment.
The Stucco label and its offshoots (such as Down South) keep on shittin’ out the hits that hit the fans like a banana split of shit (w/ a cherry floating on top). INSANE URGE isn’t scaling the heights of faves like FUGITIVE BUBBLE or PILGRIM SCREW, but they do deliver a satisfying blast of filthy punk sure to delight everyone from pity dog owners to crypto-dog speculators—a scumbrella under which all may find shelter and also slam into each other like drunken heathens. INSANE URGE lands firmly on the rock’n’roll side of the punk fence, recalling baloneyheads like GIZMOS and SHITDOGS. “There’s a World” is a frantic ass-shaker that rockets straight from the Crypt (Records). Like most Impotent Fetus (by)product, the bass playing is key. Unlock the door and shake it like your momma told ya.
From the Land Down Under comes a vicious D-beat stomp to the head in the form of JALANG, formerly known as LÁI, the name under which the ripper Pontianak was released. With this new moniker, they are back with Santau, a feast of fast D-beat hardcore punk with obvious Swedish inclinations, as well as their own exciting twists and turns, making this an above-average LP. The eleven tracks rip through you like a knife through butter, and they deal with the realities of the modern world filtered through dysphoric eyes. I love it when punk bands retain some sense of politics, and I would say that from the name to the last beat, this is a heavily political album, having its core in gender politics. There is an awesome CONFLICT cover as well. With members and ex-members of PISSCHRIST, MASSES, and SHEER MAG, nothing less than great is expected.
LOLLY GAGGERS harness a killer ’80s KILLING JOKE chant for the chorus of an eerie two-chord slog with poignant lyrics that hit even harder than the repetition does. MIDDLE-AGED QUEERS are more straight punk on the flip…poor choice of words. “Size Queen” is anything but “straight,” even though the music hits like FYP on poppers. More in-your-face (literally) queercore to balance the subtle introspective queercore on the flip, Bay Area represent.
Pete Dale has been putting out charming leftist agit-pop as MILKY WIMPSHAKE for close to 30 years now. I’ve been a fan since I first heard “Here’s to the State of Mr. Poodle” off of their 2006 record Popshaped. A send-up of Blair-ite Britain in the style of PHIL OCHS—yes, please! Released towards the end of 2020, Confessions of an English Marxist is their seventh full-length and their first since 2015’s Encore, Un Effort. Here MILKY WIMPSHAKE is a three-piece consisting of Pete, long-time bassist Christine Rowe, and drummer Emma Wigham. Rachel Kenedy (FLOWERS) sings on a few tracks, offering a sweet counterpart to Pete’s adenoidal vocal stylings. Everything here is as expected: jangling melodies, sardonic lyrics, and just enough edge to keep it from becoming insufferably cute. Very English, very Marxist. “Capitalism is a Perversion” and “Welcome to Fascist Britain” are cheeky protest songs that’ll get your toes tapping, while “I Just Can’t Escape Myself” and “Written My Hand” take a more personal, inward approach. The final track “I Don’t Want to Go There” is delicate and lovely, aided by Rachel Kenedy’s plaintive vocals. This may be one of their best yet.
I have to admit that everytime I start listening to a really lo-fi recording, I always get excited. I really love when punk bands sound like that, because I feel like when something punk sounds really clean, it just feels weird. Three really short hardcore punk songs—the longest song is one minute and five seconds, as punk should be.
NECRO HEADS bring us some brazen hardcore in the vein of NEGATIVE APPROACH and NEGATIVE FX. If you’re looking for artful nuance, keep looking. If you’re looking to thrash around like an animal for a few minutes until there’s spit and snot dripping from your beet-red mug, this aptly-named record will probably do the trick.
Berlin has been the dominant player in the neo-Neue Deutsche Welle scene, from the Allee Der Kosmonauten collective (AUS, DIE SCHIEFE BAHN, etc.) to the recent output of the Mangel label (with the likes of KLAPPER and OSTSEETRAUM), but just a few hours to the south, the much smaller city of Leipzig has been holding its own, too—last year’s killer LP from MARAUDEUR exuded playful, synth-damaged art-punk cool, and this debut cassette from the new quartet ONYON brings shrouded-but-spiky, subtly goth-tinted post-punk à la early XMAL DEUTSCHLAND out of the Cold War and into the digital age. Vocals alternate between German and English, rarely deviating from a sternly deadpan shout, the beats are of the martial, unwaveringly hi-hat/snare-forward variety, and period-perfect ’80s keys help to scratch that waved-out Zickzack itch. When they raise the urgency level a bit, like on “Octopus” and especially “Klick,” ONYON pushes through the fog of mid-tempo cold-punk and right into the keyed-up synth punk territory of KITCHEN & THE PLASTIC SPOONS—those moments are when the tape really blazes; hoping they lean even harder into the wild electro-art-punk impulses next time around.
