These folks based in Biel, Switzerland have created a true slow burn-type of a record here via the local imprint Chrüsimüsi Records that frequently takes its sweet time to get to the point but pays off handsomely when you stick with it. The sluggish crawl of an opening tune Different Times immediately reminds me of the dusty, desert-flavored americana rock of Weak Signal, which then gets transformed into very much of a post punk context in the following tune Bubbles while songs like Peace Of Mind have some obvious Velvet Underground energy flowing through them and a undercurrent of oldschool art- and glam rock that’s also ever-present in The Candidate. At other times, i’m frequently reminded of Berlin’s folk-ish Post Punkers Dead Finks, the earlier work of London’s Witching Waves, a decelerated variant of The Cowboy or Flatworms, the earthy garage rock of Honey Radar or the spiky art punk of Far Corners and Germ House… even the first Peace de Résistance LP may at times resonate with this.
Their newest EP is hands-down the strongest effort so far of this Indianapolis group, who seemingly have left behind the more straightforward rockin’ sounds of previous releases and dialed down the energy level considerably for a comparatively relaxed style of garage rock taking many cues from Paisley Underground-ish jangle pop and british psychedelia. And what can i say, they have carefully crafted the tunes to prove they mean business and aren’t fucking around here. It’s a consistently classy treat of laid-back psychedelic pop that’s catchy as fuck without ever running the risk of becoming too saccharine, a bit like a mixture of, say, Good Flying Birds and White Fence, or maybe also an even calmer version of recent power pop goodness á la Shrapnel and Dumbells.
This Sydney group has an embarrassment of riches in store for us that’s being poured into a sonic guise of timeless elegance here – heavy duty power pop songwriting chops take on the shapes of Byrds-inspired, relaxed garage rock, british invasion- and first wave british psychedelia-fueled jangle pop anthems which often come across like a less sarcastic variant of The Soft Boys, a more retro-minded Guided By Voices or the more powerpop-ish corners of the Bevis Frond galaxy, though you may just as well compare them to more recent, mostly US-based groups like The Resonars, White Fence, Honey Radar, Good Flying Birds, Chronophage, Violent Change, Scupper, Germ House or Mo Troper, while in more indie rock-leaning tunes like Winston you can sense just a little hint of fellow australians Treehouse.
Is that title meant to be understood as a 13th Floor Elevators reference? If so, it kinda fits (plus a ton of Kinks in here as well, i’d say…) as this LP marks the closest the eclectic project of Jake Robertson (Ausmuteants, Smarts, Drug Sweat, etc…) has ever approached classic ’60s garage rock territory – a proposition that could easily turn out a recipie for pure boredom in the hands of lesser musicians, but damn… this dude simply knows how to construct and carry a catchy tune. Add to the mix lots of ancient power pop of only the saddest kind and you get an LP that will surely turn out a bit difficult to swallow for some fans of his broader work, yet also doesn’t seem too out-of-place if you’re familiar with the breadth of previous Alien Nosejob releases, as Robertson has already dabbled in similar fare on albums such as Various Fads and Technological Achievements (2018) and Suddenly Everything Is Twice As Loud (2020), although here he finally goes all-in on this overwhelming sense of doom, an all-devouring black cloud of deep melancholia.
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.
It’s a new LP by the Detroit group and as you might already suspect, there’s not a whole lot in the way of surprises here, which is totally fine for their particular local flavour of garage mayhem. As far as fairly traditional, heavily Stooges-/MC5-informed garage punk (and just maybe, a hint of Feedtime?) goes, it doesn’t get much better in terms of raw, primal energy. This is the kind of record which convinces almost exclusively by virtue of brute force and boy do i feel saved now, which is to say: Ouch!
More beautiful delightful garage punk mayhem by the dungeon-dwellers from Karlsruhe, Germany, this time in a slightly less lo-fi yet perfectly potent sound aesthetic. Once again you might be remembered of acts like Strange Attractor, Salamirecorder and, most of all, various incarnations of Thee Oh Sees over the years. My Spell, then again, sounds a bit as if the latter had been crossbred with the no-wave infused drones of noise rockers Spray Paint.
My best effort to describe this work of the devil channeled by some St. Louis, Missouri dude is this: An overabundance of stupid demented shit condensed into fun little garage tunes in the vague neighbourhood of Buck Biloxi, Strange Attractor or, alternately, Dead Moon & The Dead Milkmen, maybe with some Wild Man Fisher thrown in for good measure. I think i’m just about dumb enough to appreciate that!
The newest EP of Rhode Island one-man-band Germ House aka Justin Hubbard carries another strong batch of songs in their trademark juxtaposition of rustic post punk abstraction and a folky undercurrent. Especially in the first half, these songs feel a tad more developed than usual this time while still retaining their overall quirkiness and their minimalist, fragmentary charme.
When this New York dude’s enchanting and bewildering 2020 debut EP Hedgemakers hit, i didn’t have the slightest clue who’s the mastermind behind Peace De Résistance. Turns out it’s none other than Institute vocalist Moses Brown – yeah, kinda makes sense in retrospect, i guess. Dunno how i missed that. His first longplayer now unfolds a somewhat more elaborate, yet still pretty minimalist soundscape that once again feels out of place in all the best ways – a time capsule of hazy false memories weaving early strains of proto-, art- and post punk into a vivid, semi-plausible case of the Mandela effect.
