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Please send vinyl (preferred), CD, or cassette releases to MRR, PO Box 3852, Oakland, CA 94609, USA. Maximum Rocknroll wants to review everything that comes out in the world of underground punk rock, hardcore, garage, post-punk, thrash, etc.—no major labels or labels exclusively distributed by major-owned distributors, no reviews of test pressings or promo CDs without final artwork. Please include contact information and let us know where your band is from!
Third full-length LP from Berlin trio TOP DOWN, who clamor out effortless garage punk with anthemic choruses, my favorite being “Broken Hearts.” They play scratchy guitar riffs, steady-as-ever drum and bass, and seemingly lazy, yet perfectly placed, vocals that groan and crack, reminiscent of Fred Cole. Would highly recommend this for fans of that desperate, lo-fi garage sound.
Not to be confused with the great Spanish band ULTRA, this Oakland crew rips through four sinister, crushing hardcore stompers in about as many minutes. Pummeling, no-frills, no-fills brutality with relentless drums and vocal-cord shredding, all bookended by bleeding shards of feedback. This is fighting music, and I would cross the street if I saw this tape coming my way. Every track is strong, but let’s take the lyrics to “One and the Same”: “Problem made flesh / Each breath a regret / Wake up, same shit / Life counterfeit.” Nihilism you can smash your head on. Featuring members from WORLD PEACE and FENTANYL, and for fans of mean-ass punk like VACCINE and CITY HUNTER.
Canton, Michigan, 1996: three fifth-grade boys (we’re talking ten/eleven-year-olds!) buzzed on the likes of NIRVANA, R.E.M., and the KINKS form a jangly, lo-fi garage pop band called VISUAL PURPLE, play a handful of shows of the D.A.R.E. graduation ceremony/school talent show variety, and get one of their dads to record their original songs to four-track; things were all over before anyone hit teenagehood. I was also a fifth-grade alternatween in 1996, so the wild backstory immediately drew me in (and with no small amount of awe, as the “bands” I was starting with my friends at the same time only ever existed as concepts), but VISUAL PURPLE wasn’t some sort of kiddie-punk novelty act, and the six songs on this cassette could have just as likely been the handiwork any number of indie rockers of legal drinking age who were putting out fuzzed-out, ramshackle home recordings on labels like Siltbreeze and Shrimper at the height of the Clinton era—GUIDED BY VOICES, STRAPPING FIELDHANDS, SEBADOH, etc. Think of a Midwestern counterpart to Australia’s contemporaneous teen scenesters NOISE ADDICT (for the two or three people out there who will pick up on that reference), except even younger and (thankfully) minus any songs about Evan Dando. The kids were alright!
The title might not say much, but Vol. 2 is a stunning 1985 collection of punk, primitive hardcore, and pure energy rock’n’roll from more than a dozen different bands from Peru. Legendary acts like EUTANASIA and PANICO share space with the stark, otherworldly delivery of EXCOMULGADOS, the inept shit-fi chaos of CONFLITO SOCIAL, and FRENTE NEGRO’s ferocious pogo. There are more favorites to be sure (ERUCTO MALDONADO and SOCIEDAD DE MIERDA, for example), but every minute of this disc is essential listening that highlights how totally varied and diverse the punk scene was in Peru. Contents: tape hiss, ultra-raw recordings, ramshackle punk, booklet with lyrics and info solo en español…what more could you ask for? My only complaint is that I’m never going to find an original copy of the tape.
