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Damaged and distorted power pop for no generation at all, and for every member of every generation ever. It’s simple, it’s raw, and the guitars are dominant and come at you from every direction. Two tracks. 100% punk gold.
You like testosterone rock? Well, eat this shit up. Complete MC5 worship that totally falls flat. At least it’s not more pop punk in my pile, but it’s completely rehashed rock garbage, and the drummer doesn’t even have the decency to change his last name from “Rath” to “Wrath.”
This is hard-hitting, tight punk with a horror-style surf guitar, not unlike DEAD KENNEDYS and even a pinch of AGENT ORANGE, with the vocals a stone’s throw from a better-honed Kirsten of NAKED AGGRESSION. It seems a little too well-produced for something that’s trying to sound raw, but some people go for that shit. This is undeniably tight, well-oiled, and spastic, even if it’s a few decades too late.
Who do we have to blame for the mass proliferation of three-initial hardcore bands in the ’80s? SSD? DOA? CCR? MRR? In any event, MSI most likely predates ATI (ANY THREE INITIALS) as the first to satirize the trend. Existing from 1986 until 1990, this band of Toronto-area youths churned out some decent meat ’n’ potatoes hardcore, and 9 Out of 10 Doctors compiles the complete 1986 and 1988 studio sessions from which their two proper EPs were selected. It should be obvious even before listening that MSI laced their musical output with a healthy dose of tongue-in-cheek humor. Sure enough, the LP opens with a track called “Generic Straightedge Song,” and features covers of “Sugar Sugar” and a song from a Rankin/Bass animated TV series. However, unlike full-on joke bands like CRUCIAL YOUTH or GRUDGE, MSI were more likely just goofy teenagers. I’d imagine this lovingly assembled archival release, complete with a big booklet, would please fans of reissues by the likes of NEGATIVE ELEMENT or YOUNG REPUBLICANS. If you want something that dials the intensity up a bit higher, check out Schizophrenic’s expanded reissue of the SONS OF ISHMAEL Hayseed Hardcore EP (that band shared a member with MSI and really ripped).
Upbeat post-punk with strong pop undertones, but still aggressive enough to sound unmistakably punk. The songs are melodic and pretty, but also unsettling. These two different tendencies pull in competing directions, creating a natural tension. Just when you think the song has settled into a poppy riff, it gets weird again, throwing in layers of dissonant chords, unexpected accents, and yelling. Their 2016 release includes a cover of a SLANT 6 song, and the influence is still a relevant point of reference on this release. This record has five tracks, definitely looking forward to more.
On first listen, it sounds like some 50-year-olds sat around listening to the BAY CITY ROLLERS, REDD KROSS, and NICK LOWE. There’s not much punk here at all, if any. It is, however, well-crafted, old dude mellowed bubblegum—too light on the rock, and a little too heavy on personal songwriting prowess and skill to be appreciated by the MRR elite, though there are more songs on which I’ve hit the repeat button than stinkers that I have skipped. I know you don’t really wanna listen to it, but what if I told you DJ BONEBREAK played drums? Don’t you wanna maybe try it out just for shits and giggles, now? Yes. Yes, you do. Plus, maybe your parents will hear you listening to this and get off your case for one fucking minute.
This Brooklyn band plays a rollicking blend of party punk and rock’n’roll. Metallic riffs and playing bolster the sound, which is a combination of early VAN HALEN, NEW YORK DOLLS, and would you believe POISON IDEA? I honestly enjoyed this a lot more than I thought I would, based on the terrible cover art and inscrutable name. From the looks of the photos, these are not young guys, and they’ve been around the block. But they know what they’re doing, and have managed to churn out a great ’80s punk / metal LP in 2019.
Remastered reissue of LOST SOUNDS’ game-changer debut album from 2001. It’s pretty hard to overstate the impact they had on my taste— they just blew my brain apart. Having already thoroughly flipped for the REATARDS, LOST SOUNDS took that completely raw, blood-dripping punk sound and augmented it with synths to craft something far darker and often more dangerous than the teenage tantrum punk that was expected. This was entirely more musical, moodier, strange, and a lot more deviant. At this early stage, they had yet to submerge themselves in their march toward Black Wave, and you can still detect (gasp!) garage roots in their attack. See especially “Inside My Head” and their great reworking of the LOLLIPOP SHOPPE’s “You Must Be a Witch” for the proof. And it simply must be stated: the presence and power of ALICJA TROUT here can’t be ignored. Her songs here are totally revelatory—take a listen to “Memphis 99″ or “Satan Bought Me,” and bow down—truly one of the most dynamic and underrated ladies in all of punk. LOST SOUNDS didn’t make many false moves in their lifespan, but the beginning is a mighty fine place to start. If you haven’t heard this already, what the fuck could you possibly be waiting for?
