A new LP by that finnish group with way to many guitar players… dunno, i think 666 was the number last time i counted. Here, the band is shifting their sound increasingly into a psych rock direction. Especially in TJ they're diving headfirst into Space Rock territory and the effort pays of admirably. In other places, they stay true to their brand of melodic indie rock, fuzz punk and noise pop with echoes of No Age, Wavves, California X, Happy Diving and some early The Men, which they then infuse with sprawling guitar drones reminiscent of Glenn Branca and 80s Sonic Youth.
An overflowing bucket of joy, the newest LP(ette) by some duo from Montreuil, France, generating a mixture melodic of garage punk, oldschool indie rock, fuzz- and jangle pop reminding me of a diverse group of more-or-less recent acts á la Dumb Punts, Woolen Men, Hermetic, Landlines, The Exbats, Tape/Off… or maybe a more down-to-earth P.S. I Love You, aswell as old indie rockers of the Superchunk, Archers Of Loaf variety. This record serves as a perfect reminder that you don't need to stage a huge spectacle if you just deliver on the melodies that stick.
Damn, i thought i was done blogging for the week and then this unexpected little gem of crude and shambolic noise by a Budapest group crops up last minute, their sound striking me as a peculiar fusion of oddball garage punk in the Eddy Current Suppression Ring and UV Race vein with similarly weird acts in the post punk and oldschool indie rock field such as Treehouse, Kitchen's Floor, The Molds and City Yelps.
Wow, i didn't really expect that much enjoyment out of the most recent LP by this New York group… in fact, these folks have completely evaded my radar so far. What we get is a heavily Velvet Underground and Jesus and Mary Chain-inspired melange of fuzz-/power-/noise-/dream pop that convinces by sheer strength of the underlying song substance while in terms of sonics, they sure like to slow-cook their songs at low-to-moderate heat - the results are fucking delicious, just totally melting in your mouth as you relish every single hook, every speck of low-level texture in their rich sonic landscape.
A nice little battery of vaguely egg-ish garage punk and fuzz pop combining more recent weirdness à la Print Head or Freak Genes with a good measure of Desperate Bicycles, some early Flying Nun Records vibes - especially The Clean and The Stones - a touch of C86 pop (as in Cowboys Aren't Real) or also: loads of random 80s cassette culture artifacts that might or might not have cropped up on some Messthetics/Homework/Hyped To Death compilation over the years.
A wondrous and strange little EP full of otherworldly garage-/power-/fuzz pop from a Philadelphia Duo. The tape starts out as if the insane pop qualities of, say, Booji Boys or Daughter Bat & The Lip Stings collided with the smart rhythmic post punk of Lithics, while the remaining three songs then settle into a slightly more low-key kraut-leaning psychedelic groove, the likes of which you might suspect somewhere in the lo-fi pop worlds of acts like Germ House, Far Corners, Violent Change, Honey Radar or even early Woolen Men. Excellent shit throughout.
Sydney's Daughter Bat And The Lip Stings, who've already been making some waves with a whole shitload of fun EPs in 2020, are now returning with their strongest selection of tuneful garage punk, fuzz- and power pop smashers so far, their knack for catchy hooks provoking thoroughly flattering comparisons to the likes of Booji Boys, Radioactivity, Royal Headache or Sweet Reaper.
The Nico Missile is another one of Ricky Hell's many pastimes. There are few surprises here, instead you get more of his familiar trademark of quality. If you know some of his other Bands like Fascinating or Ricky Hell And The Voidboys you kinda know what to expect: Garage-edged Fuzz Punk and Noise Pop somewhere in the Neighbohood of No Age, Terry Malts, Tiger! Shit! Tiger! TIger! or Male Bonding. What more could you want?