AKT brought together four women from Brazil’s mid-to-late ’80s underground scene (Sandra Coutinho from the legendary MERCENÁRIAS, Dequinha Camargo of minimal wave act BRUHAHÁ BABÉLICO, Karla Xavier from experimental electronic post-punks R. MUTT, and Biba Meira, drummer for genre-bending rockers DEFALLA) who were all interested in exploring more improvised and less rock-oriented approaches to music-making with the German avant-garde serving as a primary touchstone, from tranced-out Krautrock rhythms to industrial/electronic-minded Neue Deutsche Welle groups like MALARIA! The numbering of the band’s name actually changed through key phases in their brief existence—AKT 1 for their first live shows in 1990, AKT 2 later that year when they recorded the six tracks collected on Frauen-Feuer (only two of which have been previously released, on a 1991 Brazilian comp LP), and now AKT 3 for this 2022 archival resurrection. “Habits” pairs deep post-punk bass throb with English lyrics lifted from Ezra Pound and samples of howling dogs, and “Wir Haben” (with foreboding, theatrical vocals in German, natch) runs the acute-angled rhythms of CARAMBOLAGE through a dense fog of processed electronics, while the lurching low-end, spin-cycle drumming, and disorienting synth textures of “Prince No Deserto Vermelho” (sung in their native Portuguese) is totally no wave via NEUBATEN. That cold-stare intensity lets up on the instrumentals “Carrossel” and “Os Sufis Dançam,” although the unsettled Metropolis-worthy atmosphere remains, which makes the almost conventional post-new wave pop lilt of “He is Happy” AKT’s sharpest turn of all. History exists to be rewritten.
A solo artist from Madison, WI, BABY TYLER’s got some real songwriting chops. Apparently this guy does a whole acoustic thing in addition to the punk bile found on this cassette, which isn’t hard to imagine when you focus in on the thoughtful composition of these ten tracks. The songs have depth and complexity that will really draw you in if you let them. I didn’t, mostly, but in an ocean of so-so modern acts, BABY TYLER bobs above the surface.
This is the type of lo-fi garage rock that inspires spontaneous acts of violence. You will be hard-pressed to find a more crusty, rough-around-the-edges, intensely in-your-face record. On the A-side, SHITBOTS bring two absolutely flaming tracks with all the audio quality of an old CD that’s been burnt in the toaster. On the B-side, CEO brings a much more reigned-in sound. Of the three tracks CEO provides, the majority are led by acoustic guitars, incorporating elements of country and blues.
COAX from Russia plays that heavy modern hardcore, feeding us foreboding riffs played tightly with a sense of urgency and a touch of dystopian angst. This one slides into the same category as S.H.I.T. and FAZE, but with a subtle element of grooviness packed into the sound. Every word of the lyrics is laced with hate, and I’d love to get the singer a glass of tea with some honey after all that rough hollerin’.
There’s something about this band that reminds me of a lot of different bands, but the weird thing is that none of the bands that they remind me of play the same style—that makes me super curious about them. They really make me wanna be on a roadtrip listening to them with my friends. I really liked this album, ‘cause every song leaves you with a different feeling, and I also think the vocals bring something really special to the songs.
Hardcore D-beat fury from Asheville, NC, DSHK orates from the bellows of the publicly squalored and community denied. This is a project born out of the frustrations and confusion of the pandemic, where tensions in the United States are at a boiling point, and it shows. Five tracks of inspired hate for fucking pigs, patronizing politicians, and even pointing a finger at pacifism in general and its inherent snail’s pace. No offense to snails. But fuck all cops. Anyway, DSHK puts their pennies where their mouth is too, donating a generous percentage to mutual aid groups in NC with every tape sold. Also contains one HERÄTYS cover, and it’s a great one. This is a two-piece, covering guitar/vocals and drums/bass/vocals, who come across as dueling punk twins. The execution levels are similar, but they echo and support one another. Production-wise, I am reminded of CALLOUSED on the rhythm and percussion side and HOLY MOUNTAIN on the lead and vocal side, but significantly grittier. A nasty sting of a demo. Check it out.
Smart and snappy art-punk out of London featuring members of TEN-O-SEVENS and THEE SPIVS. “Are You There God, It’s Me” is a piece of catchy mid-tempo power-pop-punk beholden to groups like ADAM AND THE ANTS and the MONOCHROME SET, while the B-side “Meantime” is more angular, with some delicious GANG OF FOUR-style slicing guitar. As their first single it shows promise, but it doesn’t do quite enough to set the EEL MEN apart from the current crop of clever UK post-punk guitar groups. That being said, I’m excited to see what they do next and if they incorporate a bit more of that nervous energy heard here on the B-side.
