So let me try to get this right. It appears this new-ish Soft Shoulder LP ain't so much a compilation of stuff released on various lathe-cut EPs and -singles over the past couple years rather than a collection of songs recorded years ago that deliberately first got put out in that piecemeal way starting in 2022, but was intended from day one to eventually make up a full LP, which we now have in front of us. Phew, that sure is some kind of clunky roundabout way of doing things and i'll say it's just fitting for one of the most intentionally clunky, roundabout types of bands of our time, one that's been around way longer than this blog, is probably gonna outlast it too and has never failed to amaze with their cluttered and messy, though also totally unmistakable, singular vision of vagely The Fall-inspired, No Wave-informed post punk and noise rock. And you know what? I think it's the greatest thing the (in its current incarnation) one-man-band from Tempe, Arizona has ever done even after the knockout double whammy of 2023s Smile Building's Exit and It’s A Small World After LPs, as i'll say these new old tunes hit even harder in their collected, re-sequenced new form - so much creativity and brilliance concentrated into a dense 21-song 45-minute record that refuses to get tedious for even a second and the added punch and clarity of a stellar new mastering job also sure contributes a good bit to making this thing gel together and rise way above just the sum of its parts.
Holy fuck how the hell did i miss this Vienna group's debut record when it first came out in April? This is for sure nothing less than one of the standout releases of this year on the more oldschool end of the post punk spectrum with a sound feeling like a welcome throwback to the simpler days of the genre's 2010s resurgence with more than just a fleeting glimpse of bands á la Rank/Xerox, Negative Space, earlier works of Institute or The Estranged, maybe a hint of Nervosas even or the very first Diät single? There's also a healthy pulsing garage punk edge to this shit in tunes like Collecting Dust, as well as a neat topping of Wipers-Esque guitar work. This is exactly the kind of stripped-down no-frills direct-impact energy i would sure appreciate more of in this day and age.
Any new 1-800-MIKEY record is always a treat of pleasantly predictable, uneventful comfort food from a dude otherwise known as part of Gee Tee among other things, whose own little niche on the garage-punk / power-pop spectrum has been well-established by now and though his music won't ever blow anyone away through sheer originality or innovation, it sure always does through the pure and innocent power of straightforward, no-frills songwriting brilliance! And so he does again on his third LP now, unleashing yet another batch of infectious and utterly endearing pop earworms that won't leave you terribly surprised but never fail to delight either in what may be their most relaxed and low-key effort so far, this time at points even fully embracing kind of an oldschool dream pop vibe, especially in the record's second half and tunes like K-Style and Falling In Love.
Different flavors and intensities of cowpunk-related noise seem to be a running thread in the past two weeks and right on cue, there's also a new record by one of recent years' most impressive voices in the field: Reuben Sawyer's solo project Anytime Cowboy, as usual released without much fuss or even the slightest heads-up in terms of promotion and i like that - Anytime Cowboy certainly ain't a group in danger of getting dubbed an industry plant by kids just coming to terms with the fact that such a thing as the music PR business even exists, haha. Anyway, with how massive an instant classic last year's Demons Obey has been, it would surely be kind of a tall order to expect another of those right away and indeed, its successor doesn't even feel too concerned with one-upping that record and instead comes across as just another very, very good record that may feel a couple tracks too long at one point or another but on the plus side, shuffles things around with a slightly altered, lighter overall feel, leaning a bit heavier into a relaxed and upbeat indie rock vibe while still carrying that unmistakable folk-ish strummy, jangly feel and the uncanny, surreal quality to these tunes. At eighteen of those, the record predictably has a bit of a looser and more fragmented character, though if you judge it by the sheer number of certified bangers on there, i'm gonna say it's nothing short of another fucking winner.
This Boston group has six unresistably smelly puddles of oldschool-ish garage punk action for us that fit roughly inbetween the basic parameters of classic Reatard(s), golden-era Liquids and more KBD-inspired shit we've heard from the likes of Freakees and Launcher, with a couple pop-nuggets thrown in that remind me of stuff á la Dark Thoughts or early Vaguess. There's nothing terribly smart or original about it really but the tunes, performances and attitude are just spot-on and whenever i'm craving some basic no-frills catchy garage mayhem, this shit's just gonna fit the bill.
