Digital Hotdogs brings us the newest crime of Austin, Texas cowpunk wrecking crew Leche which, way more than any of their previous works, reminds me quite a bit of another Digital Hotdogs mainstay, Trashdog, not so much in terms of their actual sound and more in their hyperactive, disjointed anything-goes approach dismissing or subverting any established rules and conceptions of genre, structure, continuity, reality itself... so yeah this is yet another glorious genre-bending, fragmented mess that can feel like a bit too much of everything at times. But once you filtered your way thruough all the stuff, there's a really neat single LP hidden in this seemingly indiscriminate dump of a double LP's worth of material. This is maybe not so much (Trashdog's) Weezer's Blue Album and more (Leche's) The Beatles' White Album - a bit too long, kinda messy, in seemingly random sequence and it shouldn't be judged by its weakest parts.
I gotta admit i had severely subdued expectations for the successor to this Long Beach, California group's excellent 2022 debut LP, not because of anything actually related to them but rather simply 'cos sound-wise, they kinda struck me as the kind of group likely to either get too ambitious and bite of more then they can chew or, alternately, suddenly decide that it's about time to break through to the wider broccoli-haired indie crowd and water-down and gloss-up their sound accordingly. Thankfully, i was so fucking wrong and none of that has happened here. Although like on their debut, you may once again classify this shit as an, on the surface, quite fashionable make of jagged post punk with echoes both of first- and second-wave art punk groups á la early Siouxsie, Delta Five, Transmitters, Pylon and even a hint of Wire, as well as more recent phenomena like Marcel Wave, Spread Joy, Sweeping Promises and Marbled Eye, everything appears a lot more deliberate and refined on this one. While retaining that subtle undercurrent of no-wave mutant funk-ish dissonance, all of these new tunes distinguish themselves through perfectly balanced dramaturgy and dynamic, nuanced song progressions, often dialing down the pace and noise to a deliberately understated appeal, making perfect use of elaborate song architecture to achieve the maximum oomph not by way of sheer force but a mindful, punctual and laser-focused group effort.
There's more going on under the hood than first meets the eye on this Budapest group's debut cassette whose eight tunes on one hand - especially in its first half - channel some vaguely oldschool-ish KBD- and garage punk vibes with alternating flourishes of Gun Club and Wipers, counterbalanced by a bunch of way more contemporary sounding elements on which groups of the current anarcho-/postcore-axis á la Straw Man Army and Fantasma have surely left their mark while at many other points, a certain breed of art punk melancholy akin to, say, Kitchen's Floor and Uniform (Atlanta, not NYC) also shines through.
Typically excellent new fodder from some of my favorite post punk weirdos. The first track Optimism on this new Cassingle by the Cleveland, Ohio group encapsulates all the hallmarks of their angular brand of post punk into a compact and super-catchy little package while Foot Of Pride is a somewhat more ambitious, sprawling affair which - with its mid-tempo pace and uncharactaristically expansive length of over five minutes - still doesn't ever come close to overstaying its welcome thanks to its understated but effective slow-burn dramaturgy and a performance every bit as sharp and precise as anything this one-of-a-kind group has done before.
Eight explosive bursts of equally rough and smart, inventive and versatile hardcore punk are what we're in for on this californian group's debut EP, which on one hand bears some similarity to such oldschool-HC-meets-garage-punk groups like Strutter, Headcheese, early Electric Chair, Insane Urge and Necron 9 but then fuses that aesthetic with the unpredictability and structured chaos of more quirky out-of-the-box thinking groups á la Mystic Inane, Cucuy, Acrylics, Big Bopper and Rolex.
Dallax, Texas punks Thyroids have been fucking around with different styles and vibes for quite a few years already but they really started to hit their stride with last year's excellent EP Toppings and Droppings. Now, for their first full LP, they've once again shaken up and diversified their sound considerably, with only traces left of the heavy synth punk leanings of the predecessor. The opening track ABCs of Assimilation delights with a variation on angular post-meets-garage punk shit á la Reality Group, Uranium Club, Exit Group and also quite a bit of Skull Cult - even more so in tunes like Static/Dynamic or The New Poor, which also have a bit of an undeniable Knowso vibe to them. The Loot and Don't Ask, Dumbass are no-frills borderline-hardcore gut punches. Daily Habits reimagines the group in a somewhat egg-ish guise while Enterview and Suited & Tied have something of a math-y postcore edge, vaguely reminiscent of the likes of Big Bopper, Rolex, Brandy or Mystic Inane. Check Engine Light conjures up some oldschool Useless Eaters or Ex-Cult energy. Cop Out is a hyper-focused and compact garage smasher getting maximum mileage out of an old-fashioned riff and the closing tune !!! Click Now To Claim Your Reward !!! once again goes all-in on the afrementioned Skull Cult and Uranium Club vibes to utterly hypnotic results.