Well goddammit, if the title doesn’t say everything that needs to be said. Seriously though, this is awful. Like, I’m not even trying to be mean. It’s just bad. Like a bar band covering BLINK after multiple shots, bad.
With members of top-shelf ’80s and ’90s hardcore bands like DEVOID OF FAITH, CITIZENS ARREST, and DOWN IN FLAMES, FRIGHT drops six tracks of tight, East Coast-style hardcore streaked with old-school thrash and speed metal. The music is tight, relentless, and mosh-worthy. The vocals could have used more grit and gravel, but the riffs are delicious candy, like something blasting from a mixtape in my ’86 Buick back in the day. Lyrically, it’s fairly standard metal fare in the style of NUCLEAR ASSAULT—despair, corruption, decay, depression. An example is the track “Obliterated Ruin” with the lines “Castrated by repressive state / Organisms breed and cry / Basking in desperation / Lacking strength to arise.” Maybe they don’t tell a coherent story, but they fit with the overall vibe perfectly. This is FRIGHT’s first release and hopefully not their last.
A well-deserved and long overdue reissue for an essential piece of early 1990s East Bay (by way of New Mexico) punk. You hear the term “melodic hardcore” refer to drivel that is neither, but GRIMPLE is undoubtedly both. The riffs are hopelessly addictive, but they are delivered with relentless ferocity while you find yourself singing along with vocals that sound like they are coughing up razor blades. The lyrics are honest and often dark, but the whole record is bursting with hope, determination and youthful possibility—“Behind a locked door I’m not trapped, I don’t want out / To put things in their places, I put myself here,” followed immediately by “I don’t see it so it isn’t there, the real truth is that I don’t fucking care / I close my eyes it’s an easy choice, fuk that bullshit, I want a voice!” Songs like “Violent Fuk” and “Problem” are uncompromising and full of fire, while “Think” throws dark chords under the rest of the mix and makes you feel queasy (when you listen at the appropriate volume). “But If You Weren’t Here” is an anthem for literally any punk who grew up (mostly) alone and exemplifies how tight GRIMPLE was as a band and a unit. Drop the needle on Up Your Ass and you can just feel that it was them against the fucking world…my only complaint is that it’s weird to hear these songs with out the pops and scuffs and crackles I’ve been adding to my copy for the last 30 years. I can fix that, though.
My introduction to RICHARD HAMILTON was as RICKY HELL AND THE VOIDBOYS. I’m 100% in favor of giving the elders of punk a hard time. I was amused, then I was fascinated. Only the name seemed joke-y. On this cassette, RICHARD HAMILTON delivers introspective, indie pop songs. Like seemingly the majority of recordings made in these pandemic times, Memory Palace is a one-man-band affair with HAMILTON handling every aspect of it. It gives me ’80s flashbacks with a bit of Madchester stylings thrown in. The result is a sweet and melancholy collection of songs with great lyrics. It’s catchy from the onset. The highlights are “Happy Go Lucky,” “South of France” (I’m a sucker for any song that mentions specific places in San Francisco) and “Traffic on the 5.” This is a great cassette.
These well-aged garage-sters are back with lots of hooks and good-time blah blah…all live in the city of Dahmer. Reminds me a lot of that good DEVIL DOGS album (the live one). To quote the late Bobby Soxx, “Fuck power pop, fuck new wave, this is punk rock, you’re a slave.”
A nifty single of power pop that’s truly powerful. Justin Maurer, whom I mostly know from Oakland’s CLOROX GIRLS, understands how to get the most bang for a buck when playing jangling guitar pop. In true contrarian fashion, the B-side here is what really grabs me. “Kids of Today” runs the gamut of pleasure, from great use of discordance and resolution in the main lick to the palm-muted chug and ringing out triumph back-and-forth that makes up the meat of the track. It’s anthemic in a way that actually pays off its title. The single is great too, with luscious keys and a head-bobbing swing that puts a smile on your face. What’s not to like here?