This isn’t all that unique sounding as far as singer songwriter stuff goes outside of punk. This has moments of alt-country, folk, and guitar heavy indie rock. The rock stuff reminds me of BOB MOULD’s solo stuff as well as his ’90s band SUGAR, with a bit of twang, and the folk stuff reminds me of the WATERBOYS. Being a member of the NEW DARKBUSTER and STREET DOGS, I was expecting predictable punk folk, but this turned out more interesting. Solid release.
Yes, everybody’s favorite bad boy is back in the saddle again, finally taking the giant leap from ’70s glam into ’80s new romantic. It’s hard to tell whether he had a BILLY IDOL fetish, or someone (ahem) steered him in this direction, but whatever the case, these tunes are sure to light up pretty much any futuristic TV studio dancefloor you can find. How can you deny hot licks and a drum machine? Very good stuff.
Nasty punk rock’n’roll ready made for the California adult punk set. NASHVILLE PUSSY meets the STOOGES and/or MEATMEN for a new generation.
These St. Louis vets have crafted quite a ripping debut, with a gnarly ’80s USHC vibe and more than a touch of early punk’s crash-and-burn recklessness. CHRONIC SICK, RKL and NIHILISTICS are clear touchstones, but there’s a swagger and wildness in the mix here that’s very DEAD BOYS as well. The clear, venomous vocals are immediately distinctive, as are the wild, nearly over the top guitar leads and solos. The tempo is generally moderate, though the songwriting is so hectic that many songs feel faster than they actually are, and there are some slow burners thrown in as well. This doesn’t have the intentionally retro feel of the early ’00s USHC revival bands—it’s well-written hardcore that shares a timeless quality with bands from an earlier era.
Lawrence, Kansas’ IRON GUTS KELLY take their name from a more ridiculous episode of M*A*S*H, set during the ’50s Korean War, where a general dies in the embrace of one of the camp’s nurses, and his death is then reconstructed to appear as being in the heat of battle. The band’s outlook seems rooted in the same sort of dark irony: the EP’s cover features a drawing of a punked-out ubiquitous Kansas sunflower flipping the bird, but the humor ends there, with four tracks of meat and potatoes angry hardcore that falls somewhere between the rock edge of STRYCHNINE and the blunt force of SLAPSHOT. This decade-and-a-half-old band’s earliest recordings had the feel of early, simplistic DR. KNOW, with sustained vowels and simple thrashings, but the singer growls a bit harder here, as the playing is more confident and ambitious within its economy. No lyric sheet, but the vocals are clear enough, and “Goodfellas” is a standout track with its chorus-driven affirmation of punk community and camaraderie, rung in with a “Salad Days”-style bell intro. Slightly better production would’ve shined that one up even further.
I’d be lying if I said that TOYS THAT KILL didn’t have, and rely on, a dependable, bafflingly sturdy, formulaic style. Todd’s trademarked caterwaul, on top of his manic, monkey-mantra music, all with the same tempo and perfectly planned breaks, sandwiched between Sean’s more adult and smart songwriter-ish punk, gets a slight little twist with every release, and their shit somehow seems to never get stale. I don’t get it. It defies physics, and this little five-banger has left me wanting more, just like everything else they’ve done for the last dozen or so years. It’s still absolutely fucking killer. IRON CHIC, on the other hand, got lost on me. It’s pretty melodic, bearded and tight black t-shirt-clad (I assume), delicately growled type stuff. My appreciation for dude rock is light handed at best, and while you do get a few good whiffs of the ARRIVALS and that GRABASS CHARLESTONS/DALE AND THE CAREENERS LP—which are absolutely stellar examples of the genre, mostly—it just sounded like the rest of the stuff that makes up the majority of this sweet-yet-gruff bro’s handle on the style.
This record has such an ’80s feel. Back then, we’d simply call it college rock. It’s got a quirky musical style that is herky-jerky, filled with odd chords and time signatures, and there are elements of surf rock and post-punk. The singer has a serious but goofy vocal style, and the lyrics are thinkers such as “What Did The Deep Sea Say?” THEE IRMA & LOUISE probably would have been big in the ’80s. The insert states “This record is the companion piece to an experimental movie that you are free to shoot.” Hey, why not give it a shot? It’s on pretty, swirly lime sherbet vinyl, too.
