Over the past two years, Portland label Spared Flesh Records has proven itself a real powerhouse of weird and offbeat noises in the realm of post-, garage- and art punk and this new LP by Reuben Sawyer aka Anytime Cowboy is yet another rough gem to behold. His bluesey low-key cowpunk sound comes across kinda like an incarnation of early Gun Club incredibly mindful of not waking the neighbors or a super-muted version of Parquet Courts, Tyvek, while in parts also not entirely dissimilar to that recent Peace de Résistance album. It’s a soundscape that could softly lull you to sleep if it weren’t for that pervasive sense of unspeakable abysses lurking just around any corner now, with Sawyers calm deep voice further adding to the music’s quite uncanny yet weirdly comforting qualities.
Having done an already pretty fuckin’ neat first EP earlier this year, this duo (i think…) from Hollywood, Florida follows up on that with an even more weird, ecccentric and eclectic new cassette, once again operating on the fringes of post-, garage-, egg- and art punk. Right out of the gate i’m reminded of the first Peace de Resistánce EP’s crude proto-meets-post punk sketches, combined with the relaxed acid-/space rock leanings of the latest Scooter Jay tape. Digging my Grave surprises and delights with its oddball cowpunk feel while the overall vibe and anything-goes approach most of all makes me think of acts á la Print Head, Electric Prawns 2. The brand new Anytime Cowboy record wouldn’t make the worst comparison either in some places while other bits and pieces then have a distinct smell of early Snooper, Metdog, Checkpoint, Silicone Prairie… even a tiny smidge of early Woolen Men!
On their fourth album, the Texas post punk overlords Institute present themselves as strong as ever with plenty of tricks left up their sleeve for keeping listeners on their toes, never knowing what they’re gonna do next. Overall, the previous LP’s trend towards a more melodic and relaxed sound is continued here, creeping a lot closer to the aesthetics of singer Mose Brown’s NY based project Peace de Résistance, taking cues mostly from the first wave of art- and post punk groups. There’s a strong vibe á la Television, Modern Lovers or early Soft Boys goin’ on in songs like City and Wonder. Dead Zone then feels a bit like Wipers-meet-Saints while All The Time echoes the likes of Metal Urbain, MX-80, Suicide and Chrome. Dopamine for my Baby weirdly has a strong touch of contemporary NY group Straw Man Army to it. All of it then culminates in the epic, slightly Wire-esque closing track Warmonger.
Another insane quality release courtesy of Erste Theke Tonträger by a Melbourne group featuring members of such household names like Pinch Points, Dr. Sure’s Unusual Practice, Gonzo and Dragnet. Right out of the gate we’re greeted with an adventurous sound somewhere inbetween garage-, synth- and art punk calling to mind acts like Ghoulies, Set-Top Box, Isotope Soap and a bit of Erik Nervous. Second track Friends continues in that direction, then takes a sharp turn into psychedelic post punk territory somewhat reminiscent of groups like Marbled Eye, Yammerer, Waste Man or Public Eye. Break surprises with a relaxed psychedelic garage- and fuzz pop groove, followed by Ice Summit, a compact, economical garage rocker echoing the likes of Parquet Courts, Tyvek and Shark Toys. Then, shit gets truly weird with Drift – a sprawling garage-and-eggpunk-goes-progressive-rock kind of exercise unafraid to go real cheesy in the expansive middle part. Side B then comes across more homogenous, less ambitious but by no means less enjoyable, these straightforward bangers reflecting the likes of Cherry Cheeks, Smirk, Metdog, Powerplant and Freak Genes, among a ton of other shit.
Once again, Leipzig group Onyon convince me by virtue of their adaptability and solid Craftsmanship rather than novelty, reproducing a number of tried and tested formulas that firmly click into spec on their second LP. Post punk that ain’t trying anything funny, you could say. This time we get just a smidge of eggpunk weirdness added to the mix. Songs like Dogman then have more of a garage punk edge to them. There’s a touch of Wire in Egg Machine, oldschool goth-/deathrock vibes in Invisible Spook and bits and pieces of Gun Club are sprinkled throughout the whole of it. Needless to say, echoes of other more or less recent artifacts of the Leipzig scene like Ambulanz, Lassie and Laff Box are to be found in there aswell.
Portland’s Collate have never been a group to push the boundaries of their own genre exactly, but that doesn’t mean there’s not plenty of fun to be had anyways with their comparatively straightforward and simplistic mixture located somewhere inbetween the more funky end of the no wave spectrum and Gang Of Four-esqie dance-/post punk grooves. It’s a record that kinda sneaks up on you with much of its strongest material hidden away in the second half.
A new Trading Wreckage release, which is always good for some vaguely no wave-informed joy, chaos and depravity. This one’s a real stunner though! In this particular incarnation, The Bozo Big Shit Garbage Band appears to be a solo endeavor of Tony Shit also known as Reese McLean and whatever other monikers the guy has gone under, who has also been an integral part of the likes of Gay Cum Daddies, Eat Avery’s Bones, Bukkake Moms, Flesh Narc and many others. While some cosmic background hum of no wave experimentation is still tangible here, a lack of human chaos and clutter during recording appears to have also translated into an equally less cluttered album. Although still every bit as creative and unpredictable as we came to expect from previous releases, this newest one does it all in a structured, catchy and propulsive manner previously unheard from this dude, at times reminiscent of groups on the intersection of garage-, post- and art punk like the UV Race, Soft Shoulder, Shark Toys and Parquet Courts, while in other moments, this shit might sounds like some AmRep and Touch&Go-esque 90s Noise Rock collides with mid-eighties The Fall.
Stunning shit as is usually the case with anything featuring Josh Feigert of Atlanta groups such as Uniform, Wymyns Prysyn and, most recently, Glittering Insects. Once again, this record is drenched in that same unmistakable trademark melancholia spread out onto an epic widescreen canvas, which is also at the core of the aforementioned groups. A familiar vibe for sure but there’s plenty of room for surprises and unexpected flourishes here as well, like some uncharacteristic flashes of melodicism in songs such as Skyless Bells and Earthtone.
Five minutes of delightful noises and structured chaos crammed into dense little tunes by an israeli group. Equally punishing, quirky and eclectic shit right in the sweet spot overlapping post punk, noise rock and garage punk – a freewheeling anything-goes spirit reminding me of a bunch of groups such as Big Bopper, Brandy, Patti, Reality Group or Cutie.
Minimalist psychedelic hypnotism of a particularly repetitive and stubborn, timeless variety by frenchman Remy Pablo who, if i’m not mistaken, is also playing in groups such as The Anomalys and Weird Omen. You can hear clear echoes of ol late-’70s and ’80s underground groups á la MX-80, Chrome, early Telescopes and Metal Urbain while further comparisons might just as well be made to more recent acts like Peace de Résistance, A Place To Bury Strangers, Jean Mignon and Writhing Squares.
