Hardcore punk from Oslo, Norway that sticks out with some rough garage edge to their certainly simple and straightforward, yet undoubtedly elegant and well-balanced punk attacks and the undiluted fury transported by a thoroughly caffeinated frontwoman. All in all, this shit hits me kinda like a more stripped-down, fast-and-loose playing variant of swedish heavy hitters Vidro, fused with a generous dose of Judy and the Jerks.
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Now this was kinda unexpected. This group from Cleveland, Ohio sharing members with Cruelster, Knowso and Perverts Again had released their previous EP in August 2013, just a couple months before this very blog came into existence. So now here's their third 7" picking things up pretty much where they left them over ten years ago, serving us five new examples of those straightforward catchy garage punk esplosions that, of the groups mentioned previously, probably bear the closest resemblance to the no-frills sonic attack of Cruelster.
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What started out as a duo fronted by Corey Plumb of Spray Paint fame has now grown into a fully fledged band lineup and accordingly, this new LP marks a further step towards a more airy and organic sound aesthetic for the group, which at this point also sounds the most reminiscent so far of his previous Spray Paint work, especially of their later, heavily electronic-leaning phase. That said, this is far from being a lazy retread of times past, as his trademark dissonant guitar work on here blends in a uniquely natural way with a plethora of pulsating sound both organic and electronic, which on one hand have a distinctly industrial feel to them while quite paradoxically retaining a surprisingly playful and warm quality throughout.
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Furious anarcho punk from London that refuses to be neatly filed away in a single genre crate, which is always the most thrilling kind of punk shit anyway. Recorded at New York's D4MT Labs, this does indeed share some of the hallmarks of that particular place's most well known export Kaleidoscope and, to a lesser extent, Straw Man Army, while also exposing some overtones of the wider left-field ambitious hardcore spectrum with the likes of early Bad Breeding, Acrylics and Daydream being some of the names coming to mind at first glance.
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An effortlessly ass-kicking debut EP from an Oslo, Norway group that runs the gamut from the buzzsaw hardcore punk of the opening track Ritalinbjørner to breakneck-speed fuzzed-out garage punk in Laserkrieg, having some similar energy to, say, The Gobs, Kid Chrome and S.B.F.. Stygg Bebi then has some distinct dungeon-esque eggpunk-meets-deathrock vibe reminiscent of stuff like Powerplant, Kerozine or fellow norwegians Molbo. The latter tendency then culminates in the closing track Shament, a catchy anthem built from pure goth-y post punk ear candy leading up to a somewhat black metal-ish conclusion. Fuck me this is some strong shit!
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Not kidding, this is some honest to god oi! shit right there yet this stuff also couldn't be more far removed from what you'd normally expect out of the genre, also marking a sharp departure from this Los Angeles group's (rather unremarkable, if you ask me) earlier output. Rather, this record strikes me as another welcome addition to the small but growing canon of the emerging dungeon punk bubble, kinda like what a simplified Poison Ruïn might sound like if they dialed down the post punk and went all-in on the oi! elements. Add to that a singer who seems to channel some sort of alternate-reality true metal Frankie Stubbs clone and what you get is a new favorite batch of tunes for crushing the world's injustuces with righteous anger and primitive, blunt weaponry.
The second EP of this Atlantic Beach, Florida group delights with a wholly infatuating make of simple, compact and catchy garage- and fuzz punk goodness that actually comes with some unexpectedly varied collection of vibes, at one point or another channeling qualities you might associate with groups such as Satanic Togas, New Berlin, Buck Biloxi, Set-Top Box, Spits, Die TV or Penance Hall.
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Following an intoxicatingly strong debut EP last summer, the follow-up by french psychedelic rock wizard Remy Pablo delivers more of that same overwhelming goodness stubbornly executing its very own notion of pulsating loops and blown-out drones at the intersections of psych- and space rock, post-, art-, proto- and garage punk with more than just a little of an MX-80-, Chrome- and Métal Urbain vibe to it.
A magnificent debut single by a nebulous group from nowhere serves up two undeniably tasty synth punk anthems reminiscent as much of the 2000s indie rock era (as in: Remember when Pitchfork was a thing?) as of more recent phenomena in the Cherry Cheeks, Ope or Smirk vein, with a frosting of Digital Leather-esque flavors on top. What's not to like about that?
Even in the face of pretty much anything that loose collective of musicians gathered around the New York label Decoherence Records has done so far, Gay Cum Daddies still stuck out as one of its most baffling agents of chaos and mischief. In a way, their newest LP is almost what you'd expect of this group at this point, an unwieldy bastard made of atonal and chaotic, no-wave-ish noise that, despite all the clutter and cacophony, never seems random. More than ever before, i get a sense of this group being totally in control of their craft at all times, their nerve-racking jams never leaving a trace of doubt that these dudes do indeed have a master plan. A weird, convoluted and disjointed one for sure, but a plan nonetheless. Once you've re-wired your brain to almost make sense of it, it feels like the most transgressive and shocking thing ever when Ribboning Boulder Hands Over Data actually has a discernible 4/4 beat playing for, like, a whole 30 seconds.
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