What this dude from Chico, California pulls off on his debut EP i can best describe as a pleasantly antiquated sounding burst of late aughts / early 2010s fuzz punk and noise pop with plenty of a Wavves, Male Bonding and early Terry Malts kind of energy, but equally imbued with some of that certain surf-infused psychedelia of the same era á la Crystal Stilts and Fresh & Onlys.
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A neat little bag of tricks and surprises, the debut EP by this Memphis group. The opening track seems hellbent on reanimating the late '80s / early '90s vibes of the AmRep and Touch&Go multiverse and, though not affiliated with those labels, i'm particularly reminded of the Lo-Fi noise rockers Drunks With Guns. Diesel Disco then kinda smells of early UK DIY á la early Mekons, Swell Maps and Desperate Bicycles while being transformed into a contemporary fuzz punk context. The Junt is just a perfect midtempo blast of a proto-grunge eighties garage rock throwback. Newspeak cranks up the weirdness with its distinct stop-and-go dynamics and structure. Finally, Control is more like your standard stooges-indebted fuzzy garage rocker and, quite honestly, overall the least thrilling thing on this otherwise thoroughly engaging EP.
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This Portland group's debut EP delights with an effortlessly cool make of fuzz punk alternating between melodic noise pop gems that kinda resemble rougher and simpler variants of early No Age, Terry Malts, Male Bonding, Why Bother?, The Wind Ups or Deletions, and a couple of even more primal bursts that call to mind the likes of Buck Biloxi, Lumpy and the Dumpers, Giorgio Murderer, Bart and the Brats and that Zhoop/Djinn/Feed/etc. dude. Closing out the bunch is a neat acoustic tune that doesn't shit the bed either.
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This second EP by an Austin group consisting of, quite possibly, fully imaginary members save for some lone dude in his bedroom, hits all the right pain- and pleasure points of the nervous system with three burning dumpsters worth of primitive and raw-as-fuck three-chord garage- and fuzz punk behaving just about demented enough to please demanding connoisseurs of other stupid fucking shit á la Buck Biloxi, ISIS or Giorgio Murderer. Love it.
Although i still haven't dared yet to venture deeper into the kinda intimidating back catalog of Totowa, New Jersey act Monda, they have already made a lasting impression as a shapeshifting, restless creative force in constant flux over the course of this year. While this spring's Stiff Jumbo spazzed out gloriously and let its freak flag fly in short bursts of melodic noise and then, sumer's VIII saw them calm down and relax a bit, for large portions of their newest LP's I'd now say they're spacing out and i mean that in the most flattering sense. This is a fuzzy bundle of DIY space-/acid punk eccentricities that just can't hide the creative drive, human warmth, sense of wonder and curiosity behind its, admittedly, pretty fucking stoned appearance, on one hand reminding me a bit of groups like recent Mononegatives, late-era Useless Eaters, Pow! and some of the more motorik minded incarnations of The(e) O(h)Sees while other songs like I Alwys Have It Till I Need It, Chronic Embarrassment and Creek Time inhabit those same anthemic oldschool indie rock and fuzz punk qualities that made the aforementioned records so special.
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Where the average group in the 12XU-related spectrum tends to become ever more elaborate until the point where they start to suck (well, if they make it that long...), Seattle group The Unfit seem to go the opposite route, becoming more stripped down and primitive until they're probably gonna suck at some point as well. Presently, they're far from having reached that stage though and this shit works out marvelously even if - or maybe just because - more than once, their fuzzy garage- and post punk tunes get boiled down to sort of a Feedtime-esque level of monotonous repetition and simplicity.
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This Minneapolis group runs an interesting gamut on their newest EP ranging from the punchy fuzz punk attack of Like A Dream? over the math- and noise rock infused post punk of Yeehaw! to the comparatively straightforward garage punk of Saved, while the closing track 5678 branches out into some kind of a hazy space rock jam. At different points i'm reminded of groups as diverse as early Rolex, Cutie, Shark Toys, Reality Group, The Cowboy and Big Bopper.
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So here's the second cassette by a certain group of witches, once again spreading their bodily juices over any decent, moldy dungeon wall they can find in their hometown of Simi Valley, California. Like anything they've done so far, this is a gloriously burning dumpster of fuzzed-out garage punk mayhem spiked with heavy-duty hooks and catchy melodies that shall not be missed by friends of similar worrisome developments á la The Gobs, Slimex, early Exhite, Exit Mould, Geoduck Diodes and 3D & The Holograms.
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The past weeks have seen a couple of outstanding new offbeat, not-exactly-your-standard-hardcore releases. Just a mere week after their last one, we've already gotten a new Piss Wizard EP which once again delivers fuzz-laden hardcore mayhem fused with pronounced KBD, garage- and surf punk vibes, raw and catchy in equal measure with plenty of unlikely flashes of melody hidden under its abrasive surface. The new EP of Winnipeg group Lackey then scratches a similar itch of garage-soaked hardcore in a way more straightforward but by no means unsophisticated manner, their highly flammable riffs plowing ahead in a fashion not entirely dissimilar to recent acts á la G.U.N., Crisis Man, Jug, Chain Whip or Termite. Last but not least, take the traits of the other two groups featured in this post and drench it in more of a '77 vibe plus a hint of oldschool west coast hardcore and the new EP of Philadelphia's Body World should be what you get, roughly, but that alone would be disregarding just how inventive and adaptable this group acts here with none of these songs sounding quite alike.
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Horror-/dungeon-themed Garage Punk from Houston. Blown-out, smelly and abrasive, this shit strikes me as a mix of early Strange Attractor, Neo Neos, Lumpy & The Dumpers, Stinkhole and Research Reactor Corp. What the fuck's not to like about such a proposition? I'd much rather listen to that than whatever shit you're listening to.
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