Bombastic, chugging metallic punk from Düsseldorf, Germany. This four-song demo gives strong early VENOM vibes with dissonant, grinding guitars, thick bass lines, and evil, growling vocals. The aesthetic of this demo reeks of the good old tape-trading days where the bands had more enthusiasm than quality recording equipment or graphic design skills. The result is no-frills headbanging and foot-stomping. Each track is packed with riffs and attitude. The first three stomp along at a moderate pace, and then the final track, “Fascist Scum,” picks up the pace to hardcore speeds. In fact, their Facebook page has a great portrait-mode cellphone video of them performing it live back in September 2020 in an actual garage and is worth a look.
Here we have four sunbaked, relaxed-but-tight tracks of verbed-out rock‘n’roll from Australia (who seem to specialize in it). REVV stands out in how the sound balances more laid-back cruisin’ vibes with a healthy dose of dissonance and angularity. The title track really exemplifies this with guitar licks that slip around hazily and disorienting, all draped across a tight and confident rhythm section. The other cuts are strong, too; a good little tape that gives you what you need.
Reissue of the lone 1978 from this band from Northwest England. Two catchy-as-heck, properly angst-filled tunes. The guys responsible for this excellent 7″ are Nick Name, Phil Serious and Kid Sick. Great names and great songs. If you have not heard this, don’t wait a minute longer. Fantastic.
Decatur, Illinois breeds a special kind of degenerate. Midwest, bleak, broke, and hopeless. These boys are trying to break the cycle of misery through rock’n’roll, and who could blame them. They obviously are trying their hearts out, playing their ZEKE-meets-KYUSS-meets-SLIPKNOT brand noise with some MADBALL breakdowns. You could easily see them as second-to-last on a twenty-band bill in some bleak megaplex boasting a KORN reunion. There they are, rocking their hearts out and stealing the other bands’ beer. The title track ain’t bad. Give them a break and buy their records.
From too damn cold and funky Buffalo, New York, SPIT KINK has hocked up this wet, sticky loogie headed straight for your ears like a sexy wet willie, full of klang drum machine, industrial-sized bass lines, and sawtooth synths. These are some seriously sassy party rockers that give me major GENE DEFCON/PRIMA DONNAS vibes, and I love it. Get a few dozen strobe lights going and this duo can probably turn a Rust Belt living room into the sweatiest dance floor.
Mean-spirited and frequently atonal noise rock from these Winnipeg crushers. For fans of TRIGGER CUT and TONGUE PARTY, this record features extremely tight rhythms with frequent time changes, filthy bass tones, and math-inspired dissonant guitars. The vocals veer from sardonic spoken verses to screamed parts. There is quite a bit of instrumental complexity happening in these tracks, and TUNIC creates an unending sense of tension and unease. Take the alternating feedback tones of “Stuck,” or the plodding start/stop bass lines of “Fake Interest.” The refrain of “Pattern Fixation” probably says it best: “This is filth / This is filth.” If you like unpleasant, pessimistic noise punk, you’ll be into this.
Described on State Champion’s site as “Philly’s most haunted and deranged freaks”—this lot rocks. It’s fast and fun and heavy and is over before you know it: three songs on a single-sided 12″ with a hand screen-printed photo on the vinyl’s B-side. “Fall in a Pit” is a fantastic track, displaying TVO’s growth towards a tighter sound compared to their other releases, while still achieving that unhinged garage punk sound. Fall in a Pit made my Year End Top Ten, so what can I say, I’m a little biased!
More than four decades after their demise, the WELDERS still remain one of the most supremely cool bands of all-time—five teenage girls (all between thirteen and fifteen when they started) who were inspired by the British Invasion and glitter rock to form their own band in St. Louis, Missouri(!) in 1975(!!), just before the first wave of punk would break in the Midwest and a whole year before the superficially similar RUNAWAYS would release their first album(!!!). The first four tracks on Our Own Oddities were sourced from an unreleased 1979 EP that BDR eventually rescued and pressed to 7″ in 2010 (the only recorded document of the WELDERS until now), with a glam-rooted power pop bounce presaging the Bomp!-ed sound of later groups like NIKKI AND THE CORVETTES. The members of the WELDERS were all bookish honor student types who consciously rejected any sort of tough, hyper-sexualized RUNAWAYS-esque posturing right off the bat, and the abandoned EP features some seriously smart, viciously clever songs that took lecherous creeps to task (“P-E-R-V-E-R-T”), embraced their good-girl reputations (“S-O-S Now,” a prude empowerment anthem written after they got grief for their reluctance to look at a photo of Captain Sensible of the DAMNED sans pants!), and skewered regressive patriarchal traditions (“Debutantes in Bondage”), with a classically lovelorn ’60s girl group-meets-bubblegum punk number (“Baby Don’t Go”) thrown in for good measure. The rest of the LP is an assemblage of never-heard live recordings, basement demos, and a handful of takes from free studio sessions that guitarist Rusty was provided with as part of a college recording class, charting the WELDERS’ movement through some lineup changes and stylistic turns as the ’70s ended, with keyboards and an expanding post-punk awareness entering the picture by 1980 (according to the liner notes, the multi-lingual jagged pop jam “Tourist Trap” was influenced by vocalist Colleen’s “favorite band MAGAZINE,” and it shows). It’s all uniformly excellent, and if some of those later rehearsal tapes had been captured in a less roughed-up context, they could have easily fit into a new wave landscape of B-52’S and ROMEO VOIDs—the alternate timeline’s loss is our current timeline’s gain.
