The debut EP by this Denver, Colorado group executes a strikingly simple formula made up of fairly melodic (and at times quite literal) standard ramones riffs, drowned in layers upon layers of fuzz and distortion and a vocal performance that sounds detached and agitated simultaneously. There’s not a lot that could go wrong here and guess what… nothing does. It’s a kind of fuzzed-out garage minimalism that reminds me of recent artifacts by the likes of Robbie Thunder, Boogie Board and Corpus Earthling and Zoids.
Yup, it’s yet another Gobs EP doing exactly what a Gobs EP is supposed to do. Quirky garage-, fuzz- and synth punk bliss obscured by a thick veil of buzz, noise and perfect Lo-Fi production values, never lacking in terms of catchy hooks and melodies. As i said, it’s the fucking Gobs alright.
I gotta say it’s been an exceptionally fun and joyful ride so far tracking Billiam’s progress gradually morphing from a scrappy-yet-charming eggpunk also-ran into the mighty garage-/synth punk force we know him as today, as he’s only been growing and evolving his sound with every new release, a trend that continues with his newest LP. Not only is this arguably the most densely packed with catchy hooks of all his releases so far, but also the tightest he’s ever sounded with his tunes and arrangements having reached a whole new level of sophistication, elegance and stylistic variety in a relentless nonstop onslaught of viciously contagious earworms.
On his debut LP, Ryan Kidd of Memphis, Tennessee does exactly one thing and he’s getting it absolutely right. That thing is simple and straightforward oldschool garage punk fare smelling strongly of The Spits, Buck Biloxi and early Sick Thoughts, cycling through just enough of the genre’s tropes and iterations to keep things interesting and an undeniable knack for churning out catchy, compact tunes is certainly helping here!
The two preceding digital Singles TV DVD and Frontier Days sure did a great job at making me eager to finally hear the debut EP by this group from… somewhere and it turns out these tracks aren’t even the strongest this record has to offer! Granted, the egg-ish post punk of the former and the psychedelic garage stylings of the latter still very much hold their own but are certainly just a slight notch below the fluffy power-/fuzz pop of Time To Spare, the catchy garage punk propulsion of Funny Feeling and the sparkling, melancholy Lost Sounds-isms of the closing tune Suggestions. Yup, every song on this is a fucking hit.
It’s been a while since we’ve registered any vital signs regarding the canadian garage punk powerhouse from Halifax, Nova Scotia whose previous LP Tube Reducer is already five years in the past. Now Booji Boys never were a band afraid of shaking up their sound at least a little with every new release and this new demo thingy is no exception in that regard, most notable addition here being the distinct use of polyphonic vocals spicing up their trademark mix of garage- and fuzz punk, noise- and power pop which at times imbues these new tunes with some psychedelic sparkle and an almost british invasion-esque aura that comes into full bloom in the crowning achievement of a closing track that is Hotline. Damn, i hope there’s more of that shit coming our way soon!
Following last year’s aptly named titled knockout blow Zen and the Arcade of Beating Your Ass, the newest EP of Minneapolis’ prime generators of sleazy-ass oldschool (garage-) punk detonations that never fail to hit their mark by way of sheer force and solid song foundations sees them dial down die predominant hardcore-era Dü-vs-Raygun energy of that record in exchange for a good measure of Detroit-style proto punk energy and i have absolutely no complaints here ‘cos that shit just works!
The debut EP of this NYC dude is drenched in the weirdest of eccentricities from start to finish and reeks of the more insane branches of early hardcore punk and proto-noise rock á la Flipper and Broken Talent, combined with tons of random early eighties cassette culture artifacts from that age of untamed creativity that just didn’t give a fuck ‘cos few people were listening anyway. Also at play here is some sort of cowpunk vibe most notably in the double attack of The Carnal Boogie and No Singing No Dancing, some bananas flashes of rockabilly and ’50s bubblegum pop in The Night Is Here and Four Kinds Of Lonely. This shit is off the rails and it’s a beauty to behold.
So much pure oldschool power pop excellence is to be found on this latest EP by some York, UK group that balances rock-solid songwriting chops and well-tempered, graceful arrangements with just the right amount of crunch and propulsion to keep things rolling ahead smoothly. What would amount to a recipe for boredom at worst or an instance of pleasant background noise at best in the hands of a lesser group easily transcends the mediocre standards of this ubiquitous genre here, impressively showcasing how you can still make that really old trick work if you know a thing or two about crafting a catchy tune, give it some loving polish and mind the details.
This Rome group or project already has a whole bunch of notable EPs and split releases under their belt, all of them quite good and falling easily under the contemporary eggpunk umbrella. This time though, they go for a way rougher, minimalist shade of Lo-Fi aesthetics in these three new bursts of absolutely filthy fuzz punk which seamlessly transport their proven power pop sensibilities into a new direction that echoes the likes of early Wavves and No Age combined with plenty of raw Detroit-style garage artifacts of all eras.
