Beats me what being particularly “motorcycle” is supposed to entail (having two wheels and a motor and drinking gasoline i think…) but i can say with more confidence that i like Heather The Jerk tunes a lot better when they’re very motorcycle than when they’re not so much, as this this new EP has been the missing data point for me to determine as much from its fuzzy little bubblegum-infused garage punk- and noise pop gems that come across like a mixture between the only great pop punk group in the world – i’m speaking of Fastbacks, of course – and the eighties noise-/fuzz pop masterpieces of early The Primitives singles, helped along in no small part by an impeccable bundle of new tunes propelled forward by what’s no doubt the most eager performance we’re heard of them so far.
It’s been a weak of smaller-fry (albeit excellent) releases and i’m behind on my blogging queue anyway so i’m gonna take the easy route of collating it all into a single blog post this time, okay?
First off, there’s some delicious new hardcore shit from Hattiesburg group Silo Kids, further bolstering the stellar reputation of that unassuming mid-sized Mississippi town for being on the forefront of inventive and quirky hardcore punk that just refuses to play by the established rules and conventions.
With Power Pants of Winchester, Virginia on the other hand, we kinda know what we can expect from a new release, of which there are quite a few already and the next one is never too far off anyway (their recent CS5 Cassingle having been mere weeks ago aswell). Their newest PP11 EP feels like a considerable level-up from anything they’ve done before though in a discography that just may have started to feel a bit redundant at some points. Not that anything fundamental about their catchy melodic garage punk sound had changed, but these are cleary some of the most rippin’ and well-crafted tunes we’ve heard of them so far.
Scrawlers from Tacoma, Washington then appear to scratch a quite similar – though also way more fuzzed-out and rough – itch of simple and effective garage punk delicacies that’ll sure have friends of S.B.F., Kid Chrome, Gobs or Robbie Thunder approvingly nodding along to.
Dallas, Texas group Thyroids have been going for many years now but really hit their stride in the current decade with their sound growing ever more unpredictable, evading clear catigorizarion and this holds truer than ever on their newest two-track single, on which elements of garage- and synth punk, noise rock/-pop and eggpunk bounce off each other to exhilarating effects.
Last but not least, there’s yet another Snarewaves EP delivering more of their patented electro punk formula that’s every bit as strikingly simple as it is out-there and pretty much unique right now and although you’d think that kind of thing would run into the law of diminishing returns at some point, so far every new release just has left me craving more of that good shit.
Previous releases of this group from Pisa, Italy have all been obscured by a thick veil of of Lo-Fi grime and muck, yet the rough sonics couldn’t do anything to fully conceal the raw brilliance hiding beneath all the clutter. For their newest EP, they polished up their production values just enough for the first time to bring their eccentric, pocket-sized post punk epics out of the murky shadows and confirm our suspicion they don’t have to fear the revealing exposure to broad daylight. Starting off with a vibe not dissimilar to early 2010s surf-infused noise pop and fuzz punk groups like Male Bonding, early Wavves, No Age, Times Beach, Tiger! Shit! Tiger! Tiger! or, way more recently, Shooting Losers, it doesn’t take long though before their tunes also develop a distinct last-decade post punk feel á la Die! Die! Die! and Piles, but also rougher, weirder punk phenomena like Dumb Vision, Piss Wizard and Pink Guitars wouldn’t be too far fetched as a reference. On top of that, there’s an unmistakable hint of mid-90s-to-early-2000s postcore at play here, the kind some uncultured philistines may be inclined to dub screamo but let it be known once and for all that this distinction shall be considered an insult to any good band, so no, this ain’t screamo and fuck you for even bringing up that cursed idea.
The second LP of Minnesota’s Yuasa-Exide starts off with a thrusting burst of fuzzed-out catchy mid-tempo punk channeling a mix of mid-fi era Guided By Voices, the more power pop-ish ends of the Bevis Frond universe and a slight hint of Eric’s Trip or classic-era Dinosaur Jr. to boot in the opening track The Picture You Painted, just to increasingly and deliberately destabilize the sonic landscape on subsequent tracks. Their tunes and arrangements based somewhere inbetween the realms of ’80s to ’90s indie- and college rock, Flying Nun Records-style psychedelia and busy C86-ish strummery gain a more shambolic, hazy and surreal quality, always in acute danger of falling apart at the seams. Yet, quite wondrously, the looming sword of damocles never seems to strike, the tunes somehow always maintain their fragile equilibrium. The ability to pull that shit off already kinda struck me as their superpower on the previous Hyper At The Gates Of Dawn LP released earlier this year and i think it holds even more true here, a rare quality i previously found in early works by the likes of Rat Columns and The Molds over a decade ago and, maybe, the comparatively straightforward Psych Pop nuggets of Blank Realm’s 2014 Grassed In LP which, then again, brings us back full circle on the aforementioned Flying Nun vibes.