A long time comin’ for the REPTOIDS’ round two. Psychic Sidekick serves as a not-so-subtle reminder that Andy Human & Co. remain one of the top tier outfits around these days, presenting a bent variant that’s more critical, absurdist, and exciting than most of the contemporary class. Theirs is an out-of-time sound, recalling hyper-specific influences (why oh why do I continually think about the punkest moments from the OFFS or ALIEN CITY when hearing this band?) but arranged with a personality and perspective that’s unique and just plain interesting. So many killers. “You Like Your Job” is a huge wind-up, poking a safety pin in illusions via a sick guitar schmearing, “Thrust of History” is gutter glam from Galaxy Z, “Fissures” and “Echo Pedal” both take a bird’s eye outsider view while still buzzing mightily, on and on, and no duff cuts. As much as I’ve enjoyed the singles they’ve slotted in between their albums to date, the long-form release is where the REPTOIDS truly excel—I’ll be spinning this endlessly for the foreseeable future. A vital act from the here and now, so do yourself a favor and take their trip.
Boy, if you’re put off by the trash pizza cover art, I don’t blame ya. It’s fuckin’ rough. Luckily, the music on it is much better than the visual aesthetic would suggest. The ’70s STONES-style riffing makes this one very easy to enjoy, but the dude’s vocal style put it over the top for me. It’s so laid back and matter of fact that it becomes almost comical. It’s a strange choice that I’m really enjoying. The overall effect, especially on the superior A-side, kinda reminds me of a way (way) less jammy SPACIN’ or something of that ilk. Look, I know this one’s a hard sell, but I really think it’s worth your while to try to put the cover art aside and give it a fair shot. It’s definitely a keeper to my ears.
After three LPs of rambunctious and oddball punk jingles, this Berliner/Australian combo gets the lightweight, red-stamped Total Punk sleeve treatment, and it suits them well. “Underground Agent,” “Overtime,” and “Schweinebastard” sound like a nine-year-old having a temper tantrum in the middle of older brother’s band practice. “Gasmask Factory II” uses electronic drums for a truly groove-worthy experience. While I’ve enjoyed their previous shitty-good music, I think this smaller dose works better. Those already acquainted with HEAVY METAL will not likely change their opinion either way.
Classic ’77 NYC punk with gratuitous tinges of glam (I’m talking licks for days, y’all). The titles should tell you all you need to know here, and GHETTO BLASTERS deliver as advertised.
This is it—the punkest thing in the magazine this month. Lo-fi, fucked up punk from Hazard, Kentucky, with every single note played full tilt and in the red. Every self-loathing, society-hating, paranoid word of this LP is screamed to the point of brain breaking insanity. At times, they almost share some similarities with crasher crusters trying to reimagine DISCHARGE for 2019, but GLOBSTERS is the sound of pure, unadulterated, unrefined hatred. A cassette version of this came out in 2014 (I’ve never heard it), but apparently this is a different mix and arrangement than the original. What are you waiting for? GLOBSTERS is the wildest flower.
This is a release of two three-song EPs from this long-standing Finnish smart punk outfit. They got the licks, but they got the lyrics too. Just dirty grungy anthemic punk rock with an anarcho-political bent, sounds like the ’80s all over again.
I know that when I die and go straight to hell, I’ll be forever getting my ass thoroughly beaten by all the bands I’ve slagged, all the while being reminded of my own terrible recorded output, and thousands of other embarrassments I have created. I get it, I will totally deserve it. That being said, this CD is completely undefinable—’50s doo wop sludge but also kinda cutesy. I have no idea whatsoever what these goofballs are going for. So incredibly odd, yet completely forgettable.
A double dose of ol’ Jimmy Hollywood, noted heavy from classic bands like the TYRADES and BASEBALL FURIES, most recently of GALLERY NIGHT. WHITE SAVAGE and FOOTBALL both land somewhere in the middle of all this, though the quality of each is uniformly quite high. While the bands have their own distinctions— FOOTBALL prefers direct thud, WHITE SAVAGE is more spastic and exploratory—there’s this simplistic and hard-charging drive that runs through all of Hollywood’s material: a primal and powerful use of punk energy that’s always been highly impressive to these ears. It can be heard throughout this split (which functions far better than it has any real right to!): artful and manic in equal measure, always careening, always inspiring. Great stuff.