Magnificent reissue of KARNE KRUA’s 1991 demo that you didn’t know you needed…until you hear it. Raw and gruff Brasilian hardcore/thrash from the Northeastern city Aracaju, KARNE KRUA plays from the RDP/LOBOTOMIA school, then injects wild, piercing solos and a vocal delivery that embodies sinister but addictive hardcore. While the recording on Suicidio is primitive, the delivery of these eight tracks is devastating, relentless, and the past thirty years has only served to make the recording sound even more intense. This is a reissue done right, with notes (em Português, claro) and photos from the original K7 release. Awesome.
Spanning an entire decade from 2005–2015, this is the complete discography of Spanish avant-garde experimental art/noise project LA GRIETA. Presented with very cool-looking minimalist artwork in a dual-cassette case on bright yellow and pink cassettes, with a huge write-up in Spanish about the history of the project. It all looks very cool, and for fans of this band or this style, I imagine this to be an absolute delight. As an introduction to the band, I found it to be a lot to attempt to digest, especially with its lack of form. I recognize that is the style that is being sought, but listening to two straight hours of long, loosely knitted-together, seemingly improvised sloppy “songs” featuring squealing feedback, blip-bloops of unknown origin, horns, melodica, and even snoring has it all feeling like jazz to me. I am absolutely craving something easy on the ears.
Hardcore skate punk that wouldn’t be out of place on Fat Wreck. Overall, it’s pretty good. Lyrics are a bit political-leaning as opposed to your common skate punk band and that’s OK. The singer’s voice took a bit to get into, it’s a weird mix of Trevor from FACE TO FACE, Davey Havok, and screaming. Not bad once you actually get into it. There’s a definite AFI vibe to the “whoa-oh” parts, for sure. All in all, not a bad outing.
On this debut 7″ EP, Boston’s MOVE BHC delivers some bone-breaking heavy hardcore/beatdown with overtly political lyrical content, with heavy emphasis on Black struggle. No thrills or smiles here, just totally righteous indignation. These eleven minutes contain several truly powerful moments, such as the intro to “Righteous Unrest.” Recommended to all those searching for some broader nuance in their windmilling music.
NICFIT does lots of things right on this debut LP. In the grand tradition of many a punk band from Japan, NICFIT plays havoc with genre, executing hairpin turns where most would end up in the weeds. On these tracks, post-punk rhythms ride surf guitar riffs into noise rock pummel. Hell, “Rigged” opens with a snippet of CECIL TAYLOR-esque piano sputter. Oddly enough, NICFIT often resembles underappreciated mid-2000s band KAITO UK, which gets two thumbs up from these two hands.
A super fun and dance-y record—the voice, the music, the lyrics, everything about this band makes me wanna start dancing and jumping. I just love when punks make music like this, because we don’t hear stuff like this really often. I can’t decide what song is my favourite one, because they really, really have a super interesting formula in all of them. “Dale Dale” is maybe the one that surprised me the most, because it’s so fucking good and it has some Spanish lines, so I obviously get excited about that. Also “Sue Me,” it’s fucking fire, the changes in the drums are crazy and the chorus sounds really retro, it’s amazing. Definitely a band to check out, so different from what most punk bands are playing these days, absolutely love it.
The name of this band along with the title of this LP made me expect some kind of caveman-themed metal band. Instead, this Melbourne foursome (featuring members of DRUG SWEAT, OOGA BOOGAS, and VOICE IMITATOR) delivers a relaxed and sunny brand of garage rock that never takes itself too seriously. Singer Leon Stackpole sounds effortlessly laid-back, while Mikey Young’s guitar work is impressive without being showy. While some songs are straightforward rockers (“Land of the Fire,” “Conservative Instincts“), they also get to stretch out into some more experimental territory on “Infinity and 90” and “Swimming in a Bathful of Ghosts.” It’s all exceedingly pleasant and playful while never being dull. I’m reminded of Rotterdam’s LEWSBERG and fellow Australians THIGH MASTER. A fantastic debut.
