***Don’t forget, the Graham Dunning LP is still available! Info here!***
Alien Nosejob Death Of The Vinyl Boom 7″ (no label)
It’s a holy moment when a punk group is able to create something both gimmicky and undeniably great – such is the case with this self-released 7″ EP from Clunes, Australia’s Alien Nosejob. The packaging is a hilarious take on the time-tested “anti-collectible-record collectible record” style, complete with a smashed piece of vinyl glued to the front and a variety of selling points on the back. (“Will increase in value!”, “over the top Aussie accent inside!” and “not completely a joke” are all potent advertisements.) I’m already entertained, but these are some truly fine punk songs they’ve got here, clearly well-studied on the classics with their own twist – I’m picking up the same mechanical lurch of The Normal’s “TV OD” in “Caffeine OD”, whereas the backing vocal melody on “Fly Blown” recalls the peculiar punk send-up of Helen Keller. These tunes would fit in nicely alongside any mix that already includes Vom, The Victims, Ice 9, Weirdos, The Chosen Few, or The Feederz… basically any indispensable punk act whose three-figure first-pressing 7″ is worth every penny. Death Of The Vinyl Boom only costs like ten bucks or less (plus shipping), so don’t delay!
Oren Ambarchi, Konrad Sprenger & Phillip Sollmann Panama / Suez 12″ (A-TON)
Oren Ambarchi is the Aussie who never sleeps, even if his music is often quite conducive to such behavior. This new two-track 12″ follows the repetitive trance-state of 2016’s fantastic Hubris album with two new lengthy explorations of cyclical rhythms that slowly widen in scope and emotion. “Panama” chugs with an insistent krautrock groove, consisting of what sounds like a twinkling system of synths and perhaps even an electric guitar. I’m picturing Ambarchi, Sprenger and Sollmann all hunched over different stations at NASA headquarters, turning knobs and patching cords to ensure the utmost sonic quality, imperfections be damned. “Suez” opens with some lightweight percussive patterns that eventually blossom in full color, care of what must be Ambarchi’s extended guitar performance (in his distinctive style) and whatever a guy named Konrad Sprenger does… program some classic ENIAC algorithms into his modified Apple watch? “Suez” has a little more tension than the ear-to-ear smile of “Panama”, but they’re both nearly as deep and majestic as the canals that inspired them. All excellent feats of human ingenuity, to be sure.
Amnesia Scanner Another Life LP (PAN)
Album of the month right here! This Finnish duo have been kicking around for a bit now with their hyper-modern, art-installation-ready digital releases. It’s clearly the sort of project that is ripe for a deal with the technologically-advanced PAN label, but Another Life is its own fascinating beast entirely, and surely the finest experimental electronic album to feature sneakers on the cover since Lorenzo Senni’s Quantum Jelly. Amnesia Scanner essentially apply the digitally-microscopic sonic editing style of Arca to aggressive dancehall beats, all of which are mutated beyond any human recognition in the spirit of energetic industrial noise. Maybe if Sean Paul and Genesis P-Orridge became a singular pandrogyne (s)he’d make music like this? What’s most incredible is how Amnesia Scanner are able to wring such massive pop hooks out of their twisted sonic debris – tracks like “AS A.W.O.L.” and “AS Chaos” play out like DJ Khaled mingling with Vessel’s heavy-duty artillery, and they provide immediately memorable (and danceable) results. Labelmate Pan Daijing provides some great vocals on a couple tracks, as does a proprietary computer-voice called “The Oracle”, just in case you were worried this album wasn’t over the top enough. “AS Too Wrong” is my favorite, a ridiculous banger that has me moshing, but the whole record is more or less essential to surviving today’s tech-cloud hellscape with a cynical wink.
Baczkowski / Padmanabha Mastoid Process 7″ (Iron Lung)
Iron Lung is really pushing to see how far their audience is willing to follow them with the release of this blistering free-jazz single… there’s no hardcore to be found within miles of this record, unless of course you consider it in terms of the sheer physicality these two players exert. It’s Steve Baczkowski on sax and Ravi Padmanabha on drums, and they go full-tilt for the duration of these two pieces. Padmanabha cascades across his kit, executing his extravagant rolls in a manner befitting Chris Corsano or Milford Graves, while Baczkowski squeals like a fire alarm and gutturally bellows like an elephant in labor (with twins). I’ve seen Baczkowski perform live, playing a saxophone roughly the size of a canoe and blasting a seemingly infinite cache of air through various reeds and metallic equipment. There’s a rodent-like scuttering at the end of b-side “Trachea”, but this is mostly a pants-on-fire affair, a free-jazz assault that’ll scald you if handled without insulated gloves. Could this be Iron Lung (the band) testing the water for a free-jazz release of their own???
Beta Boys Late Nite Acts LP (Feel It)
Like a troubled teen bouncing from high school to high school, Beta Boys have put out singles on a variety of today’s busiest American punk purveyors: Digital Regress, Neck Chop and Total Punk, to be precise. The ‘Boys convinced Feel It to handle the full-length duties, and Late Nite Acts is a nice summation of Beta Boys’ talent (or lack thereof). Bolstered by a mid-fi recording, they deliver basic hardcore-punk with a guitar slathered in chorus or flange (or probably both) and a vocalist who is constantly volleying between accurate impersonations of Bobby Soxx and Darby Crash. If you’ve gotta pick two classic punk singers to ape, I can’t think of a better duo! The Bobby Soxx styling is particularly notable (just listen to the way he pronounces “urban decay” on “L’Appel Du Vide”), and I can’t tell if he’s naturally blessed or sought formal training to sound like Texas’s greatest punk frontman of all time, but I guess it doesn’t really matter either way. Pretty cool overall, and surprisingly with-it for a band that previously seemed content to release error-laden, “direct to laptop”-sounding nonsense – even their cartoon scribbling seems to have improved, if only by a little. They even end with a dirge, which is about as by-the-books as a hardcore-punk LP can get, and the song is about some sort of drug-ridden sex nightmare, which has quickly become one of modern punk’s favorite topics. The Beta Boys might want us to think they don’t really give a fuck, but I suspect that they do, at least by now.
Cement Shoes A Peace Product Of The USA 7″ (Feel It)
Feel It Records has quickly become a reliable dealer of modern hardcore-punk, and seeing as Richmond has a continual supply of new hardcore-punk bands, it’s no big surprise that newcomers Cement Shoes linked up with the label for their debut 7″ single. “Fruity Funhouse” is the a-side and it leans toward the Sorry State brand of hardcore, you know, one that involves songs with four parts or more, goes after a studio-grade recording and is generally played fast or slightly slower than fast. This track reminds me of a snottier, scragglier version of the Fetish 7″ that recently came out on Beach Impediment, but with the guy from Street Trash singing. Not bad! “I Saw The Devil Again (Last Night)” isn’t a song title off Danzig’s newest record, it’s the b-side here, and it rocks a little looser, with runs up the neck of the bass and some leathery guitar moves, certainly nodding toward Poison Idea (“you can feel the darkness” is a lyric) even as the vocalist sneers like he’s trying to do shots with Nashville Pussy after the gig (or maybe during the instrumental outro?). As a bonus, each cover is hand-painted over the printed design, ensuring you contributed to the main Feel It guy’s carpal tunnel syndrome with your purchase.
Charnel Ground Charnel Ground LP (12XU)
Can you get down with the concept of minor indie-rock legends wylin’ out on their respective instruments? If so, this debut Charnel Ground album might be up your alley. This group features Kid Millions (from Oneida, but also known for just being Kid Millions) on drums, Codeine’s Chris Brokaw on guitar and Yo La Tengo’s third wheel, James McNew, on bass. They tackle a variety of styles with aplomb, from the frantic Flying Luttenbachers-esque tune-up of “Jimmy” to the ten minutes of Psychic Paramount-y road-burner “The High Price” alongside a couple softer, indie-er grooves that seem to extrapolate Pavement riffs into oblivion. They really space out on the b-side encompassing title track, over seventeen minutes of McNew’s precise single-note delivery and Millions’ variations on motorik beats while Brokaw deeply contemplates the meaning of life through his guitar. It’s quite possible they just came up with the idea and let it rip, knowing that Millions and McNew had the endurance to maintain an airtight beat and that Brokaw has an infinite stream of color ready to pour from his guitar. They’re like three Dave Grohls that still have to work for a living… how long until Charnel Ground gets its own HBO limited series professing the life-altering power of rock n’ roll?
