Snarewaves' discography can feel kinda confusing and overwhelming with tons of releases so far that may suddenly appear and then disappear again at any given time, have tracks added to or trimmed off them and most recently there's also been that throughline of "haven't i heard this song before" and "is this just a reissue or a re-recording?". So yeah, that kind of situation is often the point where i choose to temporarily check out of the whole thing and take a step back while waiting for something more definitive and permanent to emerge out of it. Here we have just that kind thing in the form of a new EP via the reliable purveyor of maybe a bit too boldly premium-priced egg-ish punk quality, Nashville-based tape label Knuckles On Stun - an artifact that will probably just stay the way it is this time. Some of these tunes you may have heard before in one form or another too, but does that even matter at this point? It's good shit as usual and i still don't know of any other band that sounds even remotely like Snarewaves.
Here are two new kickass artifacts of egg-ish garage punk delight. The first one is by Triple Ente of Alicante, Spain. It would be pure understatement to say the spanish scene has become an indispensible force in that whole genre clusterfuck and Triple Ente have been taking part in that from early on. So they don't need to prove anything by now but nonetheless they won't half-ass a thing on their newest LP, which delivers 14 new smashers of a heavier garage punk-leaning variety that already feels pleasantly oldschool by now in the eggpunk context, more reminiscent of the genre's early wild west days.
Relatively new in the game then are Philadelphia group Dasgüt who at times lean into an even more oldschool-ish garage punk energy like in the heavily Gun Club-esque opening tune Dasgüt, before more of the expected eggpunk insanity kicks in with tons of weird ideas and irresistable hooks strewn all throughout this record. Like that Triple Ente record, this one avoids some of the genre's most pervasive clichés by staying 100% free of synths, electronics or pronounced lo-fi bedroom recording aesthetics, instead boiling things back down to a lean core of catchy, fun and offbeat garage punk joy.
The last two weeks had two outstanding hardcore releases in store for us which i'll take the shortcut of rolling into one post here. Brainwash Victims from Milwaukee, Wisconsin have a new cassette out via Alawful Assembly sporting a sound that's not only fuzzed-out and noisy, raw and pissed as fuck but also comes up with plenty of inventive twists and turns, catchy hooks and melodic overtones along the way. These dudes don't just go hard, they've also got the tunes to make it stick!
Cleveland's Yambag then is a group i've had a bit of a sketchy view of over the years, especially with some of their more recent outings which at times sounded as if the harder these dudes play, the less effort they tend to put into the underlying tunes as if to compensate for a lack of song substance... Anyway, a decade into their efforts, they've released a new eight-song EP that shows them from their best side with a strong set of new tunes that keep things simple but also hard-hitting and catchy, just about hitting the sweet spot in their stylistic Venn diagram where everything that makes them shine is in place and perfectly dialed in. This one's a keeper.
On their second LP, this New Jersey group dabbles in a make of garage punk that feels weirdly old-fasioned and pleasantly out of touch with most genre developments of the last decade or two. Really, this artifact could have been released anytime between the classic Reatard(s) era and the last gasp of Male Bonding- or No Age-esque melodic fuzz punk in the early 2010s. Now it feels like a bit of an oddity in our times and you all know that's the kind of shit i like best, especially if it comes with such an abundance of strikingly simple, charmingly sloppy and viciously catchy pop tunes of fuzzy, melodic bliss.
Mexico City group La RAF certainly have an unlikely knack for taking decades-old post punk formulas and tropes while always succeeding in putting their very own stamp on them with every tune here kinda weirdly sounding like something that may have been released at any point from the late seventies onward, yet never quite like a tune you thought you've actually heard before - there's a fresh and lively energy to these tunes, imbued with plenty of personality and propelled forward in tight and punchy performances, even if the basic ingredients are as old as time.
The early teaser tracks for the debut longplayer of this Melbourne group featuring members of Piss Wizard and Stray Dogs To Good Homes had already signaled kind of a drastic departure from the simple Wipers-infused garage punk of their previous EP and indeed this record is a different beast altogether, taking on more of a dusty, americana-tinged post punk vibe with echoes of eighties Scientists but also plenty of more recent stuff like the noisy post punk of Copenhagen's Lower and the early works of Iceage; Sklitakling and Pleaser from Sweden, americana- and cowpunk-influenced US groups like Weak Signal and Bambara, or Australia's own Optic Nerve and Refedex. A rich tapestry of plausible, well-established influences to draw from for sure but these folks absolutely make it their own with tons of resilient song substance providing the foundation to expand upon for their noisy eruptions, determined performances, a fully matching vehicle of haunting sonics for the frank, urgent lyrics and vocals of frontwoman Freya Tanks.
Is this really the fourth Dead Finks LP already? Time sure flies by man! In contrast to that, the output of the Berlin-based duo consisting of Erin Violet and Joseph Thomas (formerly of New Zeeland post punkers Trust Punks) has been reassuringly constant and worthy at all times, surely carrying over some of that old Trust Punks DNA but matching it up with a great deal of folk-ish strumming and melancholia, woven into an epic and colorful mosaic of widescreen drama, a moody atmosphere of unresolved conflict that more than once reminds me of the kinda iconic, singular vision of Brisbane indie-/noise rockers Kitchen's Floor.
After going all-in on some darker acid rock vibes on their 2024 Buying Time EP, this Stockholm group's newest one once again steers largely clear of their egg-ish beginnings while returning to a bit of a lighter touch all the same - as much as they be trippin' here, it's an altogether pleasurable and joyous trip this time and whatever there may be left of potantially hazardous '60s psychedelic indulgences in their catchy garage punk is always counterbalanced and lightened up by playful synth accents and other quirky devo-isms that more than once strike me as a more lighthearted equivalent to the recent works of their city neighbors and local synth punk legends Isotope Soap.
The Pittsburgh, Pennsynvania punks follow up their raw and excellent debut with an even stronger, if maybe stylistically somewhat fragmented new 7", with the straightforward proto-meets-post punk vibes á la The Cowboy, Flat Worms, Punter or Open Your Heart-era The Men in the opener Voice Of Change probably bearing the closest similarity to the predecessor here, before Burning In The City exhibits more of an australian-sounding, melodic slacker rock vibe somewhere inbetween Dumb Punts, Gee Tee and Pist Idiots. The closing tune Moon Landing then is a sprawling 7-minute instrumental jam of monotonous yet also weirdly uplifting, kraut-y space rock excess.
Nightwatchers of Toulouse, France, one of the higher profile acts that sprung up in the probably Youth Avoiders-induced 2010s french wave of variably Oi-!influenced, melodic post punk/-core groups, has at times struck me as a somewhat spotty, shaky affair on some of their longplayers. On their newest EP they're operating in the golden zone from start to finish though, churning out four certified bangers with workmanlike routine and while their sound has never deviatied too much from that established formula and won't reinvent itself here either, they make up for that easily through the sheer strength of the underlying tunes and an unflinching, tight and vicious performance.