There’s a place between LEATHERFACE and AMERICAN STEEL (post-the Rouge’s March album) where this band lies. The great, angularly harsh guitar work is reminiscent of 1997 HOT WATER MUSIC before their infamous Hard Rock Cafe breakup, and the lyrics haunt with the emotional despair and angst of WEDDING PRESENT’s David Gedge. This is their sophomore release on the infallible Salinas Records and fits in with the more raw and rock part of their discography. I didn’t know what a “quaker wedding” was when I was assigned this review. But the week after, I caught one of JAWBREKER’s shows for the 25th anniversary of Dear You and then watched the documentary Don’t Break Down about the history of the band. At the end of the film Blake Schwarzenbach makes a comment that during the meeting when the band broke up, it felt like a quaker wedding where “you just sit there but there’s a lot of weight in the room.” Here the weight is authentically well-defined and felt.
Cool tape with two long tracks from this Israel-based solo project that opens with a great GOBLIN-style synth dirge, all digital bells and deep, bubbling atmosphere. Then it gets really weird, with a truly unique vocal approach that sounds unlike anything I have heard before. The closest thing I can compare the down-tuned, altered vocals is maybe DJ SCREW’s productions, but imagine that over snaky post-punk/indie guitars and electronic drums. It sounds like a Speak & Spell left between melted JOY DIVISION and SONIC YOUTH tapes. There are many great, chiming call-and-response guitar lines that are both dissonant and shimmering with beauty. While disconcerting at first, I found this very listenable and interesting all the way through. Recommended.
SIDE EFFECT plays their punk by the numbers with power chords, great little earworms, and snarled, raspy vocals. All throughout they capably add additional melodies, briefly quiet down and ramp back up again. This record is short and sweet. Its catchy and shambolic style brings to mind the OBSERVERS.
Hardcore punk that has something for everyone. A little bit of metal-tinged guitars here, some RANCID-esque bass lines there, some breakdown parts, a dash of street punk, and mildly distorted vocals. S.M.I.L.E. is one of those bands that would appeal to all sorts, while simultaneously being an acquired taste to others. Definitely worth a listen, or three.
Martin Meyer is arguably one of the primary architects responsible for our contemporary punk landscape. For better or worse, I don’t know that we end up with the chain/egg punk dichotomy without LUMPY AND THE DUMPERS and their gooey aesthetic, or his label Lumpy Records and their “Feelin’ Eggy?” promo emails (not to mention, Lumpy put out records by most of the bands originally labeled “egg-punk”). That aside, I’m also just a huge fan of the dude’s work. So, it came as quite a shock to just learn that he’s been making music under the SOUP ACTIVISTS name for the past two years, and this eleven-song cassette is his second release. Now, I go in blind when it comes to projects I’m unfamiliar with, so I had no idea who this was on my first listen. But my initial reaction was “Why did MRR give me this? It sounds like…SICKO or some shit!” To be fair, I think I was primarily picking up on the earnestness of the music—as I sat with it longer, I could tell there was actually a lot more going on. Still, my primary point of comparison, at least on those first few tracks, would be something like the ramshackle pop punk of early FIFTEEN. Later tracks maybe feature more of the lo-fi jangle/strained tunefulness you’d find in an Eric Gaffney-sung SEBADOH track or some polish-free pop akin to, say, a DOLLY MIXTURE. Now that I know who’s behind the music, I can’t not hear that this is a Marty joint. But it would be hard to overstate how blown away I was to find that out. I’m still not sure that I really love the music here, but I have certainly loved the time I’ve spent so far trying to figure that out.
Melodic hardcore quartet SUNDOWN, of Indianapolis, presents their debut LP. With every member contributing to vocals, you get a variety of leads from song to song, the best of which I think is the tremendous, metal-tinged screams of the opener “Don’t Ask Me” that lights a fire for its successors. Their self-described influences of HOT WATER MUSIC and AVAIL can definitely be heard throughout: heavy riffs, clever lead guitar turnarounds, shouts and howls that cede to emo-styled melodies. Think of a grittier ALKALINE TRIO. If this strikes your nostalgic fancy, this fast and technical record will keep you on your toes.
Oh hell yes—this is what I needed!! Early primitive heavy metal vibes on “His Demise,” brooding ethereal indie on “Where It Started…,” and pounding deathrock on “The Changeling” (there are three more tracks, but you see where I’m going here). The guitar has a lo-fi “plugged straight into the board because I didn’t know else to record” power that is so fucking impossible to fake, you just nail it or it sucks, and SWATH OF… nails it like few bands I’ve ever heard. Vocals are haunting throughout, they just soar and they shadow everything else in the mix. Lament is a benefit for the Black Trans Travel Project, which only further seals the deal for me—New Jersey fucking delivers.