C. Memi & Neo Matisse No Chocolate / Dream’s Dream 7″ (Bitter Lake Recordings)
Following their reissue of C. Memi’s Heavenly Peace EP, Bitter Lake rounds it out with C. Memi’s only other recording, a collaborative 7″ single with Neo Matisse. These are some obscure-ass names I’m throwing around here, even to yours truly, but Bitter Lake are seemingly all about unearthing the most unknown Japanese rock/wave/electro music from the early ’80s, and I tip my hat to such an intent. This one is pretty cool, and dare I say preferable to Heavenly Peace on the whole. “No Chocolate” starts with a wild scream of the title (could there be a worse fate than no chocolate?), and alongside a stomping piano and full backing band, C. Memi summons the swagger of New York Dolls and Roxy Music for a proto-punk art-rock declaration. It even gets messy and threatens to fall apart, thanks in no small part to the blustery piano. “Dream’s Dream” goes a little deeper into the electronics – various 8-bit helicopters are circling above the polite melodic vocals and the sunglasses-on cool of the bass/drums. You can tell that this crew had no interest in obtaining a copy of rock’s rulebook – if they did, they probably would’ve just tossed it out the window. Bizarre and tantalizing sounds, lovingly recreated for modern consumption.
Cold Fish Cold Fish 7″ (Tropical Cancer)
I wonder if the gimp mask industry has seen an increase in sales due to underground hardcore-punk’s recent fascination? Are all these bands actually buying them, or just using pics of them to appear more subversively deranged and sexually unstable? I would ask Cold Fish directly, but there’s always the chance that they actually are psychotic dungeon-masters looking to toss me in a sex cage, so I don’t want to risk it. Their style isn’t necessarily generic, but it’s what one might expect: severe Darby Crash-style groaning over repetitive Brainbombs-esque guitar licks, often enhanced with punchy hardcore drumming and a drunken demeanor. Song titles include “Flickr” and “Arsehole Fetish”, to be sure you know where this Brisbane group is coming from. Do they actually love anuses and fill their personal Flickr accounts with images of them? Only Cold Fish’s internet service providers know for sure.
Cold Leather Smart Moves LP (Adagio830)
Cold Leather are a new punk group out of Berlin, and they quickly hop through nine songs on Smart Moves, their full-length debut. They play a very specific form of melodic punk, one that seems to nod toward classic ’77 punk, but in a decidedly 21st Century way. I’m thinking of bands like The Vicious, Murder City Devils, Pretty Girls Make Graves, No Hope For The Kids… punk rock for conventionally attractive people, maybe? It’s music that sounds like its wearing freshly-printed Nasty Facts and Guilty Razors t-shirts, if that makes any sense. As for Cold Leather’s take on it, they do quite fine, mixing tempos while maintaining a peppy energy (even a moody downer like “Stunned” packs a punch). I’d say it’s a little too clean-cut and harmless for my tastes, but a song like the title track is undeniable as far as cleaned-up DIY punk goes, with its cruising Tony Lombardo-style bass-line and spunky delivery. Give Cold Leather a chance and they might impress you!
Conduit Drowning World LP (Kitschy Spirit)
Kid you not, I’d been wondering what was up with the Twin Stumps fellas recently. I enjoyed their extra-brittle, hiss-filled form of noise-rock, and it turns out two of them got together with a guy from White Suns and another pal to form Conduit. I’d say Conduit picks up right where Twin Stumps left off, delivering a sticky grey blast in the form of Drowning World. Whereas Twin Stumps seemed particularly interested in pursuing some of the more avant-garde, musically-intolerable ends of the noise-rock spectrum, Conduit get more or less straight to the point, bashing through these sideways-swaying dirges of murky bass, deliberate drum patterns, snarled vocals and damaged guitar. Ben Greenberg’s recording is a perfect match, providing space for each instrument while still coming through as hot as the tailpipe of an idling Chevrolet – you can hear what’s happening, and it’s vicious. Kinda classic sounding too, as if the miserable art-pummel of Swans circa Filth was applied to the tuneful guitar strangulations of early Black Flag and delivered with the bleary-eyed grace of Landed. If you want a copy for yourself, look elsewhere – I’m holding onto this one!
The Cosmic Sand Dollars Let’s Go Nuclear Woody! LP (Old Comet)
The last thing I saw from the Cold Vomit posse was a Uranium Orchard LP that was actually just a piece of pegboard fashioned into the shape of an LP, so just when I thought there was nothing they could do to pleasantly surprise me, they offer up this LP by The Cosmic Sand Dollars (on sister label “Old Comet”, get it?). I’m assuming this group is some (if not all?) of Uranium Orchard, but they’ve really found something special here in a seemingly unintentional way, like someone accidentally tripping backward over a duffel bag full of cash. The general premise is “surf music”, but The Cosmic Sand Dollars enhance it, fudge it and drag it over various electronic sound effects and beats, content to casually flow with the tide instead of riding the ripcurl. It’s perfectly mellow surf guitar with a dirty twist, and Let’s Go Nuclear Woody! ends up in the sonic neighborhood of Young Marble Giants’ sleepiest instrumentals, a particularly cosmic Dan Melchior outing or Francisco Franco’s lazy-day library music, but ultimately exists solely within its own unique dimension. Very, very weird stuff, in the best way possible of course, and it even comes with a Risograph-printed zine of nuclear surf art that’s probably going to be worth thousands of dollars some day. In my mind, it already is.
Death Commando Pattern Nightmares LP (Going Home)
Whereas the first Death Commando album was attributed to an Alan Hurst, Jason Letkiewicz reveals himself as the Death Commando puppet-master for the sophomore album Pattern Nightmares. Letkiewicz has left a sprawling trail of releases under his belt (Innergaze, Two Dogs In A House and Mutant Beat Dance are a few of my personal faves), but he really seems to be having fun as Death Commando. This project is deeply indebted to sleazy VHS culture – gore, sex, car chases, aliens, terrorists, fantasy warlords, demonic possession, anything that involves lots of red-dyed carob syrup and rubber prosthetics and was only available in the back of your Shop Rite or Stop N’ Shop’s VHS rental counter circa 1987. A lot of people are chasing this vibe, but Death Commando seems to hit it right between the eyes – these tracks conjure Metal Gear‘s Snake trying to break a code while surrounded by sleeping guards, a child hiding in a dark closet while a werewolf ravages their parents, maybe even a possessed cheerleader bowling with her math teacher’s skull. All moods are explored within Pattern Nightmares, unified by a slightly unclean sensation, as though Death Commando has a stricter parental rating than you are permitted to enjoy (but the babysitter doesn’t know!). “Into The Ground” is particularly chilling, but you’re gonna want to hear the whole thing!
DJ Residue 211 Circles Of Rushing Water 12″ (The Trilogy Tapes)
DJ Residue is the result of techno iconoclast Gunnar Wendel (aka Kassem Mosse) spending five days cramped in a hot apartment in New York City. For most people of Wendel’s generation, that would involve lots of take-out, Netflix and weed, but he took the opportunity to record these nine tracks of dark, minimal electronics. He only had a Moog and a couple of cymbals, and 211 Circles Of Rushing Water is proof positive that severe limitations can often yield terrific results. These tracks bleep and churn with only the slightest sense of melody; they feel more like nagging internal processes that our brains have learned to tune out, like the rhythmic thud of laundry machines or idling diesel engines outside the window. At times I’m reminded of Actress in the way that Wendel amplifies his microscopic sounds, but DJ Residue is far more rudimentary and blunt – yes, that’s a Zildjian cymbal he’s rubbing and smacking on “Shallow Bowl”. It’s like a non-menacing, fragile take on dungeon synth – AirBNB synth, maybe?
DJ Richard Dies Iræ Xerox 2xLP (Dial)
As the second most seductively mysterious member of the White Material crew (the first is Galcher Lustwerk, of course), DJ Richard has delivered some knockout punches in his day (“Nailed To The Floor”) and some records that went in one ear and out the other (his debut album Grind). Still, I couldn’t resist peeping Dies Iræ Xerox – the scribbled, barely perceptible demon face on the cover was calling to me like Pennywise through a sewer grate. I’m glad I checked in again, because this record is DJ Richard at his most insidious, filling the room with a slightly poisonous mist as the tracks unfold. If I can point you in one specific direction, it’s the second track, “Pitfall”. It rolls in on a narcoleptic beat and is quickly joined by one of the most seductively serpentine synth-lines I’ve heard this year – it’s as evenly tailored to soundtrack some sort of horror movie sex scene as a Warren G freestyle. When I find myself able to take “Pitfall” off repeat, I’m enjoying the smoky, deliberate pacing of the rest of the album, buffering unfriendly mid-paced techno jams like “In Broad Daylight” with foreboding ambient cloud-patterns, such as the Huerco S.-ish “Old Winter’s Way”. It’s grueling in the best sense of the term, as if we are thrust into DJ Richard’s sexy nightmare and forced to confront it, lest he ensnare us forever. If he wants to ensnare me just a little bit longer, though, I’m cool with that.