Excellent new shit, the debut EP of this Nottingham, UK group whose style feels kinda fluid, evading categorization as a whole even if the isolated components feel fairly familiar, the most immediately striking ones being the eggpunk-related eccentricities of Snooper, early Skull Cult, Busted Head Racket, Clarko on one hand and the considerably rougher weirdness of Warp, Beef, Scud on the other while at times even approaching the unpredictable off-the-rails eclecticism of Pressure Pin, Checkpoint or TY.
Ever since i first stuck my nose in their immense output sometime last year, New Jersey group Monda have proven their worth as not only one of the most productive, but also most consistent purveyors of catchy and fuzzed-out delicacies sitting somewhere inbetween garage punk, oldschool indie rock, noise- and power pop. One other thing you’re quickly gonna notice about them is that they really like to rearrange the sonic furniture a bit between releases to keep things fresh and exciting which, among other things, has led to a heavily spaced-out, psychedelic-leaning stretch in their discography most noticeable in and around 2024’s Ponderous Leviathan LP. Their newest one now sees them kinda going back to the basics and once again they’re getting all of them so fucking right, channelling some pronounced ’50s-’60s bubblegum pop vibes just as much as ‘eighties Flying Nun and Sarah Records-type art-/indie pop artifacts and various C86-style oddities in a flawless string of strikingly simple but lovingly crafted new tunes that just hit their marks dead-on without exception.
First-rate new catchy garage punk shit from Sydney that cycles through quite a few different styles in its four songs with POSIWID and the opening tune What A Time To Be Alive coming across a bit like a mix between the fuzzy power pop of Sex Mex and the quirky synth-enhanced egg-ish action of Ghoulies while the synth punk of The Game recalls oldschool Digital Leather material and more recent stuff like Spyroids and O-D-EX. The closing track B-52’s Tattoo on the other hand sounds like something right out of the warped mind of Texas garage punk eccentric Trashdog. Oh wait, there’s yet another dog band i’m thinking of here… Oh right, that’s Melbourne’s wonderfully trashy garage-/synth punk explosion Metdog!
New shit from Mark Ryan (of Marked Men, Mind Spiders and Radioactivity fame) and his current electro-/synth punk outfit O-D-EX (or is it just Odex now?). After one short- and one long-playing release from last year – each of ’em sporting more of a minimalist and cold synth wave aesthetic – this new EP sees the duo of Ryan and Micah opening up their tunes towards a comparatively warm, melodic and overall more tangible direction that indeed sounds like a perfect middle ground between the group’s aforementioned previous releases and the considerably more garage-leaning Mind Spiders records.
I’m a bit short on time this week so here’s just a quick digest of quirky punk releases with varying degrees of egg-ish-ness of which these three particularly stuck out to me. For starters, there are the comparatively rough sounds of Athens, Georgia group Mr. [Redacted] whose tunes rapidly alternate between the parameters of a hard-/art-/weirdcore sound not entirely dissimilar to groups like Judy & The Jerks, Warm Bodies, Sniffany & The Nits, and the more egg-intensive sounds of early Snooper, Print Head, Awful and early Skull Cult. If you’re more interested in classic egg punk territory, you may get tons of enjoyment out of the new Tape by Lovebomb from Hildesheim, Germany (man, the krautwürstle are really punching above their weight this week, aren’t they?), wo deliver a densly packed bundle of snappy textbook eggpunk goodness most similar to shit á la Prison Affair, Beer, Winky Frown, Molbo and Goblin Daycare. If you prefer it more weird and Lo-Fi, try the new one of Leipzig (again!) group TTTTurbo whose recorded output’s overall aesthetic is the sonic equivalent of an n-th generation document that’s been xeroxed a couple times too many – beneath a thick layer of burnt monochrome pixels and copy-of-a-copy xerographic grime there’s plenty stuff left to the imagination but nonetheless you can’t escape the ridiculous appeal of the catchy bubblegum pop nuggets buried in there.
Always a welcome kickass affair, new material by Jake Sprecher of Terry Malts fame and his current band/project The Wind-Ups, which went off with a bang in 2021 with the incredible Try Not To Think LP and has since then not changed a whole lot but also never disappointed – a constant, reliable level of quality that persists through their third longplayer too, still making it hard not to be instantly enchanted by their timeless garage rock and bubblegum pop compositions taking on a delightfully rustic and fuzz-laden sonic form of blown-out noise pop and garage punk.