Somewhere I read that to repress libidinal energy is to repress the genius of creativity. TOTAL NADA, with this debut EP, seeks to do precisely the opposite. They build, with just six awesome tracks, a space of liberation for those libidinal energies to emerge and birth autonomy and personal expression. The band is from Canada, with a Colombian vocalist singing in Spanish, and a sound where the different axes of the global hardcore cartography converge. One senses the brutalist monotone of RUDIMENTARY PENI but also the manic aggression of South American hardcore of the late ’80s and early ’90s and the overwhelming force of the best Italian punk. It’s gorgeous, it’s fun, it’s sweaty, and above all, it’s brilliant. It is the light that guides us out of the ideological labyrinth in which we live.
Fast and angry debut from Florida’s WALLED CITY. The instrumentation comes off like melodic hardcore á la DEATH BY STEREO, whereas the vocals and lyrical content sound like the recent (and only) ENACT release. I think “Broken Windows” hits the hardest, and is a good taster for the EP. Have a listen and get pissed.
I’m not sure if I’m the right person to be reviewing this; it kinda feels like I got some spiky punk’s mail by accident. This is a reissue of a French hardcore comp from 1985, and its essentially nine bands of the UK82/DISCHARGE type but en français—so expect buzzsaw guitar, rubberband bass, and you-know-what drum beats. The recording quality is demo at best, not a lot of power, and with vinyl pressing being such a hard-sought, time-consuming commodity right now, I have to ask if pressing this on LP was necessary? If it was a tape originally, I feel like the diehards for this would’ve been fine with a cassette and a zine, and honestly it would’ve been more true to form for this type of punk. But to be real, I’ve never owned a leather jacket or worn a shoestring ‘round my dome, so perhaps I’m the wrong person to ask about this.
A vinyl reissue of an album that was originally released on CD in 2000. MINORITY BLUES BAND kicks things off with five songs that are firmly rooted in punk but have underlying emo tendencies, with songs sung in English and their native Japanese. At times there’s a heavy CAP’N JAZZ vibe, albeit more in-tune and angry with a more controlled chaos. 1000 TRAVELS OF JAWAHARLAL are definitely holding it down with more of the same type of vibe as their comrades, but whereas MINORITY BLUES BAND is a bit more rooted in punk, I’d argue that JAWAHARLAL are screamo to the core. All in all, this is a great split and I for one am a huge fan of the split LP format, so the fact that this finally has seen a vinyl release is perfect.
While the 2020s are still running on ignorant punk stomps, in the mountains of North Carolina there are four people who are determined to keep pushing the epic crust envelope further and further. Stunning, downtuned, apocalyptic D-beat lurches, replete with over-the-top guitar leads and dual vocals that seem all obligatory not because “they’re supposed to do that” but because it all needs to be there. You can feel it. For a band to sound so simultaneously confident and desperate is beyond refreshing, even while the tonnage from these two songs crushes you from the inside. AUTARCH has been in the game for a while, and they sound more important than ever.
When I reviewed the BOMBARDEMENT EP last month, I never saw this monster follow-up LP coming. On Le Futur Est Là, the band simultaneously pays great honor to and transcends traditional DISCHARGE-worship with their sharp and calculated panache. The guitar on this record gets increasingly bonkers as it goes on, soloing us all straight to hell with smiles on our faces. Hailing from the beautiful, wine-drunk city of Bordeaux, BOMBARDEMENT picks up on elements of the sound that most other D-enizens have neglected, such as the pared-down primitive menace and background cacophony of “Poison” and the build-up of chaos on “Predateur.” On top of all this madness, you can hear the singer literally throwing her entire soul into every performance. The best part is, it kinda feels like they’re just getting started. I haven’t been able to stop listening to this. It’s A+ shit, kids. The future is here, indeed.