The music on APATIA’s 1992 debut varies a bit within its HC/punk framework. While the drums beat an even pace, the guitarist plays palm-muted riffs, conventional leads, or dissonant, almost math-rock scales along with the standard three distorted chords. They can also quiet down while the bass and drums lead. The band is innovative while remaining faithful to the genre. Unfortunately, the songs don’t always tie these different sounds together. They can sound like parts of altogether different songs spliced into one. But APATIA on record are an otherwise tight unit, even when their musical ambitions get ahead of them.
BLURT was the unhinged id under the cool demeanor of the Manchester scene focused around Factory Records. Led by poet, performance artist, and saxophone blartist Ted Milton, BLURT’s name summed up their exploding art brut attack, howling absurdist Tzaraist cut-ups (my favorite titles: “Dog Save My Sole” and “My Mother Was a Friend of an Enemy of the People”) over minimal loops of fractured guitar and a stripped-down kit of stiff funk drum breaks. This reissue pairs their first LP with a second disc compiling their first four singles, including the uptight gonzo classic “The Fish Needs a Bike.”
Delivering some faithful DISCHARGE-worship from France, this record showcases a new lineup for BOMBARDEMENT, in which singer Oriane provides some excellent Cal-inspired vocals that give this band their edge in my opinion. Four solid tracks.
I always like to look at the art of the album before listening to a record, so I feel like I can try to guess what it is going to sound like—this one was a surprise, a really great surprise. I love everything about this LP: the voice, the guitars, the drums, the bass. One thing that makes me really excited about this band is that they kinda remind me of SCARLET’S REMAINS, a deathrock band I used to listen to when I was like fifteen years old. I mean, not that they sound the same, they have a totally different style, but this album is pure obscure perfection. Amazing record for deathrockers and post-punkers.
This band has got it going on with the band name CHARGED D.I.S. They play a calamity of noise, with strange samples, awkward graphics, D-beat rhythms, classic riffing, and a warbled recording with from-the-throat singing. A lot of the constant sampling is children crying. I can hardly read the song titles, but I’m pretty sure they include “Killing” and “Humans.” The demo insert folds out and suggests you “cut here” (at the dotted line) “and hang” a (miniature) poster design. That’s just funny. It is of a larger gas-masked figure marionetting a smaller gas-masked figure with the header “D New World Graves.” There are also graves in the image. I’m hoping CHARGED D.I.S. made like ten of these and I’m now rich, because I could see that happening. Play this for your dog, see what happens. D.I.S. FTW.
When this one was originally released back in May 2021, right at the crest of the pandemic, it came to my attention that it was made by three kids in a town near the town I live in. Being that most of the “DIS” bands are hit-or-miss for me, I was a bit skeptical. But boy, was I wrong! This is a killer demo, and they sure know their DISCHARGE really well! I was instantly hooked on this one and they became one of my favourite Portuguese bands. This excellent demo showcases five songs that sound like they were recorded in ’82 on Stoke-on-Trent, plus a DISCLOSE cover. Bright things will come for these youngsters’ future if they keep this level of dedication up.
ETERNO RITORNO is a punk band from the Veneto region in northern Italy, formed with people from bands like TETRO PUGNALE, KNIGHTZZ, and 3ND7R. This is their debut EP, and it comes in the form of a cassette tape limited to 30 illustrated copies; a beauty of four songs full of dread, anger and desperation. The sound reminds me of the beautiful noise of the Italian hardcore wave of the ’80s, but it is precisely the rabid delivery of the vocals that gives a definite personality to a band that explores all the vicissitudes of living in a deeply conservative region of the country. Keep an eye on them, they have a bright future.
In just four short tracks, FASHION CHANGE put all of their cards on the table. This is really some good old-fashioned, no-frills hardcore punk with all of the audio fidelity of recording in a rotten dumpster. Hey, maybe that’s the way punk was designed to sound. The vocals are close enough to fit on a screamo record, the drums endlessly beat the listener, and the guitars growl like chainsaws. This is one that just isn’t for me. It’s just too grimy and loose to get into, but I have no doubt there is an audience for this EP. If you like the feeling of being trampled in a mosh pit, then this is about as close to that feeling as you’ll find in a recording.
Melancholy songs always sound beautiful. If you are someone who does not pay attention to lyrics, you will easily be lost in the pleasing, comforting sounds of “Lose Everything.” If you pay attention to lyrics, the disillusion and desolation being sung is wonderfully cathartic. It’s been ten years since the last GENTLEMAN JESSE record. On this one, the pandemic forced him to go it alone and play all the instruments. The isolation and self-reliance adds to the effect. My mind starts going as the music plays and then an interesting lyrical line will jump out of me. The result is an intimate collection of songs that reminds me of some of the more introspective ’80s college rock bands. 2021 was a shitty year and 2022 is starting off worse. As ELTON JOHN once said, sad songs say so much.