A hard rock/punk hybrid from Southern CA, complete with punky porno sleeve. “Kitten With A Whip” sorta recalls LOUDMOUTHS in terms of theme and yowl, though there’s a studio schmaltz that doesn’t sit quite right with me. Ditto for their flipside take on the ROSE TATTOO classic. A total time warp sort of affair…It’s as if Junk Records has risen from the dead or something.
Great little debut from Galway, Ireland’s FIEND. These folks pull of the modern hardcore/punk style as exemplified by bands like RUT or BIB with aplomb. Each track is different from each other, from the brooding “Fiend” to the stomper “Scum,” but all of them explore territory that other bands have covered before. Indeed while listening to this I felt like I have heard this riffs and ideas plenty of times before. That’s not a knock against them—they’re copying from the right people—but it needs something to help it stand out from the pack. There’s a lot to like here, and I have high hopes for their next record.
This one is a straight-up grindcore ripper. While this Seattle band has some metallic tendencies, there is defiantly a heavy west coast powerviolence thing going on here. Not only that, they throw in just enough smoldering sludge riffage to keep us from burning out on the blistering blast inferno. Like TERRORIZER peppered with moments of CROSSED OUT and BRAINOIL. Sure they have a familiar sound, but this shit is well-crafted and solid as fuck! Check it out!
Split record by two Swedish punk bands. This is EIN ZWEI DIE’s (as far as I can tell) only release to date, but it was recorded in 2011, so they’re not exactly a “new” band. Probably a cool story as to why these two songs are finally gracing our ears some eight years later. No insert, no internet, only mystery. They’re cool: like if GORILLA ANGREB was trying to do FILTH covers. SHAKING HEADS are actually a new band, and five dollars says at least one of the members has a DEAD MOON tattoo. They’re dark, simplistic, anthemic, and gritty. True punk. I feel like I’ve listened to this record a hundred different times in a hundred different punk basements, but it still puts a smile on my face.
Sharp, focused, distorted modern hardcore. Overbearing buzzsaw guitars, lightning fast with a sick snarl. Think about the SKEMÄTA school of attack, but way less nuanced. Ferocity in six movements.
I remember DUMB VISION being poppier the last time I heard them, and those poppy elements are still there, but the band also seems darker and more focused. DUMB VISION is coming from a garage punk background, and layers that with the slightest bit of psych, and they do an awesome job of building their songs into a frenzy. My favorite example of that is the closer, “Don’t Die,” which builds on a riff and is fairly repetitive, but is able to build tension and acts as a perfect ending for the LP. The whole thing is a rager from start to finish.
Vinyl version of 2017’s Confrontar CD, retitled and repackaged for the 12″ format. Monstrous metallic hardcore with a production and presentation well suited for massive stages and furious sing alongs, breathing life and urgency into a subgenre often reserved for third-tier bro bands. Ruidos de Resistencia reminds me why I still have a soft spot for the heat chugs and for those melodic guitar leads, and they make everything feel important…because everything is. The only mistake here is the lack of a lyrics sheet, or even context for the words—because the words are important, especially the perspective of women in a hardcore band from Chile addressing institutional oppression and exploitation. “Cruelty Free” is the track to end all tracks, and the “every moment / every second” chorus will likely be stuck in my head for weeks. Quality fucking release from start to finish, full endorsement.
This Finland-based quartet is comprised of older chaps (30-something dads, they proclaim): among them there’s a couple of Finns, a Catalan, and a Samoan who does the singing/songwriting. Musically, at their best, they are very reminiscent of that slower melodic ’82 sound, like UK SUBS crossed with a driving UK DECAY. Or ARTICLES OF FAITH on 33 instead of 45. I guess there’s a fair amount to be said for maturity (and fatherhood?) on the back of this one?
This eleven-song debut LP from this hardcore band of OC veterans maybe has its DNA somewhere near Brats in Battalions, but punches for more straightforward DETONATORS-style rollicking retconned ’80s hardcore than guitar driven melody. The weight balance between everything that needs to come out in lyrical expression and spontaneous hardcore energy often gets tricky in the old school equation, but DEAD FRIENDS 46 are to be admired for their commitment to honoring fallen friends, a drug and alcohol free advocacy without judgment, and keeping things positive, though reading of the names of the dead friends of theirs at the end of the record is probably the most heavy and sobering thing I’ve heard on a hardcore record in some time. The covers of PETER AND THE TEST TUBE BABIES (“Banned from the Pubs”) and SOCIAL DISTORTION (“Mass Hysteria”), while interpretive, keep things fun as the tried-and-true sturdy gravel throated hardcore otherwise mines dark places.
