It's been over six years since we've last heard from this Bloomington, Indiana group which by now must be considered a highly influential force on the current garage-, synth- and eggpunk scene while in the meantime, members of the group have pumped their creative juices into acts like Belly Jelly, QQQL, Dummy and Big Hog. Now that they finally break the deafening silence, i gotta say this shit works better than ever in what must be the strongest set of tunes they've delivered so far. Just a tiny bit less weird and cluttered than on their previous efforts with more grounded, catchy and melodic song foundations and echoes of the likes of Tyvek, Marked Men and Lost Sounds, this is a strikingly mature work with all the hallmarks of a band that took a long break to branch out creatively in other projects, now reconvening to apply everything they've learned along the way with sleepwalking precision to an effortlessly wrecking result.
Having already released a whole ass full of nifty EPs and splits neatly fitting in with much of the the current eggpunk mold, their previous one recently marked a notable departure into a rougher, fuzzed-out aesthetic form. The newest release by this group based in Rome, Italy feels like a successful integration of both tendencies, sharing a similar quality to weirdo tunes by the likes of Die TV, Electric Prawns 2, Temporary Curse and recent Erik Nervous.
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.
No unpleasant surprises here, the newest EP of West Palm Beach, Florida group Rude Television is yet another high caliber projectile of catchy, egg-ish garage punk excellence and highly recommended for friends similar shit á la Gee Tee, Erik Nervous, Set-Top Box, Satanic Togas, Power Pants or Tommy Cossack & The Degenerators. Hell, that closing track Rat Bastard may well come to be regarded among the genre's all-time greats in retrospect.
Hyperdog have already been on my radar thanks to a neat debut LP and two not at all lousy demos, though the austrian group's formula has never clicked into place as nicely as on their newest extended play cassette via Goodbye Boozy Records. This is is fuzzy garage punk with at times uncharacteristically relaxed tempos and a glittering psychedelic surface that reminds me a lot of Beta Máximo's sparkling noise pop color splashes.
Don't let the kinda standard surf rock intro fool you 'cos what it leads into is actually a lot more exciting: Two effortlessly shredding garage punk tunes with a bit of a '77 vibe to them, filled with catchy hooks on the inside and projecting sparkling melodic textures outward, all in all reminding me a bit of early Vaguess or that kickass Wild Rose demo from 2017.
I liked what i heard earlier this year on a neat split EP this Providence, Rhode Island duo (?) did with, well... themselves mostly, under the Cindy alias. This new two-track single has more of that same goodness, opening with a perfectly competent Nerves cover and concluding with an original tune carrying some catchy vibes not entirely dissimilar to the likes of R.M.F.C., Billiam, Gonk, Shrudd, Music for Microwaves or Liquid Lunch.
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.
This long-running, slow-moving dutch group, which i've previously been blissfully ignoring, catapults itself all the more impressively onto my radar with their third and hands down most accomplished LP so far which pours some top-notch songwriting abilities into a quite adaptable sonic pastiche oscillating between oldschool, sometimes psych-leaning garage- and fuzz punk, buzzsaw noise- and power pop as well as a couple of pulsing electro punk bursts. Exactly twice they stumble in my view though, by veering too heavily into kinda sugary oh-so-fucking-twee ASMR territory but hey, ten out of 12 Songs is still quite a good hit ratio and in some of the best moments, they strike me as an alternate reality garage-y version of eighties Fastbacks.
Astoria, Oregon group The Dumpies have been around for a bit already and have been a thoroughly lovable force ever since, yet their recent split EP with Night Court (of which most songs are also included here) signaled a huge leap forward in terms of energy, stylistic diversity and songwriting potency - a promise they certainly make good on with this incredible new LP, cycling through endless iterations of power pop-infused (garage-)punk, melancholy indie rockers and also numerous attacks of straight-up hardcore punk in a single impressive burst of uncontainable creativity, crude humor and eccentricity. There's not a trace of filler to be found on this record. Every song hits home without fail.
