I had a bit of a hard time warming up to more recent entries in that increasinly scrappy and loose sounding line of tapes of this Portland group fronted by Matt Radosevich of Honey Bucket fame. Now on their first acutal LP though, they mean business it appears and indeed they come across as focused as they haven’t sounded for quite some time. Less is more seems to be the maxim here with what basically amounts to five prolonged, equally monotonous and playful one-chord wonders (well, almost), in which texture and rhythm do most of the heavy lifting instead. Really, this is the kind of minimalism that makes early The Fall sound like progressive rock in comparison. Paradoxically, for a record making so few concession to preconceived notions of what a “song” goes like, the whole thing is radiating infectiously upbeat vibes throughout in what is probably gonna be the most joyous piece of abstract art punk you’ll hear this summer.
Now that’s an impressive debut LP by this London group, who’ve apparently been around for many years already but took until now to come up with a full length record. Right out of the gate, the opening tracks has some vibe á la early Saccharine Trust with a touch of Flipper. Outsude Looking In kinds plays out like a forgotten Wire track colliding with the likes of Volcano Suns, Mission af Burma in addition to more recent stuff by Institute, Peace de Résistance. Animals Eat For Free then starts out loosely resembling eighties The Fall before taking a quite melodic turn in the chorus. And so it goes on, this eclectic and testeful war chest of ideas and influences, among which you might also consider X (AUS), Membranes, Cravats, Fungus Brains, early, pre-dub-influence Swell Maps and many more old DIY (post-)punk greats, just as much as contemporary groups like Shark Toys, The Cowboy, Society, earlier Sleepies, weirdo frenchies Subtle Turnhips, other London groups like 2010s garage powerhouse Sauna Youth – of whom i’m reminded mostly in the more straightforward second half of this record – or maybe Tense Men, whose swan-song album, released post-breakup in 2018, bears some striking similarities to this thing. There’s absolutely no room for boredom inbetween these endless flashes of unhinged inspiration and creativity.
Following a strong debut EP that still presented this Antwerp group from a more garage-leaning angle, the follow-up has them going all-in on a post punk vibe which on one hand takes plenty of cues from the James Chance-informed, funky end of the No Wave spectrum while also bearing a slight resemblance to the current Berlin scene and groups like Pigeon and Liiek in particular. I assume then it’s more than just a lucky coincidence this thing got released on Berlin post punk label Mangel Records.
Berlin post punk solo act DBR has already been sticking around for a bit and put out a whole bunch of EPs along the way, first under the name Dee Bee Rich, later shortened to the acronym DBR. His newest cassette via Turbo Discos is easily his most accomplished and versatile creation in a while, equipping the fairly minimalist, understated approach his more recent work has gradually morphed into with a whole new sense of melody, elegance and catchyness, while still coming across quirky, playful and odd as fuck.
On their third LP, coming to our shores via Sydney label Urge Records, the Berlin post punk duo consisting of Erin Violet and former Trust Punks vocalist Joseph Thomas sees them dialing down the folk-ish leanings a bit in favor of a slightly darker, heavier sound while retaining all of that overbearing sense of melancholy and the song-focused qualities that already had the previous records towering way above the bulk of the genre, prompting exclusively flattering comparisons to acts such as Public Interest, Marbled Eye, Waste Man, Tube Alloys, Corker, Glittering insects, Public Eye, Kitchen’s Floor, VR Sex and Mothers Milk.
A new Dischord Records co-release and as is usually the case with these, we’re once again dealing with a group whose members had their hands in a whole shitload of important bands spanning several decades of Washington, D.C. punk history, the most obvious of these probably being the likes of Kerosene 454, Channels, Beauty Pill, Soccer Team, Office of Future Plans, Alarms And Controls and to make this namedropping-circlejerk complete, the whole thing has been recorded by Jawbox’s J. Robbins. But here’s the thing with many of these more recent Dischord releases: They rarely ever sound like a tired rehash or bloodless nostalgia-driven cash-in. It’s a unique quality of many actors in this particular scene, the ability of staying true to their own musical heritage while still sounding every bit as vital and passionate as back in the day, willing to do the work necessary for making this by now very oldschool thing sound as fresh as ever, helped by an apparent inability to half-ass any of it.
What i said about Uranium Club’s effect on garage punk a couple weeks back, similar things i can attest to this Oakland group concerning their particular (sub-)genre. Here we have a new LP by another band who, despite far from being the most prolific of acts out there, has clearly sent plenty of ripples through the post- and art punk scene of recent years. It’s been over five years since their last record and surely things have kept moving since then, as evidenced by a matured sound on display here that once again presents them on the cutting edge of their own niche, considerably advancing and developing their sound and craft while still retaining all the traits that made them so special in the first place. What’s already been forshadowed with their 2022 digital single Dirty Water comes into full bloom here – their songs and arrangements, while still being every bit as eleborate and angular constructions, have gained a lot in terms of elegance and melodic sensibility, their compositions always being grounded in careful and intricate songwriting craftsmanship. Songs like the brilliant first single See It Too kinda channel the most melodic and catchy aspects of ’70s Wire while enriching those smartypants aesthetics with tons of human warmth and sincere emotion.
Now here’s some brilliant shit i’ve been totally unprepared for, certainly having a mind of its own and being delightfully out of touch with the zeitgeist! Sure, the whole thing feels kinda old. I’m kinda old too, so i like that. Imagine the likes of Saccharine Trust, Minutemen, Swell Maps and The Pop Group partaking in an occult ritual to conjure up an ancient ’60s acid rock demon, an unholy crossbreed of psych- and math rock. This is quite terribly self-indulgent of course, but that aspect kinda comes with both of those genres, i guess. At this point i’m pretty sure you’ve already made up your mind about it and know if you’re gonna love or hate it. In my humble opinion, what the Philadelphia group hallucinates up here is pretty fucking swell and totally should be legalized!
Holy fuck, has it seriously been a whopping five years already since the last LP by one of the most influential, defining groups of the current era of quirky and intelligent garage punk? It certainly didn’t seem that long to me and part of that might be down to their distinct mix of playful, angular and elaborate garage- and art punk having been such an omnipresent undercurrent of so many things that have happened in the last few years, with groups such as Dumb, Vintage Crop, Pinch Points, Aborted Tortoise, Reality Group, Yammerer and Patti being only the tip of the iceberg concerning groups that appear to have taken some inspiration from them at one point or another. On their fourth LP so far, Uranium Club keep expanding their stylistic scope as well, showcasing a matured songwriting ability which pays off especially well in slower numbers like the strummy and folk-ish garage pop almost-a-ballad Tokyo Paris L.A. Milan, which unites some qualities of groups á la Wireheads, Tyvek and The UV Race, or in The Ascent. with its pronounced Television-esque vibes. Like any of their previous albums, this is nothing short of an instant genre classic!
A bucketload of unhealthy sugary joy, the second EP by this NY act delivering a quirky and catchy mix of synth- and garage-, art- and eggpunk that skillfully and precisely hits kind of a sweet spot inbetween the sonic worlds of, say, Metdog, Smirk and Cherry Cheeks, more or less. Good shit!