Glam and butt-metal influenced “funny” punk from Florida. It’s obvious that a lot of time and effort went into this, evidenced by the intricate guitar shredding throughout the CD, but the goofy lyrics, party dude vibe, and multiple references to Instagram kinda kill it for me.
Weird little lathe cut record from someone who purports that this is CHRISTIAN DEATH covering the GERMS. It’s not—nobody would hear the stomp and the noise on both tracks and associate them with the atmospheric gloom of early CHRISTIAN DEATH. The cover of “Forming” on here is solid, but unfortunately it cuts off early to include a nearly incomprehensible live take on “Media Blitz” that doesn’t seem related to the original song at all. A puzzling and inessential record. The zine that comes with this document is printed on glossy paper and has some pretty nice collages and drawings showing the creator’s love of both CHRISTIAN DEATH and the GERMS. Worth it for the zine, but even that is a brief read.
Although I kinda enjoyed my first listen of this EP, now that I’ve heard this four or five times, I’ve decided that this shimmery little piece of wax needs a better, brighter light shined down on it. Sure it’s catchy as fuck, and that is most likely why I didn’t immediately pay it the attention it requires. But it’s also plenty fucking dark, which pairs quite well with poppy shit in my opinion. Like if the BOUNCING SOULS really were touched, troubled and tortured, sweet, complicated punks, instead of whatever the hell they turned out to be. A killer, unexpected BRIAN ENO cover rounds it out, and this is definitely going to be played for visitors this month. Not intentionally, though. I just don’t plan on it leaving the turntable for a while.
I’m horrifically late writing this review. I’ve been putting it off because I’m so afraid I won’t be able to do justice to this brilliant, unique, compelling debut LP by Austin’s CHRONOPHAGE, one of the best and most interesting bands in the world right now. This record sounds like everything I want when I see the tag “DIY” applied to a band: it’s chaotic but confident, it’s off-kilter but unbelievably catchy, and it sounds like it could have been made only by them. They’ll probably get a lot of comparisons to the Messthetics compilations, and that’s fair (although I think the Homework series would be more apt, since CHRONOPHAGE sounds unmistakably American to my ears), but it’s also frustrating. CHRONOPHAGE doesn’t sound like the past; they sound like the future. Or at least they sound like the future that I want to live in. Prolog for Tomorrow gets my strongest possible recommendation.
I reviewed DIALER’s debut cassette a few months ago and loved it, so I was stoked to see this. DIALER continue to use aspects of post- punk, synth, free jazz (??), and more to create a tight feeling of what the future holds for punk. They sound so fucking pissed about the state of the world, but seem cautiously optimistic about the future. Start- stop spazzing makes space for clarinet freakouts and weirdo samples, and the singer still has FILTH vibes. I’m into it. CHRONIC ANXIETY are bass and drums playing post-punk with some grunge overtones. Their singer is kind of half singing, half ranting in an almost stream-of- consciousness way about yoga and big gulps. I’m not that into it.
An homage of sorts to early ’90s post-emo rock, I think. In places, it reminds me a little of EVERGREEN. The guitars chime pleasingly over a slow-to-mid-paced rhythmic amble. The affected, whiny vocals may be a deal breaker for you on this one—for me, they fall on just the wrong side of annoying.
As soon as this started, Burger Records odors took over all of my senses. I was shocked that this wasn’t a new release from that label just due to the poppy, bubblegum garage vibrations being excreted by my speaker. Then I read that the cassette release will be coming out there, and all made sense in the world. This is four dudes from Germany who love them some garage pop saturated with oooooohs, ahhhhhhs, and jingly-jangly guitars. “Age of Coming” is a good pick if you want to anticipate a live sing-along, and “Pickle-Brine Chicken” is a real danceable jam about the culinary arts. These dudes have not reinvented any wheels, but this record is seeping with love of the genre.