They've been around for way longer than i first realized, this Cleveland, Ohio group featuring, among others, Mickey Mocnik of Nervosas fame who's later also been making awesome noise with The Missed and, most recently, Vital Stress. Anyway, last year's Adaptor EP certainly saw the group move on a bit from their earlier sound dominated by echoes of late '80s, early '90s punk and indie rock-ish vibes with a slight touch of Fastbacks toward a more fleshed-out, kinda contemporary-feeling, yet also perfectly timeless brand of fuzzy, garage-y noise pop with some subtle traces of psychedelia and post punk on top. On this new one, they once again channel their energies into an even more catchy and compact bundle of tunes which once again call to mind mostly 2010s groups like Feature, UV-TV, Slowcoaches or Monster Treasure.
Vague Fugue already had a neat EP out last year even though that one still suffered a bit from a kinda plain production aesthetic which brought out a bit too much of a middle-of-the-road garage dadpunk vibe to fully vibe with me. I dunno, it just didn't feel quite appropriate or flattering to their sound, a stark difference to the muddy LoFi fog of this new tape, which frames their anachronistic mayhem as just the kind of drugged- and fuzzed-out satan worshipping acid rock the first EP already strongly hinted at, but couldn't quite sell. This shit sounds perfect right here and it definitely helps that the underlying song material, while still simple raw and primitive, never drops the ball once and omits any unnecessary noodling around and jam band wankery this time.
Chubby's still new-ish band EZ8 has now been properly renamed The Easy Eight and also has their first LP out via Static Shock Records which, to be fair, is actually just the first EP extended with four new tunes, which is also fine 'cos that EP was plenty awesome enough to be listened to over and over again and the new tracks are just as marvellous in that trademark Oi! / Power Pop fusion that only Chubby and his co-conspirators can pull off so infectiously. A good catchy tune and a stubborn, tight performance is all that's needed here, simple as that. I mean, what else do you expect of a new Chubby record? A progressive rock opera in nine chapters? No, you'll get this beauty instead, though there's still a couple of neat flourishes we haven't heard from any of his previous groups like that bit dungeon-esque oldschool heavy metal shredding throughout the verses of Fear As A Gift.
Damn, this Chicago group's noise must've already sounded quite archaic at the time their first LP dropped in 2013 but now, more than decade since their last recorded output, their sound has passively made it full circle back into the pleasantly old-fashioned, timeless and classy bracket of anachronistic noise, their sound clearly taking cues from the likes of Lync, early Jawbreaker and Superchunk or, to a lesser extent, Dag Nasty, Rites Of Spring and maybe also some traces of early Unwound and Hoover? Anyway, these tunes are operating on a level quite a few notches above your average '90s punk throwback, chiefly owing to an abundance of rock-solid songcraft all throughout and an unwavering intuition for timeless heavy-duty, load-bearing hooks, while also leaving plenty of wiggle room for some neat diversions and moments not quite fitting the standard early '90s postcore / emo / indie rock templates like that bit of a Wipers- and Dead Moon-esque garage flavor added to tunes like Caustic Dreams. It's this skillful balance of what strikes me as a quite intimate, encyclopedic knowledge and love of that particular patch of 90s punk history coupled with a marked reluctance to comply with its tropes and conventions too slavishly, adding even more of a unique flavor to a record that's not ashamed to feel vagely nostalgic and retro at points without ever coming across like a tired retread, still able to subvert and exceed my expectations in crucial places, a record equally inspired and old-fashioned.
Just about half a year after their brilliant previous Weston-le-Clay EP, its successor sees the Warford, England group once again upping their game in terms of both variety and compact-/catchyness of their, at times, subtly math-infused post punk, most significantly expanding on the more midtempo-ish section of their stylistic repertoire and as expected, that shit works just admirably here 'cos this dude (or these dudes?) clearly has the creative juice and raw musicality to pull that shit off. Just as before, smartypants contemporary post punk influences of the Landowner variety loom large over this one too, just as do ancient british DIY art punk staples from a quite diverse sphere inbetween, say, Mekons, Blurt and Television Personalities, though at the same time, Aidmoozic sound very much like themselves here more than ever. The seeds of this greatness were already noticeable on their two 2024 EPs, but Aidmoozic play on a whole different level in 2026 and i'm gonna say that in these short few recent months, Aidmoozic have catapulted themselves onto the cutting edge of contemporary art punk with razor-sharp, though seemingly effortless, precision.
