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.
New hardcore shit from Athens, Georgia that owes its overwhelming what-the-fuckness and disorienting qualities in part to the completely blown-out fucked-uppery in the engineering department but also in no small part to some hints of noisy Big Black-ishness that still seeps through the cracks underneath a brittle surface of pure distortion and white noise. Strip all that muck away and you may be left with the greatest or the worst hardcore performance in the world and i don't care either way 'cos the way it is, this shit sounds like pure bliss to me.