This is some saxophone-heavy power pop, with forceful vocals projected by rhythm guitarist Lynne Von Pang. “Life is Not a Waiting Room” and “I Fell in Love with a Dead Boy” both offer some party- pop moments that would feel right at home in a live set opening for the RUBINOOS or SOUTHERN CULTURE ON THE SKIDS. As a counterpoint, “Scarcity” felt a little like listening to this band at a prom try to force a slow dance on kids who just want to dance like dum- dums. I would expect they have a fully entertaining stage presence, and know how to show the audience the good times. Based on this three- song sample though, I would expect to skip a few slower tracks on a longer release.
Space-age sounds for punks who dig commercial rock radio but also love HAWKWIND. Ohio’s BWAK DWAGON lose me on tracks like “The Underworld” and “Demeter” (unfortunately, these two run back to back) when they stay slow and subdued, but the weirdness dominates even on ’80s alt radio/proto darkwave trax like “Evergreen.” This band would have opened for SCREAMING TREES in 1987.
Bombastic, over the top, simplistic, noisy punk from Italy that sounds like a wall being knocked over. Kinda sounds like they are taking cues from early JESUS LIZARD at times, but I bet they’re not. Less cerebral and more grunting. Upon first listen, I didn’t care for this, but upon repeated spins the riffs kept coming out of the mire.
Holy Glam, Batman! I never heard of this guy BROWER from Virginia, but he’s definitely heard of T. REX and SWEET. Can’t think of much shit that fits this sound outside the ’70s…bedroom studio glam proto pub rock, maybe MICKEY JUPP’s LEGEND, but just the boogie rockers. Certainly not the first to mine this sound as of late, but the tunes speak for themselves, and this is an unexpected killer start to finish, like TANK for the 21st century.
This is heavy. The intro track made me think of SONIC’S RENDEZVOUS BAND. Not surprisingly, they are from Australia. This is pure rock’n’roll. Apparently, they get glommed into the swamp rock / SCIENTISTS scene, but there are enough nods to BIRDMAN and the SAINTS (hello horn section) here, that seems like selling ’em short. Great record, hope they come to the USA! Guess I need to track down their first album now…
Three things are critical to enjoying this album: you must love (like love) I Don’t Want to Grow Up, you must at least strongly enjoy How to Make Enemies and Irritate People, and you must be open minded to accepting new melodic pop punk bands into your life. These three Peruvians living in the US create pogo pop that’s just and fun as it is standard, and the path of this record is well-worn by many RAMONES-obsessed kids before them. But you can’t deny this is a fun record. The songs are great, and if your heart still flutters at the mention of ’90s Lookout!, you’ll be dancing to this!
Tank Girl-style caricatures of the band adorn this sugary coated steamer of a gatefold 10″ EP. Songs about their hometown, girls, etc., and it’s completely paint-by-numbers. By what they have written about themselves, I think that they think they sound like the RAMONES, and justify this cavity-creating creeper by claiming that they are in search of the perfect pop song. An honest high point that I didn’t expect to enjoy in a million years were the tight, quirky synth parts that seem to come from out of nowhere and don’t belong within five kilometers of this record. Low-energy, brainless pop.
Tough guy metallic hardcore from Toronto with kind of “humorous” lyrics at times. Aggressive singing that sounds like it was raised on a diet of alternative rock radio.
In an era when most DIY bands can barely exist longer than a single album and tour, it’s actually quite special to see a band like ARCTIC FLOWERS put out their third full-length album. More specifically, a self-released third full-length! After nearly a decade of existence, these Northwestern punks are still killing it! This album brings us more of the dark and catchy WIPERS-influenced punk rawk we’ve come to expect. As with the more recent recordings, some will almost find it jarring that the vocals are actually sung (as opposed to screamed, barked, or grunted) into the mic. Alex is an awesome singer and doesn’t try to hide it, which sometimes doesn’t blend well with raging punk. But with ARCTIC FLOWERS, it works perfectly. This album destroys! My one criticism is that the insert seems like a rushed afterthought. But when that’s the worst part of your record, you’re doing something right. Do yourself a favor and find this record.
This Swiss band comes across as a straight-up pop punk band. The music is peppy and upbeat, and the singer has one of those high-pitched, slightly annoying sounding voices. Instead of some sappy, lovelorn lyrics, that voice sings tales of some twisted things. The song titles don’t reveal too much, so you’re caught by surprise by these offbeat words. Nice.
Wow, someone’s hangry. I read on the internet that ANEURYSM is a post-hardcore noise rock band from Boston. Indeed, that is what this sounds like. Very anthemic and upset, party rock for the post-hardcore set. This would probably sound better if I was on PCP.