Filthy Grin Saturn In The Mirror LP (Gilgongo)
Life is more hectic than ever, so why not give yourself a moment to queue up some Filthy Grin and focus on nothing but the sweet decomposing tones? This Vancouver-based artist (but apparently previously a one-time member of Phoenix noise-rockers Pigeon Religion) is all about the sustained crumbly drone, patiently hunched over his digital gear in what is surely a dilapidated industrial art-space of some sort, be it an old mattress factory, abandoned schoolhouse or, worst case scenario, parents’ basement. Saturn In The Mirror is comprised of two long tracks – the a-side kicks off with the sound of Filthy Grin walking through some detritus before launching into a sustained melodic melt, not unlike something William Basinski might offer. The b-side is a little more sparse, with tones reverberating into silence, a morose soliloquy of industrial decay with plenty of open air ripe for contemplation. This sorta thing rarely works for me live – at a show, I want to socialize and exchange energy with the artist in some way or another; I don’t want to have to worry I’m stepping on a squeaky floorboard during a quiet part or focus on staying supremely motionless. Thankfully, this Filthy Grin material comes as a publicly-available vinyl LP that I am free to enjoy privately.
Maxine Funke Eternity 7″ (I Dischi Del Barone)
New Zealander Maxine Funke came onto my radar care of a great interview in a recent Dynamite Hemorrhage issue (one of the finest DIY zines still on the market), and while I didn’t yet hear her music, tempting as it was to blow $250 on one of her coveted and elusive LPs, I knew that I wanted to. Thankfully I Dischi Del Barone made it possible with this new four-track 7″ EP, sure to delight her cult fanbase as well as newcomers. I’m not sure how I Dischi coaxed this material out of Funke, seeing as she seems to live life first and record songs second, but it’s quite charming music… I can clearly understand the hype and fascination. Three of these tracks are acoustic guitar with vocal accompaniment, calling to mind Nick Drake or Meg Baird, not so much as an imitator of either but one of their peers. Her songs effortlessly unfold, and her voice is as mysterious and knowing as one could hope from high-grade outsider folk. The odd-track-out is “Sandhopper”, a sort of rhythm-box noise interlude, which of course only makes the EP that much more appealing. I recommend you do what you can to find a copy of this single before it becomes another pricey gem!
Goat Girl Goat Girl LP (Rough Trade)
Without any radical new advances in musical technology since the turn of the century (we’re all just waiting on virtual reality-based music now, right?), a large number of guitar-based groups who desire to be more than a simple retro act end up combining influences in new and unexpected ways. London’s Goat Girl are a great example of this, as they mix the deviant rockabilly of Country Teasers with the subdued and distant warmth of Hope Sandoval. It’s not an equation I would’ve imagined, but Goat Girl render it as naturally congruous as crust and grind. With it comes the huge hit “The Man”, a rock gem that could’ve ransacked the pop charts in any decade but this one – it’s infectious and silly and sexy, with a rallying chorus that’ll even get the incels moshing. There are a number of other entertaining tunes here too, songs like “Cracker Drool” that really push the Country Teasers side of the equation (not to mention what appears to be a direct homage in the track “Country Sleaze”) and “Burn The Stake”. Perhaps the weirdest thing about Goat Girl’s self-titled debut is the fact that it’s a whopping nineteen songs, many of which appear to be tossed-off instrumental sketches rather than fully-formed tunes. I’m not sure why they did this, as attention spans are at an all-time low, and I find my mind wandering as well, waiting for another “real” song during some of the many interludes. A little editing would’ve cut Goat Girl down to a svelte fighting weight, but these cool women are clearly just doing whatever they want, so who am I to complain.
Helena Hauff Qualm 2xLP (Ninja Tune)
Helena Hauff entered my consciousness as a gnarly analog-techno DJ, the type of person who puts out ugly-looking 12″s packed with red-lining beats care of antique drum machines. While she is still very much that same person, she’s managed to raise her profile considerably over the past few years, bringing her aggressive and blown-out techno to large crowds and festivals, not to mention the highly credible Ninja Tune label. I consider her first album Discreet Desires to be a modern masterpiece, fusing in various industrial, cold-wave and acid influences, but Qualm is far more blunt and singularly-minded – this record is here to pummel and burn and leave it at that. She tours constantly now (what other London-based, German-raised DJ has played Philadelphia more than once in the past couple years?), so I’m not sure if she didn’t have the same amount of studio time to put Qualm together as her debut, but it certainly feels like a “first thought, best thought” record, as though she just plugged in, worked up a few rugged beats, pushed the levels until the speakers became audibly uncomfortable, and called it a wrap. It’s both positive and negative, in that regard: these aggressive tunes are fun and exactly what one might expect from Hauff, but they offer no surprises or even slight deviations from her signature style. I’d ponder things further, but my ears are starting to ring.
Petre Inspirescu Murgullll 12″ (Mule Musiq)
Petre Inspirescu’s recent full-lengths have drifted away from the dance-floor upon which he built his rep and beamed toward headier locales. Last year’s Vîntul Prin Salcii is a modern post-classical album filled with melancholic electronics and seamlessly interwoven field-recordings / instrumentation, and while it’s beautiful, I’m also glad to see him getting back to club basics on this two-track 12″. “Murgullll” is indebted to the Ricardo Villalobos school of early ’00s tech-house, no doubt. A slippery bassline swerves between lanes as light percussion and static pops sprinkle the tune like seeds on an everything bagel. The same is more or less true of “Cumva” on the flip, which solidifies things with a 4/4 thump and some interesting blips and bleeps – it sounds like some sort of biological process amplified through a stethoscope, like a packet of air-bubbles slowly rising from stomach to esophagus. A pensive little bass-line eventually appears, but “Cumva” is more for sneaking through darkened corridors than a warehouse packed with ravers. Cool, unassuming tracks that certainly aren’t kowtowing to modern trends… I get the feeling Inspirescu needs to get this sort of thing out of his system every few years, and for that I’m thankful.
IV IV 7″ (Total Punk)
While so many Total Punk groups seem to revel in childishly crude artwork and brash attitudes, they all pretty much have their own Bandcamp pages, or at least some sort of basic info on the insert. Not so for IV, a mysteriously unrepresented group within the world of Total Punk or the internet in general – I’m not even sure if I should be calling them “Four” like the Roman numeral or “eye-vee” like the drip. Gonna go with the drip, and hope that I eventually get to learn more about this group, as they’re particularly vicious and above-average compared against a label roster that’s already above-average. They’re delivering straightforward, hot-tempered punk rock across these four succinct tunes, with what’s either double-tracked vocals or multiple singers shouting through tuneful-yet-unrefined melodies – I’m reminded of The Love Triangle with less hardcore speed and more punk sneer, maybe Video without any kitschy camp, or perhaps the most blown-out Cheap Time single scrubbed clean of any garage-pop aspirations. It’s all within the standard punk playbook, but IV deliver their music with such gusto and attitude that I can’t help but sit up straight and take notice.
The Lopez Like A Prayer / Throwin’ Shade 7″ (no label)
So not only did The Lopez release this 7″ single on “cat puke”-colored vinyl, they shelled out the cash to print up cat-puke shaped stickers advertising such, proudly slapped on the cover. That’s dedication one has to admire, and the silly fun continues with “Like A Prayer”: a fuzzy bass-line grooves with electro-pop drums as the room turns into a swirling ’90s party, where The Go-Gos, Len, RuPaul, Deee-Lite and The Apples In Stereo catch Pee-wee Herman as he dives off the kitchen counter. Simple and fun, upbeat and carefree, it would do us all some good to pretend we’re this happy once in a while. “Throwin’ Shade” carries the same neon color scheme but in a more muted design, recalling an electronically-programmed version of The Courtneys (the vocals in particular are quite similar here). The Lopez aren’t re-writing the indie-pop handbook, but they’re having plenty of fun following its instructions, on what will surely be the friendliest barf-themed record you come across this fall.
Nathan Micay Whities 017 12″ (Whities)
I love me some Whities – it’s a modern techno label you can trust! This new one comes from Nathan Micay, who used to produce music under the name of Bwana, this being the first under his given name. He can call himself whatever he wants as far as I’m concerned (except maybe like, Speed Hitler 2000), because this new EP is a beautiful selection of delicate, futuristic techno. “First Casualty” thumps with the best of ’em, and it prominently features a careful little melody, as if Micay convinced the ARP synth from The Who’s “Baba O’Riley” to hum a lullaby over cascading chords and a trusted, sturdy beat. A great mix of tender and tough, no doubt. I’m already satisfied, but “Beginning Ballads” carries a similarly uplifting feeling, as if propulsive techno can be used as a meteorological force to part the clouds. This one squeals into the highest corners of the room in tandem with its unflagging pulse, quite similar to Avalon Emerson’s Whities record and deserving of similar praise. The great cover art seals the deal, a colorful collage of overloaded information.