I gotta admit, after very much enjoying their 2019 debut EP, i had some serious difficulty warming up in particular to the 2023 Big Mess LP by this Brighton group which complied a bit too rigidly for my taste to the hip, ultra-processed middle-of-the-road formula of current british post punk chic, complete with its just-a-bit-too-slick production style, overuse of polyrhythmic leads and appregios, annoying zoomer count-your-syllables sprechgesang - ya know, not the most original building blocks these days. Their newest longplayer is a whole different beast altogether though, having regained much the group's previous edge and at times an almost postcore and noise rock-ish energy being poured into tunes that sound organically developed and whole this time - rather than forced, artificially cobbled together, processed and quantized within an inch of their life in a pro tools post production hell. No, this here is clearly the sound of a capable band being somehow shocked out of their complacency, a breathing, pulsing organism propelled forward with considerable momentum by real righteous anger while the tunes themselves are the most soundly and carefully composed and balanced we've heard of them so far, the synths being another subject of further refinement, sounding more properly anchored and seamlessly embedded than ever before on this record, which overall reminds me of a number of pretty diverse groups á la Beef, Dr. Sure's Unusual Practice, Broken Prayer, Wristwatch and Patti, among many others.
Reactivated old-timey australian punk veterans The Vacant Lot have a new 7" out on Iron Lung Records and it's a special one in multiple ways - to begin with, these are a bunch of formerly lost classics written in '78-'79, now pulled from their stash of unrecorded gems and given a proper new recording for the first time. The current incarnation of the band has Ausmutents and Alien Nosejob front magician Jake Robertson handling the guitar, who also appears to share production duties with another indespensable central piller of the australien garage punk scene, Mikey Young and oh boy does it show, resulting in a record whose sound kinda encapsulates the best of both worlds, the quirky energy of a vibrant contemporary scene just as much as the playful catchyness of first-wave DIY punk.
Not too long after their brilliant debut EP we already get to hear the first full LP of this Minneapolis group which still delights with a pleasantly old-fashioned genre mixture that primarily appears to take inspiration from the more left-field and melancholy edges of '80s -'90s post punk, hard- and postcore history, although the influences are a lot more varied here with the opening song Hello World having a strong '90s Dischord vibe somewhat reminiscent of the likes of Jawbox, Crownhate Ruin, Bluetip, Smart Went Crazy or Kerosene 454 while Tectonic Plates comes across like a curious mixture of Rapeman, Brainiac and Mule. Kick Geneva and Steve remind me a lot of Angst and Moving Targets, BDFI has some Butthole Surfers-esque doominess and it's not before the second-to-last track, the instrumental What Happens Next and the subsequent Mantle, that those Mission Of Burma influences - which were more strongly present on the EP - kick into full gear once again. Anyway, through much of the record, there's a slightly folk-ish undercurrent goin' on aswell that further calls to mind such eighties US groups like The Proletariat, Volcano Suns, M.I.A. and My Dad Is Dead.
That Evinspragg record has garnered the most publicity of the newest Inscrutable Records batch for several reasons, some of them justifiable, others more annoyingly drama-related. But to be perfectly honest, that one is a bit too ambitious for its own good in my humble opinion and a bit of a mixed bag which starts out incredibly strong, then kinda fizzles out towards the end and i actually feel much more drawn towards the label's other two releases among which is this full-length debut by Johnny Skin. On it, they create a dreamy, melancholy and super-catchy melange blending the yearning vibe of '50s-'60s bubblegum pop ballads with rudimetary, minimalist lo-fi vintage electronic drum beats and synths in a fashion that's gonna draw inevitable comparisons to Suicide and Métal Urbain, interspersed with a bunch of more noisy and dissonant no wave-ish tunes more in the vein of noisy synth punk pioneers á la Primitive Calculators or Nervous Gender and the experimental, psychedelic sounds of Theoretical Girls, Chrome or MX-80.