Fucking great. Classic American-style hardcore with Rollins-esque exhausted vocals hollered over blown-out, fast punk riffs, and non-stop drum attacks. Four songs recorded as one track in under five minutes. First track “Mee Bee” has start/stop, fast beat slam breaks that rule. “Ignite” starts with a creepy-crawl beat and then slows it waaay down to a nasty caveman stomp. I can only imagine how hard the elbows must fly at this part. True broken-nose, pit-crush music. “Wife” has a simple bass riff, driven by tom rolls. It all turns into a furious D-beat rager and doesn’t let up until it’s over. “Pee” finishes out the tape with another fast rager. If this tape came out in 1980, we would all know about it—it’s that good. Check out that cover too—perfect. This is exactly my jam and it comes highly recommended. I’m gonna go listen to it again.
Here’s a band that does the sleaze-rock-meets-heavy-metal sound with some actual flair—not to mention brains. From track one, you know what you’re in for, as whining dog leads and the classic “slam on the piano” riff set the stage for rhythmic pyrotechnics and lead singer Ben Portnoy’s incredibly commanding growl. This band raises hell in a way most rock bands forget how to, and they don’t sound the least bit stale for all their reference (and reverence) to the hazy halls of hallowed rock that came before. Part of what makes the formula so fresh is that there’s clearly more thinking going on than the group might want to let on at first. Take some of the lyrics from ripper “Cecila”: “Volunteer your story to your new chosen friend / Treat it like a rag through the back of your head / Follow suit, dirty the bowl / Dread dripping from your pockets as you power home.” That’s practically out of a novel for my money, and it lends serious pathos to a record that’s more than just a good time (although it is also most certainly that). Unreal record. Stone classic that breathes smoke and pukes fire.
Washington DC’s DEMAND’s demo from last year delivers some super solid hardcore. Very danceable with some nice hints of melody while still keeping it HC to the very core—the type of hardcore that wouldn’t be out of place on the Triple B roster. This debut release demonstrates some real powerful potential for this band and I’m really stoked to see what’s up next—recommended!
Athens, Greece trio leaning heavy into a pop-synth/drum-machine soundscape, only to break the mold with vocals that range from post-punk to new wave dance to weirdo DIE ANTWOORD-esque rapping (see “Φεύγουμε Από Εδώ (Let’s Get Out of Here)” featuring SCI-FI RIVER). In this way, each song is its own oddball trip. The album translates to “Emotional Disease,” and maybe that explains it all.
Novelty Christmas album from Hawaiian-based pop punk band EL SANCHO. Six songs of RAMONES-core pop punk filled with repetitive sing-songy vocals and catchy guitar leads. Pretty entertaining as far as novelty Christmas songs go. “Merry Christmas Joey Ramone” had me coming back for a few extra listens.
Naturally, when you see the name FIX, most of you will probably think of the Detroit hardcore band, and a smaller percentage will wonder why the extra “X” is missing from those new wavers that wrote “One Thing Leads to Another.” You would be wrong on both accounts in this case, and while finding any info on this band was nigh impossible, I wasn’t disappointed by these Germans’ full-throttle garage punk. Every song mows you down with strictly down-strummed, tightly-wound power chord riffs, and the drummer’s wrists must be bionic with all those relentless RAMONES-ian hi-hats. If you love the MARKED MEN template but also sprechen sie Deutsch, then it may behoove you to seek out this record.
This ten-track ripper is for those who love their hardcore old school and in-your-face. Starting with a great stomping track called, appropriately enough, “Intro,” this Oakland, CA two-piece rages fast and hard. Any one of these songs could have been on a seminal hardcore compilation from the mid-’80s, but instead of lyrics bitching about Reagan and Thatcher, GREYHOUND gives you 2020s existential despair, alienation, and personal pain. The only track hinting at anything vaguely political is “Mirroring Constructs,” touching on corporate exploitation and getting caught up in the illusions of status, materialism, and career. GREYHOUND proves that great hardcore doesn’t have to be all politics, all the time. With guest vocals by Trevor McBride (YOUTH IN CRISIS) and Frankie Oh (KANTA KANTA), this is an album to play on repeat.