Preening Nice Dice 7″ (Fine Concepts)
In an effort to ensure that as few people hear them as possible, Preening continue to stick with 7″ EP releases. This new one comes on the Nice Concept label, another Oakland-based entity strictly in service to the underground, and it features four more songs of Preening’s mangled, sax-guided post-punk. I’m not sure which member of the group is singing on this one, but they’re going all in, red-veined hollering over the sparse drums and bass and room noise, calling to mind Tropical Trash or Landed even as the music is closer in wave-form to Mecca Normal or Delta 5. Zachary Watkins is credited as a guest guitarist, but I can’t tell if that’s a gag or not since I don’t hear any guitar – maybe he’s simply holding it, in some sort of sustained feat of minimalism? Regardless, these songs are quite cool, as spindly and irritating as anything else in Preening’s discography, with perhaps a bit more spittle on the edges of their lips and sweat upon their brows. It was a hot summer, after all.
Pumice Platelets 7″ (Soft Abuse)
An endearing figure in the realm of underground New Zealand noisy nonsense for decades now, it’s clear that Pumice’s Stefan Neville will need to be physically forced to cease all musical operations in order for him to do so. His discography dates back to the mid-’90s – he was releasing weirdo lathe-cuts back when I was excited for the first edition of the Hellcat Records Give ‘Em The Boot CD sampler. Hell, the last Pumice 7″ on Soft Abuse came out some nine years ago now! Anyway, let’s talk about this one: “Haemochromatosis Bring A Plate” is the a-side and it’s a curious organism of accordion, violin, keyboard and maybe something else? No vocals, just a rickety and mournful sway. “Real Blood Is Cheaper Than Fake Blood” picks up the mood with the hyper-crumbly guitar-work one might normally associate with Pumice, whereas “Its More Realistic Too” picks at its own melodic scab, both tracks finding the midpoint between a fractured Deerhoof melody and the Menstruation Sisters’ no-fidelity genius. What with the great state of New Zealand healthcare, we’re probably in for a few more decades of Pumice at least, so buckle up!
Puppy & The Hand Jobs I Eat Abortions 7″ (Black Gladiator / Slovenly)
It’s a little discomfiting to realize that childish shock-jock punk will outlive me, probably long after I’m gone in fact. Two hundred years from now, when any memory of my existence is lost, there will still be guys wearing panties and silly sunglasses singing about poop and pee. Take Phoenix’s Puppy & The Hand Jobs for example, a new group where guitarist/vocalist “Puppy” wears a diaper and the other two members dress as, wait for it… Ward and June Cleaver. Yup! They play crude and insulting punk in the classic style of The Child Molesters, Puke Spit And Guts and of course the patron saint of offensive punk schlock, Kevin Michael “GG” Allin. If that style appeals to you, along with song titles like “I Eat Abortions”, “Trash Rock-N-Roll” and “I Think I’m Gay” (which has its own video on Pornhub Gay – did you faint from disbelief yet???), you may be wondering where Puppy & The Hand Jobs rank, to which I tell you that these songs will not disappoint those looking to receive a hearty dose of yesteryear’s shock-punk. May God judge you kindly.
Ragtime Frank & The Drivers I Know Said The King 12″ (Ever/Never)
Sporting a black turtleneck, white Zorro-style mask, a flapless ushanka cap and a friendly pet cat, it’s clear that Ragtime Frank is the kind of self-assured guitar-playing non-conformist that Ever/Never is drawn toward. He was one of the main forces behind The Lost Domain, who shared an interest in crudely-deconstructed blues and rock n’ roll, one that is strongly demonstrated through these four songs. The Drivers that back him up are two apparently-simultaneous drummers, offering their mostly-aligned take on the Bo Diddley beat while Ragtime Frank rips distorted, bluesy chunks of sound from his guitar with the possessed hollerin’ to match. It strikes me as spiritually akin to Bill Orcutt, although Orcutt is clearly an innovative master of his own unique playing style and Ragtime Frank just kinda slams it around like anyone’s drunk uncle who used to play in garage bands might. They’re both grey-haired white guys who sit down while emitting a cacophonous frenzy of old-timey-induced mania, so there’s that, right? Ragtime Frank takes joy in pushing the limits of rhythm n’ blues, knowing full well that they’ll never break, no matter how spastic and tunelessly he insists on playing.
Sissy Spacek Blear LP (Gilgongo)
Whereas so many of his No Fun Fest peers have moved on from harsh noise, John Wiese continues to embrace it, both under his own name and with his long-running Sissy Spacek project. I’ve always known Sissy Spacek to provide a form of cut-up grindcore that somehow exists outside of the grind scene – maybe he’s just too arty, or his band logos are far too legible. Apparently there’s a new Sissy Spacek album out now on Nuclear War Now!, which should certainly open him up to more traditional audiences, but the rapid-fire splicing and editing that goes into Sissy Spacek always struck me as in step with outsiders like Aunt Mary or Fear Of God’s Dave Phillips. I need to hear that other new Sissy Spacek album, but Blear is cool, if an entirely different beast. The grindcore is fully absent here, replaced by long-form demolition work, be it digitized, live or a synthesis of the two. I’m strongly reminded of The Haters (not to mention Hanatarash) in the way that the rumbling harsh noise blends into live-action destruction, the sound of metal beams tossed errantly among broken bottles and decayed furniture inside some abandoned and cavernous warehouse. There are five “tracks” here, but the destruction is somewhat uniform; tracks are delineated by brief breaks in the mayhem, although there was clearly some production added after the initial recording (I’m particularly partial to the sloshing swipes that close “Garbage Matte”). He’s still got it!
The Unholy Two The Pleasure To End All Pleasures LP (12XU)
One might hope that The Unholy Two would be kind enough to explain specifically what the titular pleasure is, but they’re keeping it private for now. Drinking a milkshake while going down a waterslide, maybe? It’s an odd choice of title for this, their third vinyl full-length, as it’s an album that pushes even further from their previous endeavors in noise-rock toward pure noise, far from what any respectable citizen might consider enjoyable. I’m kind of impressed by how little this album rocks – whatever sense of garage-rock aesthetics The Unholy Two might’ve mildly displayed in the past are fully eradicated now, with at least half a dozen forms of incessant guitar noise and feedback slathering every tune on here. Some of them don’t even really seem to have any rhythm, more like Skullflower-style endurance tests, but a couple of them do reveal some semblance of percussion, usually dirge-like and miserable. It’s practically a harsh noise record at times, similar to guitar-wielding assailants like Hijokaidan or Ramleh, but it’s probably a friendly coincidence, not a direct inspiration. I always assumed this ugly form of music couldn’t get any more despondent and misanthropic than Rusted Shut, but some of these cuts make Rusted Shut look like a Rush cover band by comparison.
Violence Creeps Nephew Melting 7″ (Total Punk)
Allow me to take us back to 2015, when Violence Creeps’ debut 45 On My Turf arrived and scuffed up everything in its path. It was a brash, fun, volatile statement of amateur-style hardcore-punk that seemed built to burn out quickly, and yet here we are, three years later, and they’ve amassed a formal LP, a 12″ EP and three other 7″s, not to mention a small Target bag’s worth of cassettes. It would be practically impossible to do all that without shifting stylistically at least a little bit, which they do here on “Nephew Melting”, a dare-I-say angular-sounding tune, driven by boppy drums and a tipsy little bass-line. Vocalist Amber Feigel insults mustaches in two separate lines of lyrics on this one, pissed-off even by her standard of always being pissed-off. “Ford Go Bikes” is a punk dirge brain-drain in the style of Flipper, or perhaps more accurately Total Punk label-mates Gary Wrong Group, shifting between two unfriendly notes as Feigel’s vocal paranoia is enhanced with echo. Violence Creeps aren’t rookies anymore!
Avola Zone LP (Nadine / Sleeping Giant Glossolalia)
There’s certainly a zone being explored on Vern Avola’s newest record, but I’m not sure it’s one of our earthly dimension. Rather, this record reminds me of the sonic areas explored by Wolf Eyes and their fellow psych-noise travelers shortly after the turn of the century. Avola uses a variety of synths (in most press photos, she’s hunched over one) to create these bristly, finicky musical organisms, and while she’s not the first to have this idea (many of the ideas explored through Zone can be traced back to Throbbing Gristle and beyond), she works it well. At times, things get out of control in a Nautical Almanac or Cotton Museum sorta way, but usually Avola lets her tones linger in the stratosphere, as if she’s trying to lure the Silver Surfer back to Earth by emitting a particularly dazzling selection of colors into outer space. Listening to Zone takes me back to the days of not knowing who or what was responsible for the random few American Tapes I was able to acquire, but loving them dearly all the same.
