Well here's the deal: It's been an extremely slow week releases-wise, nothing much happening that i'm particularly anxious to wax about here so i'm just gonna STFU and take a fucking break to resume regular operation next weekend which already looks way more promising, okay?
As a worthy substitute you might wanna check out and consider supporting (or, quite seriously, bartering with) Evan Minsker's brilliant new-ish blog/newsletter SeeSaw, a rare and excellent new voice in the otherwise pretty decimated punk blogosphere. You might remember the dude from old Pitchfork days and in particular the long-defunct garage punk column Shake Appeal, to which SeeSaw is kind of a successor.
Until then if anyone's asking, tell them i'm out fishing.
This spectacular new split LP finally brings us new material of two Los Angeles Groups - both of 'em stubbornly refusing to conform to the established rules and conventions of hardcore punk - after a couple years lacking any "proper" release from both groups.
Rolex come across as powerful as ever in their unpredictable and inventive-as-fuck postcore attacks which on one hand contain echoes of a couple of fairly recent acts like Mystic Inane, Big Bopper, Brandy, Launcher and early Patti, while also being moderately indebted to the likes of Minutemen, Dicks and early Saccharine Trust (whose first LP Surviving You, Always is in desperate need for a reissue goddammit… a criminally overlooked classic of early postcore, years ahead of the curve if you ask me). Add to that occasional flashes of cowpunk, infused with some Lumpy & The Dumpers-style mayhem channeled into an off-the-rails vocal performance and the result is pure weirdcore bliss, leaving no doubt they remain the rightful rulers of their particular subgenre for now.
Grimly Forming's side then mounts a way rougher, yet no less smart and unconventional attack on the senses, counterbalancing unrelenting force with plenty of elaborate structures to build on and a healthy dose of garage-y undercurrent to keep things going smooth and fun all the way through.
The newest LP of Brazil's prime purveyor of quirky, hyperactive garage-/synth-/eggpunk goodness certainly takes a gamble or two, being full of collaborations with other egg-minded acts all across the globe… or the cosmos, if you wanna roll with the concept and i'm sure the likes of Tombeau, Billiam and Goblin Daycare don't need any introduction, right? I mean, right? Not everything works here (especially the funky R'n'B stylings of She's Kinda Cute and OMG They Look So Bad just strike me as ill-considered speed bumps, interrupting the record's otherwise considerable momentum) but most things certainly do and where the record hits the mark, it hits hard, at times approaching the level of anything-goes chaos and eclecticism of Trashdog or Checkpoint. And after all, i very much prefer a record that tries boldly and fails in some places over one that's not even bothering.
File under: Poison Ruïn and their aftermath… Unsheather from Bellingham, Washington tackle the aesthetics of endless struggle facilitated by heavy armor and weaponry from much more of a raw hardcore angle - less epic and way more primitive and unpolished, which is probably a good strategic starting point anyway in this still kinda early phase of the ongoing dungeon punk saga as the eleborate atmospheric epics of genre's supreme overlords will sure take a good while to find a worthy challenger. Until then, i'm glad to savor any bit of grim, medieval-themed axe-wielding fun along the way and Unsheather are an excellent choice for that!
Two of the - so far at least - minor players in the current eggpunk game join forces and make a convincing case for a re-evaluation of that status as both, while not exactly reinventing the wheel here, have cleary refined their formulas quite a bit on this neat little split cassette. SPRGRS of Granada, Spain make for a great start with their quirky, pulsating and melodic take on the genre much in line with what we've heard recently from groups like Prison Affair, Beer, Paulo Vicious and Goblin Daycare. Even better though are the three new tracks by Bristol's Möney, who show some great variety and top-notch songwriting chops here, overall saturating their sound with more of a surf-y and psychedelic post punk vibe, most notably in the closing track Emancipation which calls to mind the likes of Electric Prawns 2, Checkpoint, Gremlin and Powerplant. Then again, Plastic Trees is a surprising little gem made up of glistening noise-/power-/dreampop stylings and really given a special shine by a guest vocal performance credited to a mysterious Miss Clienty.
This Nottingham, UK group's debut EP feels pleasantly out of place to me in the current scene, channeling a number of currents of the mid-eighties to early nineties punk and alternative rock era. Most strikingly i'm reminded of Mega City Four with further bits and pieces of, say, Moving Targets, later Naked Raygun and even some traces of middle-period Hüsker Dü to be found in there, all of it anchored by some rock solid songcraft underneath. In addition, you might as well compare this stuff to a bunch of the previous decade's acts such as Pale Angels, Milk Music, Geronimo, Milked and California X.
Here we've got yet another excellent burst of garage- and synth punk by yet another Melbourne group that, despite some shared sonic parameters, hits just a good bit harder than your average quirky eggpunk act. Rather, i'm reminded of the likes of Quitter, Beef, Busted Head Racket and Broken Prayer plus, at some points, that ever-present Djinn/Zhoop/Nightman/Brundle/RONi, etc dude.
This Los Angeles group confidently kicks up an absolutely respectable fuzz utilizing rather modest means. These five rippers sound a bit like what i'd imagine it would be like if you infused a more dumbed-down variant of the earthy and noisy post-/garage punk hybrids of The Cowboy or Flat Worms with a good deal of Gun Club- and Feedtime-esque blues- and cowpunk. The result, as you might've figured already, doesn't add anything new to the mix but still manages the hit the sweet spot every single time.