The HAMILTONES follow up their incredible Dracula Invitational, 1791 LP from last year with a live cassette on Primitive Screwhead, the Big Neck Records live cassette subsidiary label. End of February 2014 in Buffalo, NY: lo-fi nasty instrumental surf rock plays as an absolutely bonkers party rages around. Punkers in Buffalo have had this recurring event for years now, with a beach party taking place in the midst of winter to attempt to stave off the seasonal blues. Heat is cranked, swimwear is donned by all those in attendance, and on this special year, musical guests the HAMILTONES performed live in a jam-packed living room. I happened to be at this party, and I don’t exactly remember things being as debaucherous as fellow attendee Micky Harmon depicted in his artist’s rendering of the evening on a wild-looking four-panel foldout cover for this cassette. Though, the more I think about it and listen to these tunes, the more accurate I think the artwork actually is.
Perfection, that’s the first word that came to my mind after listening to this absolutely killer record. It’s this kind of post-punk that I fucking love, with a lot of changes, weird drums, noise, dance-y, a strong voice—there’s a lot of good stuff happening that I just can’t describe, people just need to listen to this. “4 Segundos” and “Cores” are the tracks that really blow my mind, this will be in my top ten this year, for sure.
Forming from the ashes of SST (band, not label), the JARS were an active, if marginal, player in the early Berkeley punk scene. Their first single (Start Rite Now) was just the fourth release on the now legendary Subterranean label. Despite their links to bands like FLIPPER and DEAD KENNEDYS, the JARS’ brand of self-described “psycho-pop” owes more to ’60s surf and garage than their California punk contemporaries. This archival collection compiles the entirety of their recorded output: a couple of singles alongside several live tracks and unreleased studio recordings. Tracks like “Start Rite Now” and “Teenage Rebellion” are bright, simple pop songs with a zany edge courtesy of a Farfisa organ, while on other tracks, such as “Electric 3rd Rail,” they stretch out into more discomfiting territory. Their ’60s influences are made most obvious by a handful of live instrumental covers of classic TV show themes, as well as a SONICS cover (“Psycho”). It’s a good time. Fans of Bay Area punk history and ROKY ERICKSON’s songs about creatures with atom brains will enjoy the JARS’ good-natured kitschiness.
Bakersfield, California stoner grunge trio—does it make any sense at all that the opener “Prick” comes off like UNSANE through a surf filter? It doesn’t make sense, but it grabbed me and I listened with eager ears as these dudes dished out heavy tunes about getting fucked up and being alive. That surf thing I thought I heard never came back, but instead KEVIN just bashed the shit out of seven pieces of early ’90s heavy sludge.
New Berlin-based label Turbo Discos brings us the debut release from this German outfit, featuring members of LASSIE and EX-WHITE. “Master” kicks off the four-song EP with some hooky downstroke punk. It sounds not unlike early MEAN JEANS, particularly with its lightning-fast rhythm section and booming production. Fortunately that’s where the comparison ends. As soon as I figured out who this reminded me of, some warbly raygun guitars swoop in, the overdubs start getting looser, and a harshly shouted chorus starts up. This ain’t no pop punk! That track ends with its wall-of-sound production crumbling into a C.C.T.V.-ish chicken scratch guitar fadeout. It’s really something! The remainder of the EP is equally as compelling, sounding like a cool mix of contemporary robo-rock (e.g., SET-TOP BOX or RESEARCH REACTOR), the SPITS, and the industrial-tinged garage punk of LILI Z. A real ripper! Handsome cover to boot!
These Australian synth punks may have created the first treaty between the chains and the eggs with this record. Imagine the awkward handshake. You know the chains would squeeze too hard. Quirky synths zig and zag over loud punk guitars, drum machines, and gruff vocals. The shouted, reverbed hardcore vocals are what really set these folks apart from most current synth punk projects—the music is still bouncy, but this is most definitely a punk record. “Levitation” is a jam where the keyboards complement the guitars perfectly into a solid driving, ominous force. “Conflicted Interest” works equally well and reminds me of ANNO OMEGA (who put out one of my favorite releases last year). Good record for bruisers as well as those guys who do somersaults through the pit.