Bad Breeding Abandonment 12″ (One Little Indian)
I’m telling you, the breeding has gone from bad to worse, and we’re all the better for it. This new four-song 12″ EP comes on the Flux Of Pink Indians-related One Little Indian label, and Bad Breeding are the perfect band to carry Flux’s flag, as they are also unrefined, abrasive, insanely good, and verifiably British. These songs are a little longer than I’m used to hearing from Bad Breeding, but it works in their favor, allowing these menacing, feral punk tunes to unfold naturally. I’m thinking if Impalers opted for a heavier post-punk influence (picture Crisis or Wire given a molten hardcore enhancement), it might tumble to the floor much like Abandonment does, right through to the mind-melting crescendo that terminates “Complicit”, the last song on here. The sound quality is pretty much perfect for what they’re trying to accomplish, too – it’s thick and heavy, but brittle on the edges, as if the recording is on the verge of catching fire, be it magnetic tape or hard drive. If the only thing keeping you from ordering a copy is not knowing whether or not it comes with a big gnarly collage that features chain-link fences and the words “war”, “torture” and “control” prominently displayed, well, spoiler alert: it does!
Harlan T. Bobo A History Of Violence LP (Goner)
Straight up: the name “Harlan T. Bobo” befits an Aerosmith-themed circus clown, so I always politely avoided his music in the past. There are just too many people out there making music for me to lend my ear to someone with a name like that, you know? Anyway, I relented and peeped this new one, and I have to say, it’s undeniably great, a finely crafted album of mature n’ depressed rock music. Why didn’t anyone tell me about this guy – did all of you avoid him because of the name, too? Anyway, Bobo stacks up against vice-laden white-guy greats like Lou Reed and Leonard Cohen here, calmly enunciating his whiskey-worn voice through exquisite tales of sorrow and redemption. He works sullen, contemplative ballads as expertly as he grinds out garage-y grooves – clearly any standard delivery method of rock n’ roll is grist for Bobo’s mill. It’s only a matter of time before one of the more plaintive, moody numbers here end up soundtracking one of the many Netflix true-crime documentaries, if it hasn’t already happened. The songs are polished and sharp, but it’s Bobo’s confident, experienced voice that really makes A History Of Violence a notable entry into today’s garage-rock league of elder-statesmen. I love it, but I’m still not sure I’m ready to wear a t-shirt that says “Harlan T. Bobo” on it. We’ll see.
Brandy Laugh Track LP (Monofonus Press)
I’d been wondering what the Moesha star had been up to lately (I loved that show), but unfortunately this album isn’t going to help me out with that. Nope, this is a new noise-punk trio out of Brooklyn featuring personnel from Pampers and Running, and their music is as knowingly rude as the smirks the band members wear on the back cover. Their closest sonic relative is without a doubt Mayyors – both groups share a massive wall of midrange fuzz and stomp it out all over the place, with the vocalist’s nasal sneer echoing off every flat surface in proximity. Whereas Mayyors were content to bash the listener’s skull repeatedly and without constraint, though, Brandy vary their approach a bit on their debut. Expect high-octane moshers that would delight any half-wasted Oh Sees fan to buffer rigid scuffles that recall Lamps at their most inflamed throughout Laugh Track, with nods to classic punk buried deep within the scuzz. Much like Lamps and Mayyors, it’s hard to decipher if Brandy is laughing with us or directly at us, as they seem to coat their disgust (or delight?) in a thick layer of dry wit. They’ve even got funny song titles that aren’t the normal sort of “funny song titles”, but rather ones like “Two Titles With A Slash Pt. I”, “Two Titles With A Slash Pt. II”, and “Blandy”. I wouldn’t be surprised if they find a way to somehow make fun of me for writing this review, even though it was entirely positive!
The Coltranes White Hag LP (SPHC)
There are more sub-genres and aesthetic options for punk and hardcore bands than ever before, and with White Hag, The Coltranes pull at a few directions at once. The cover is a violent, Mike Diana-esque sketch of various evil creatures and gimp-masked beings dragging the Pope to his torturous demise, of which the album title seems to bear no direct relation, and it comes with a short story of the same title in booklet form, presented by something called “House Of Alternative Production” (is this a Uranium Club influence?). I’m not sure what sense is being made here, but thankfully the music of The Coltranes is much more direct. Much of this album borrows strongly from early ’80s Black Flag (lots of My War and Slip It In style riffing) with a vocalist who snarls like an exaggerated Ross from Ceremony. That’s a musical combination that will almost always work well, and it certainly works here. At times, all the mid-tempo riffing can grow monotonous (and not in a good way), particularly as it’s a fairly long album by modern hardcore-punk standards, but just when I’m getting bored I’ll notice that the singer is ranting about how Wednesday is his favorite day of the week, so I’ll let it ride. A confusing album, but maybe it makes perfect sense to them.
DJ Quest / Go Like This Double Homicide 2 12″ & 7″ flexi (Alimentary Music)
True West Bay dank-core is immortal, confirmed by this split between DJ Quest and Go Like This. Simply seeing their logos in that same Plutocracy-style lettering on the cover makes me smile, and the music within operates on that same level. DJ Quest is a San Franciscan turntablist who offers up some thick bounce on his tracks here. Touches of acid add color to his booty-bass alongside various samples, not to mention a cut-up track of Go Like This samples that are just waiting to be co-opted by KMFDM or Ministry. Go Like This feature members of Agents Of Satan (one of the all-time greats) and Plutocracy (one of the other all-time greats), and they play in the manner you might expect from such a pedigree: quick-changing thrash-metal / grindcore with multiple vocalists, ridiculously hard samples and a strong predilection for the devil’s lettuce. The 12″ comes with a red-vinyl flexi with more material from DJ Quest alongside DJ Stinkweed, as well as a hand-burnt insert, in case you didn’t already notice the intense level of care that was put into the making of Double Homicide 2. Rest assured that in some smoked-out basement, Tony Molina is currently moshing to this record, so why not try it out for yourself?
Donato Dozzy Filo Loves The Acid 2xLP (Tresor)
For Tresor’s three hundred and third release, they decided to release Donato Dozzy’s Filo Loves The Acid, an album seemingly in tribute of the Roland 303 and its world-famously acidic properties. Get it? Now, we all love Donato Dozzy (I certainly do), and he continues to pump out new records at a healthy clip (I didn’t get a chance to review his recent Mindless Fullness EP and it’s top-notch), but I’m starting to think that simply hearing about this album would be as necessary as hearing it. Dozzy is a born innovator, but Filo Loves The Acid is a traditional run through the same paths acid-techno has taken over the past 3+ decades. It’s a respectable and trusty entry in the genre, one that abides by all the standard rules and pounds out club-ready thumps alongside squiggly acid worms, but there’s nothing remotely new at play here. If you’ve never heard the genre before, it’s a fine introduction (presuming a record from 2018 is an acceptable way to learn about the genre – could a person first learn about punk via a punk record from 2018?), but Donato Dozzy is at his best when operating solely by his own set of rules, not that of a fully-defined (and done to death) genre. I’d rather hear what he would come up with using only an autoharp, a contact mic and a sampler, and if his track record is any indication, a record that weird is probably forthcoming.
FÃ¥glar I Bur Platt / Öppen Inbjudan 7″ (I Dischi Del Barone)
Ahh, I certainly enjoy my share of I Dischi 7″ singles, but this one, this is the one to get! FÃ¥glar I Bur are new to me, and probably new to everyone, seeing as this is their only public recording, but this 7″ single is marvelous and I’m spinning it to pieces. The quickest way to describe them would be to proffer the question “what if Young Marble Giants played industrial music?”, and trust me, FÃ¥glar I Bur live up to such a lofty fantasy. “Platt” features a pissed-off drum machine with some underlying electronic distress as vocalist Felicia Lindgren talks smack in her native Swedish tongue. “Öppen Inbjudan” sounds like a smoothed-out dub of Neutral, another Swedish industrial-esque duo that shares a number of attributes with FÃ¥glar I Bur, although FÃ¥glar I Bur seem far more reserved and minimal, and less prone to feedback and violent outburst. Both tracks make their point succinctly, and while it’s clearly of a certain industrial tradition, this duo is on their own unique trip and I’m already desperate for more.
FRKSE Denigration Rapture 7″ (Iron Lung)
Cool to see Massachusetts-based noise-jammers FRKSE link up with the Iron Lung fellas. It’s not a combo I saw coming, but one that makes sense: FRKSE always seemed to be winking toward some aspect of gnarly underground guitar music, and Iron Lung has no shortage of ugly mutated noise blasts in its back catalog. This 7″ is a fine introduction if you’re not familiar with FRKSE, and if you do happen to like it, there’s a massive discography awaiting your perusal. A collage of samples sandwiched into some churning rhythmic aspects is what you get with opener “Burn First Then An Affront”, not unlike a basement-industrial Demdike Stare. Same goes for “Lions To Poach”, not entirely removed from other currently-active industrial loop-based creeps like Hogg or SabaSaba, but FRKSE have been at it long enough to have honed into their specific little corner of the genre. There’s a tension and mystery within FRKSE’s murky tracks, similar to Leda perhaps, but with a vaguely Middle-Eastern feel at times, due to the stringed instruments and percussion that sometimes shine through the deep patina of the samples. The best part is, if you accidentally leave this record in your car on a hot day and it badly warps, it’ll only sound better!
Gad Whip Post Internet Blues LP (X-Mist)
Gad Whip are an attractive proposition for various mindsets and aesthetics, as demonstrated by their first record on the New York-based avant-rock label Ever/Never and this follow-up on German punk/hardcore label X-Mist. On Post Internet Blues, they sound like some sort of lonely strain of ’90s alt-rock mixed with the sour tongue of Crass… wait, isn’t that the exact formula for Chumbawumba? Maybe I need to review my findings. I’m serious though, the music here recalls early Radiohead, maybe Filter or even Incubus (soaring, sorta-artsy bass lines; chugging grooves; a willingness to get funky), whereas the vocalist continues to ignore the music almost entirely, ranting and raving about various specific miseries in a manner very similar to Sleaford Mods, or when less aggressive, Wat Tyler. Most of the references are beyond me: I got the one about Twitter, and the album title makes sense, but I have no idea what “Goat Bag” is about, even though he repeats it dozens of times. I’m not mad, though – I love when artists focus in on the details of their lives and center that in their art, even if it leaves me a little lost. At least it’s honest, right? There’s a lot of sharp honesty to be found within Post Internet Blues, even if the music sounds like Tool covering Pink Floyd. God bless these weirdos.
Half Human Positive Image LP (Specious Arts)
There once was a sound and style that I associated with Brooklyn’s indie-punk scene, but that’s become a thing of the past. Nowadays, when I hear a new band from Brooklyn, they’re either precisely copying some other more popular band, or off in some sort of bizarre stylistic netherworld, put together seemingly at random. Half Human exist in the second camp, and Positive Image is their somewhat confusing first album. They seem unable to stay in one place for too long, both stylistically and musically. A plunging New Order bass-line will guide a gothic post-punk jam, only to be followed by a rickety, brittle no-wave spasm. Not to mention the track “Territory In Exchange”, which feels like Liars on a heavy kick of Rush, and it weirdly starts as the last song on the a-side, only to continue as the first song on the b-side (at least I think it’s the same song?). And just when it seems like the prog-rock influence has taken over and Half Human are on some “King Crimson meets Drab Majesty” tip, the last song artfully drones across nearly seven minutes like Slint dueling Pittsburgh noise-rockers Microwaves at midnight. A whole lot of ideas here, and Half Human will stick them just about anywhere, like a big computer monitor covered in post-it notes. You might not like all of it, but you’ll probably enjoy some of it!
Haus Arafna Blut РTrilogie Des Blutes | Nachblutung 2xLP (Galakthorr̦)
The last Haus Arafna album to receive deluxe vinyl treatment is their debut, Blut. Initially a CD-only release from 1995, it now exists as a gatefold double LP on opaque blood-red vinyl, complete with the Nachblutung tracks that previously only existed as a bonus to the 2006 CD remaster. I’m as big a Haus Arafna fan as they come (they’re like the brooding gothic parents I never had), so this was a nice addition to my collection, and of course it’s put together in fine Galakthorrö fashion, to their always exacting standards. As far as the album itself goes, one can certainly tell that this is Haus Arafna at their earliest and rawest – brutal rhythmic pulses, guttural screams, electric shock treatment and dramatic analog synths are all poised to strike, and strike they do. It’s a stunning declaration, one that fuses the beautiful decay of classic industrial and gothic melodrama with the harsh vigor of early power-electronics, and it still sounds exciting all these years later. That said, I think Haus Arafna have only gotten better through the years, finding new ways to present similar underlying themes, and mastering the use of “VCO, VCF and VCA” – hell, even writing catchy songs within this imposing and aggressive style. Now that all previous ghosts have been properly reissued, let’s hope there’s a new album shortly on the way.
ISS ISS LP (Drunken Sailor)
First thing’s first, I love ISS, the North Carolina-based post-punk duo that utilize classic and obscure punk samples to create their rickety lo-fi scrums. That said, did we really need a vinyl reissue of their debut 2015 cassette, following last year’s Endless Pussyfooting album and a 7″ EP earlier this year? Speaking as a fan of the group, I’m not sure I needed it, and I have to wonder who the audience is that has the amount of money necessary to buy all this stuff, all while presumably purchasing records by other bands they enjoy. As a concept and as songwriters, ISS have only gotten sharper over the years, so while these early tracks offer a nice glimpse into their formative days, both musically (samples buffer their drum-and-bass-led punk rock rather than seamlessly integrate) and punk-pun related (you get “(Dis)charge It To The Game” and “(I Want A) Amphetamine Prescription” here), it’s simply not as good as their other two records. Which is a good thing, because it means they keep getting better, but it also makes this record somewhat extraneous in the process, contributing to a vinyl-overloaded malaise wherein a thoughtful punk shopper just backs away empty-handed, crippled by the endless choices, rather than picking up the one great record by one great band on the “new arrivals” list. I realize I’m stretching here, but honestly am I really stretching that much?
Patricia Kokett Diabel 12″ (Knekelhuis)
The hits just keep on coming from Dutch mostly-techno label Knekelhuis. I hadn’t heard of Patricia Kokett before, but I took a chance, and I’m glad I did, as these four songs are great. Kokett plays an unhurried form of EBM techno, music that coasts on a longboard past industrial and trance for sunnier pastures. A track like “Mmuo” is practically krautrock in the fully electronic sense of the term, but without any retro throwback feel… it pulses with a neon beat and smooth transitions, and in true nonsensical krautrock fashion, is punctuated by an elephant’s roar. Some of Diabel is so warm and inviting, it almost feels like a hidden soundtrack to Mario 64, but it comes without any of vaporwave’s cloying nostalgia. I still play the Job Sifre 12″ on Knekelhuis all the time, and Diabel feels like the optimistic corollary to Job Sifre’s gloomy doom, almost reaching Avalon Emerson levels of jubilant optimism. Patricia Kokett is clearly a raver at heart, but approaches things with a tender humanity that piles of neon strobe-lit pills can sometimes miss. Of course, pills might go well with Diabel, but I’ll leave that to the more adventurous listeners.
Limbs Bin One Happy World LP (Torn Light)
Limbs Bin continue their singular-minded approach to noise (and grind?) with One Happy World, the artist’s first full-length vinyl LP following numerous cassettes. Much like the flexi that came through these pages a couple years ago, the Limbs Bin style remains the same: harsh noise blasts (a drum machine turned up to 1,000 BPM, maybe?) over screamed sentences or phrases. These blasts tend to last as long as the average sentence (I wanna say between three and five seconds?), and there are plenty of them to go around here. Occasionally the vocals will be shouted in some sort of rhythmic pattern, but for the most part it’s grind-speed power-electronics and screamed vocals, with feedback filling in for the vocals whenever Josh Landes (it’s his solo project) needs to take a breath. Both sides end with extended silence tracks, and I’m not sure if that was a mastering goof-up or some intentional artistic statement, but either way it adds a starkness to Limbs Bin’s extreme noise content. I’m not sure exactly how long a person can continue a project that sticks to such a rigid and fixed formula as this, but I appreciate that Limbs Bin shows no signs of fatigue. Maybe I should go ask Vomir!
Lolina The Smoke LP (no label)
The first time I listened to this new album by Inga Copeland’s Lolina alias, it reminded me of To Live And Shave In LA, in the manner that it bludgeoned me with its sheer ridiculous audacity. The Smoke sounded great on that first listen, but I’ve spun it countless times since then, and songs have emerged from the big pile of question marks that first hit my ears. Let’s call it “experimental synth-pop”, although I don’t think Copeland is particularly experimenting with anything besides just being herself. The beats here are sad and weird, somewhere between Tin Man’s Acid Test series and Lil Yachty, and Copeland sings and rants over them with the ease and comfort usually reserved for covering Ramones songs. Her voice is particularly great, and weird – from what I can gather, she’s Russian-born but has been living in London for a number of years, but her voice sounds neither Russian nor British… more like some new digitally-enhanced species of human being? But there aren’t crazy effects added to her voice, it’s just her voice. Her manner of production and vocals are enough to delight, even if they were delivered in random jumbles, but these songs really are perversely catchy, or actually just regular-catchy. One of the finest albums of the year, I’d say!
The Mighty Jabronis Heart Punch My Heart / Put ‘Em In A Headlock 7″ (Uh Huh)
Not trying to brag, but I feel uniquely qualified to critique a pro-wrestling-themed punk band, so let’s get to it. The Mighty Jabronis are proudly such, named after one of The Rock’s most popular insults and dedicated to goofball wrestling worship via classic upbeat punk rock. “Heart Punch My Heart” and “Put ‘Em In A Headlock” are sonically akin to collector-scum punk like The Child Molesters and The Shit Dogs, or perhaps more directly The Turnbuckles and their Super Destroyer Mark II single, and while that’s perfectly A-OK, The Mighty Jabronis merely tread the genre’s water. The a-side is based on Roman Reigns’ finishing move, which would be like writing a punksploitation song that pays homage to Green Day’s American Idiot. You know, painfully poseurish, even for a subculture that is inherently uncool. If wrestling is a funny joke to you, and you just like the stuff on cable TV, you’ll probably get a couple hoots from this single, but I have to wonder what Antiseen or Rancid Vat would think. They probably keep a steel chair handy for situations just like this.
Mosquitoes Drip Water Hollow Out Stone 12″ (Ever/Never)
That’s not just a cool poetic title to Mosquitoes’ five-song EP, it’s also the five song titles strung together. This London-based group delighted me with their first self-released 7″, and it’s nice that Ever/Never brought their goods to an American audience, as that’s where I live, and this is my kinda thing. They still remind me of Sightings here, which is a rare and admirable quality, but they’re like Sightings without the feedback or squelch. Their form of avant-rock seems to tiptoe across the marble floor, delicately tickling your ribs rather than blasting you out of your chair. The bass dances around just like Sightings’ did, but the drums here are carefully measured, wherein the tuning of the drums is just as important as the impact of their hits. The vocals are quietly muttered – I can’t confirm they’re even in English, but they convey plenty of confusion and disarray regardless of the lyrics or total lack thereof – and the guitar takes the band name to heart, buzzing like a winged insect that should’ve gone extinct eons ago but instead continues to thrive. Probably the freshest and coolest no-wave-derived music I’ve heard in a while!
Mountain Movers New Jam 12″ (C/Site Recordings)
Mountain Movers might not have been moving actual mountains, but they’ve been working nearly as hard, touring around the Northeast and beyond while releasing a steady stream of vinyl and tapes. This new one moves away from their normal song construction in search of headier territory, one that I certainly appreciate a bit more than their average indie-rock nugget. The title here tells no lies: you get two “new jams” on this comfortably-lengthy 12″ single and one titled track, all seeking higher levels of sonic elevation. “New Jam 5” and “New Jam 3” work essentially the same bass-line, but don’t worry, it’s a sweet one, with drums locked into the pattern like musical crochet as the guitar explores the deepest reaches of whatever psychedelic effects pedal is closest by. I’m feeling like Bardo Pond, Can and Brainticket may have provided some inspiration here, and if you’re looking to play instrumental rock music, it’s hard to go wrong with those forefathers gazing down upon you. “Clearview Hwy.” is the other track here, and it’s a little looser than the jams; it’s a loose improvisation that sounds like a half-asleep Laddio Bolocko, which is nearly as good as wide-awake Laddio Bolocko, and it works as an enjoyably hazy respite from the cunning bassline of both “New Jam” tracks. More of a mountain chiller than a mountain mover, but it suits them well.
No Love Choke On It LP (Sorry State)
Has anyone else noticed that a specifically North Carolinian hardcore-punk sound has developed over the past few years? It’s been brewing for a decade or so, probably fostered by the great support system of label / distro Sorry State, but it feels firmly in place at this point. The generalized NC style streamlines garage-rock riffs into cascading hardcore punk tempos, with minimal breaks, few dirges, only the occasional d-beat and a level of musicianship and recording quality that notably surpasses poor or lo-fi. I’m thinking of Brain F≠and the associated Joint D≠, as well as Davidians to some degree, and of course No Love, with their debut LP Choke On It. It fits my earlier description head-on, complete with shouted-yet-discernible vocals, tasteful guitar-work and even a cover of their buddies ISS. I’m also reminded of White Lung before they decided to “go for it”, in the way that these fiery tunes songs ceaselessly blur into each other due to a fairly homogeneous tempo and sound. I could go for less technical perfection from No Love and more personality and attitude – there isn’t one memorable chorus here, but it feels like most songs are streams of parts rather than distinct verses/choruses anyway. They seem like a likeable group though, and No Love clearly have worked hard at Choke On It, so if they’re happy with it, I’m happy for them.
Thee Open Sex White Horses LP (Sophomore Lounge)
You never know what you’re going to get from Sophomore Lounge, except for maybe that the artist probably hails from a non-major city and there’s a good chance an amplified guitar will be involved. Both are true for Bloomington’s Thee Open Sex, a project that revolves around guitarist John Dawson and his various serious-musician friends, but serious in a good way – these folks aren’t trying to become rich stars, they’re simply trying to reach new pinnacles of sound. White Horses is my first time hearing Thee Open Sex and it’s a highly enjoyable excursion into deep krautrock territory. The track “White Horses” takes up both sides in two parts, and it takes shape via extended snare roll, cyclical guitar melody and the slow-build of some cosmic keyboards. Very Neu!, very Manuel Göttsching, and not entirely removed from Faust & Tony Conrad… maybe if “Bitchin’ Bajas & Tony Conrad” ever existed, it’d be similar? It’s an old and well-worn concept, an infinite spiral of two notes aiming up to the heavens, but it’s a trusty one… White Horses is a suitable key for unlocking one’s third eye.
Pious Faults Old Thread LP (Feel It)
Holy moly, I’m just calling it right now: this is my favorite hardcore-punk album of the year! I’ve never heard of Brisbane’s Pious Faults before, but I’m already obsessed. Allow me to try to explain their deal: they come correct with the unpredictable frenzy of Cult Ritual at their peak (sans all the distortion and heaviness), the manic post-punk sneer of Seems Twice and S.Y.P.H., and the general sound of classic hardcore/punk somewhere between, say, The State’s No Illusions EP and Feederz’s Ever Feel Like Killing Your Boss? album. It’s a unique cocktail, and Pious Faults seem to be operating purely under their own authority, rewriting hardcore without losing its inherent visceral impact or lack of pretense. These songs are all wildly different, from tuneless bashing that recalls the first Hospitals album to intricate off-kilter grooves (I’m going to once again invoke the great name of Seems Twice), or even frantic inexplicable punk ragers that sound like Saccharine Trust attempting no-wave. I’ve thrown out a lot of big names here, but I’m telling you, Pious Faults could stomp around with the best of ’em. And would you look at that, they’re touring the States right now!
Protomartyr & Spray Paint Irony Prompts A Party Rat 7″ (Monofonus Press)
Goddamn, I love a good anagram, and the title of this EP (combining both band names) is startlingly well-suited and poetic. Somehow, these two bands decided not to do a split, but combine together to write and record these two songs. I’m fascinated as to how that works (did the guitar players flip a coin?), not to mention how awkward it must be to present a new riff not just to your bandmates but another entire band as well, but these guys made it happen. That alone is enough to earn my respect, but these two tracks are worth hearing, too – somehow, this record isn’t a novelty afterthought. “Corinthian Leather” is moody and crude, like Protomartyr After Dark or something, whereas “Bags & Cans” rides a chiming, upbeat pogo into some sort of Interpol speedzone with someone other than Protomartyr’s Joe Casey on vocals. Cool tunes for sure, but if they really want to impress me they should add another group to the mix. Can you imagine all the great possible anagrams from Protomartyr & Spray Paint & Clap Your Hands Say Yeah?
Raime Am I Using Content Or Is Content Using Me? 12″ (Different Circles)
The title of this new Raime EP is so corny in that Black Mirror sort of way that it has to be intentional, right? Raime are fan of elegantly long titles, but never before so direct, and their music is so consistently smart and forward-thinking that I can only assume they are as people, too. Title aside, this new four-song EP is another change-up from Raime, albeit one that fits in with their general MO of minimalist reduction. They’ve sucked the marrow out of dubstep, drone and industrial techno in the past, and this time it’s more of a take on future-bass or grime instrumentals. I’m reminded of Fatima Al Qadiri, or perhaps Kode9, just with the actual drums and bassline removed. Rather, Raime work exclusively with the sounds that normally would be placed on top of the beat, resulting in nimble dance movements with plenty of open air. The sounds they utilize are cool (synthetic animal roars, digi-flutes, crowd noises and artificially-rendered shakers), and distributed in slowly-emerging patterns. Not sure if I’m using Raime or if they’re using me when I listen to these tracks, but I’m happy either way.
Scumputer / L.O.T.I.O.N. Campaign For Digital Destruction LP (540)
After releasing one of my favorite albums of 2015, L.O.T.I.O.N. took it kind of easy, so I was thrilled to see that this new split LP with Scumputer (a solo project by Chaos UK guitarist Gabba) was ready to go. Scumputer are up first, and while I was hoping for the music to live up to the name and cover art, Scumputer isn’t nearly as harsh or extreme as I had hoped. The electronic drums are programmed to fast punk beats, often overloaded with tinny guitars and various samples (including a more-or-less remix of RUN-DMC’s “My Adidas” at one point), but instead of sounding like some brutal mix of gabber-techno and Chaos UK, I’m reminded of the more aggressive Atom & His Package songs with different vocals. Sorry! I guess Scumputer’s tracks are fun and ultimately harmless, but I have no intention of returning to them anytime soon, especially since L.O.T.I.O.N. is on the other side, and their contribution is fantastic. Their side opens with the sound of a chopper and distorted emergency sirens before kicking into some unholy sonic union of M Ax Noi Mach, Psalm 69 and the second track on G.I.S.M.’s SoniCRIME TheRapy. It’s mostly a mid-paced affair, perfect as the soundtrack to a robotic horde of mutant punks marching toward a city hall engulfed in flames, and entirely appropriate for the Lärm-referencing title. Cool lyrics too, relaying modern-day horror without being typical or generic. Hoping the next L.O.T.I.O.N. release arrives before we’re all huddled around the Amazon-Google water-tanks, awaiting our weekly rations.
The Skygreen Leopards The Jingling World Of The Skygreen Leopwards LP (Soft Abuse)
Let’s take a trip back to 2002, a time when you could tell your friends you just printed up a CD-r release and they’d respond with “cool!” instead of “huh?”, a time when dropping out of life with psychedelic imagery in hand was alluring and even sensible. That’s when Glenn Donaldson’s group The Skygreen Leopards recorded the material on The Jingling World Of, which compiles two early CD-r releases and some other random tracks of that era. It fits in well with other weird folksters of the time, like Devendra Banhart, Six Organs Of Admittance or Espers, but Skygreen Leopards was always a bit more reserved and less distinctively retro-minded than some of their more popular peers. These songs borrow from the sad and hazy tones of Sarah Records as much as the folksy strum of Pentangle or Fairport Convention, with just a light swab of Beachwood Sparks for good measure. It’s pretty pleasant music, although it passes by shyly, just as content to be forgotten as beloved. Personally, I could take or leave their Jingling World, but I’m here right now, and it’s nice.
Spiritual Cramp Police State 7″ (Deranged)
San Francisco’s Spiritual Cramp have been opening popular hardcore fests for a little bit now, and while that’s a fun place to be (I for one wish I enjoyed their close proximity to Cold World), I can’t help but think that less moshy pastures await them. That’s the impression I get while listening to their new Police State EP, at least. On stage, they’re a raucous jean-jacket punk band, complete with tambourine player (I wonder how many people they auditioned for the job?) and swiftly down-picked guitars, but they display a greater range throughout these four tracks, dare I say a more “mature” punk sound. The opener “Spiritual Cramp” is the straight-ahead anthem (as any band-name-titled song should be), but the rest of the EP takes aim at older punk styles that haven’t been overly mined in recent times. I’m hearing plenty of Clash, Subway Sect and maybe even a little Ian Dury on these tracks – it’s very upbeat and two-tone/mod inspired, with crooned vocals one might expect to find in lively conversation with Debbie Harry and David Johansen at some Manhattan dive circa 1978, all trying to avoid Cheetah Chrome. These songs are surprisingly tender, and while they’re mostly written in a basic verse/chorus/repeat/end formula, I think they’re onto something special – perhaps it’s album time?
Tanz Ohne Musik Night 7″ (Galakthorrö)
Tanz Ohne Musik are one of the rare Galakthorrö artists with a significant discography prior to joining up with the label, but don’t let that mislead you into thinking they are musically distant from the rest of the crew. Nope, Tanz Ohne Musik sound exactly as one would expect a Galakthorrö artist to sound: gloomy, overtly-gothic industrial synth-wave with morbid themes and troubled vocals sung in Romanian-accented English. It’s comforting, knowing exactly what Night is going to sound like before actually hearing it, and Tanz Ohne Musik deliver on that inherent promise. These four songs are lovely, falling more on the softly-dour side of the spectrum (expect moody synth tension ala November Növelet, not scalding furnace blasts ala Haus Arafna), but still bone-chilling and seductive. The fact that Tanz Ohne Musik are Romanian only enhances their vampiric qualities, which is exactly what I want from music like this, the sense that it was composed and written by a dying Nosferatu who refused to drink the blood of his true love. Immortality never seemed so desirable!
Teakup Miscellanea I 12″ (Is/Was)
A lot of European techno gets discussed in these pages, but I’m an ugly American through and through, so I decided to check out this new EP from Ohio’s Teakup on the Pittsburgh-based Is/Was label. They’re only doing vinyl (they sell the records through Bandcamp with no sound samples – you’ve gotta admire that audacity!), and I sure like vinyl, so I’m glad to have made their acquaintance. Miscellanea I lives up to its title in the varied sounds and styles explored through its four cuts, but in a highly enjoyable way. Opener “Lose My Mind” sounds like peak-time Audion or Jon Convex… elastic and energetic tech-house with cool vocal effects. It’s followed by the rough n’ ready Detroit-style techno of “Shimmer” and “Darkcore 2020”, which seems to reference its intense drum n’ bass style in the title, not unlike a lost Peverelist remix. The EP wraps with “I Don’t Fkn Kno”, another punchy tech-house sizzler in the classic style of Perlon. Nothing groundbreaking, but all four tracks are catchy little winners… plus, this was made somewhere in Ohio, one of the hardest places in the developed world to successfully rave. Credit where credit is due to Teakup.
Upsammy Words R Inert 12″ (Die Orakel)
Within four seconds of “Dancing Faries”, the first cut on this 12″ EP, you know whether you’re in or you’re out – Upsammy gets into her turbo-boosted electro right out of the gate. It’s great! Imagine Dopplereffekt at their most caffeinated, practically levitating across the dance-floor with a massive, twitchy beat. That would be enough for me, but Upsammy throws some viscous synths over top, running over the edges of the groove like too much syrup on pancakes. It’s simple but perfect, in the same manner that Avalon Emerson’s “The Frontier” is. “Wednesday Morning” is nearly as exceptional. It’s far less hectic but more demented, the sort of thing I’d expect to hear while grocery shopping in the year 2078. Music for light industry of the future, no doubt. The title track commands the b-side and it’s the slowest by far, pulsing like some sort of bioluminescent sea creature outside of Drexciya’s Atlantean home. These tracks are familiar in the way that pulse-pounding electro beats can’t help but be, but vastly alien due to the manner in which Upsammy approaches them, thanks to her uniquely tuned ear for unexpected melodic patterns. Top pick!
Bugge Wesseltoft & Prins Thomas Bugge Wesseltoft & Prins Thomas 2xLP (Smalltown Supersound)
So, you want your child to achieve greatness someday? Allow me to recommend that you name them “Bugge Wesseltoft”. It’s the name of the Norwegian pianist and jazz musician who teamed up with Prins Thomas for this sumptuous long-playing affair. I realize that “chill ambient jazz and instrumental hip-hop for studying and relaxing” is a disgustingly powerful new genre care of Spotify and the various other passive-listening phone apps that modern society seems to love so much, but let me tell you, I’ve been getting a lot of mileage out of this album and I don’t care who knows it. They go deep on their grooves here, with multiple tracks around fifteen minutes or so, and it really pays off. Skittering percussion will lead to some featherweight house music, a jazzy groove will open into some passive ambient bliss, and it all shifts gracefully, like one of those plants that folds up its leaves at night. Prins Thomas seems to leave his trademark space-disco behind in favor of airy live instrumentation and exploratory coffeehouse melodies, and the result is a small piece of magic. I can’t say there’s any particular moment on here that’s must-hear, or any track or aspect that is liable to blow minds, but I’ve probably listened to this album more than anything else in the past two weeks, so there must be some explanation to be found somewhere. Maybe I’m just old now?
Yu Su Preparations For Departure 12″ (Arcane)
As the lines of techno, jazz and ambient continue to dissolve upon each other, more and more cool records are popping up in those blurred areas, such as this five-track EP from Yu Su. Preparations For Departure is a lush record, one that finishes smooth after floating by like a particularly appealing cloud formation. Expect clarinet and live bass among chiming chords and potent synths, resulting in something akin to Keith Jarrett remixed by Newworldaquarium. You know I love me some horn-based techno, but this EP doesn’t hit any dance-floors… instead, it aims for the back of your skull as you slowly relax all muscles and give in to Yu Su’s soothing ebb and flow. if this record were a massage, it’d be pure Alexander technique. I get the sense from the postcard memorial that comes tucked inside the sleeve, as well as the title itself, that Yu Su was thinking about the afterlife when she put this record together, so if death is even half as soothingly serene as this music, I’m no longer frightened by my eventual tomb ride.
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