Manchester’s Gold Cup have already accumulated a number of notable EPs over the past couple years but in my book they really struck yellow for the first time with their newest golden shower of hits that is their fourth EP, walliowing in a sleazed-up hard-rockin’ garage punk sound that seems to channel kind of a Golden Pelicans energy while in tunes like opener Zero Percent and closing tune King Crab, they refine the formula with faint echoes of oldschool AmRep-Style noise rock and a subtle hint of 90s postcore. Stuck On Repeat on the other hand is a catchy-as-hell borderline powerpop-ish tune of the highest caliber and The Piss Has Been Taken reminds me of another quite yellow jet of a band, Australia’s own Pist Idiots.
Two years after their super fun debut EP, Philadelphia’s cleanest finally present us with their first LP which doubles down on the chaotic energy of their disjointed art punk that sits comfortably between the chairs of dissonant, oldschool no wave-ish noise, artcore elements akin to early Minutemen and also plenty of more recent phenomena from artsy post punk groups like Patti, Reality Group and Brandy to more postcore-leaning acts like Big Bopper, Cutie, Mystic Inane and Rolex. And i gotta say, their math-y convoluted sound does a pretty decent job of approximating the mental overload and challenge the task of cleaning up the cave presents to my ADHD-cluttered, probably mildly autistic brain… but they sure make it sound like the most fun activity in the world.
This Melbourne group’s third EP has five new outbursts of post punk for us that i wouldn’t exactly call surprising or innovative but it gets all the basics right, is competent and well put together while holding a neat balance alternating between cold, clinical tension and warmer, melodic relief in their confident and actually quite varied songwriting, frequently reminding me of shit á la Girls In Synthesis, Corker, Criminal Code, Rank/Xerox, Negative Space, Shepparton Airplane, Batpiss or Bench Press.
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.
As you may have noticed, i have an unhealthy habit of comparing lots of bands to Saccharine Trust, some of whom may have never listened to Saccharine Trust to begin with. Now here’s a group actually confessing to that specific influence for a change, refreshing! The music of these Hungarians doesn’t disappoint either, their debut LP having a bit of an oldschool anarcho bent to itself and plenty of a Drive Like Jehu energy to boot, a touch of Big Black in Általános Életkrízis Magyarországon and glittering Sonic Youth-Style guitar textures all throughout with further similarities to more recent post punk phenomena like Straw Man Army, Marbled Eye, Institute and Corker. Best of all, their sound is bolstered by plenty of substance, their compositions being held together by smart, rock-solid craftsmanship and wise sonic construction.
I didn’t expect the latest LP of this Portsmouth, New Hampshire group to hit this hard – what an impressive qualitative leap from pretty much anything they’ve done before! Right out of the gate the opener Brain Feeder establishes a propulsive force in which weighty grooves and glittering melodic textures collide in a mix of post-, garage punk and a slight hint of postcore. For the remainder of the record, the formula gets further explored and expanded upon and their driving energy certainly gets plenty of reinforcement out of deliberate build-ups and carefully set-up dramaturgy in their sometimes rather simple but oftentimes quite intricate, always perfectly balanced song architectures.
Melbourne group Shepparton Airplane first caught my ear when they exploded right into my face with their 2018 sophomore LP Almurta, then quickly followed by a 2020 album that just didn’t hit quite as hard for me – ambitious, sure, but also feeling kinda forced, like it’s just been trying a bit too hard. After a radio silence of five years, just when the group had basically dropped off my radar, whe unexpectedly get to witness what is without doubt their most mature, accomplished record to date. Now their sound somewhere inbetween the realms of post punk, noise rock and postcore has always felt a bit old-fashioned, more comfortably fitting in the late 2000s to late-2010s, but that’s also part of their charm, delightfully oldschool i’ll say and certainly in the same league with some of the best groups said era had to offer like Sleepies, Bench Press, Diät, Batpiss, Rank/Xerox, the early works of USA Nails, Protomartyr and Gotobeds to name just a few… yeah even a slight vibe of Open Your Heart-era The Men may be hidden there in tunes like Stereo Youth. Anyway, each song on here is an elaborate, self-contained post punk drama taking its sweet time to unfold but never failing to lead straight into a rich and spectacular payoff.
Philadelphia’s TVO already stuck out from the pack on their previous EPs with a make of post- and garage punk that seemed to take uncommon inspiration from a number of groups of the proto-grunge and proto-noise rock era with clear echoes of U-Men, Scientists, early Mudhoney, Feedtime, Fungus Brains, Scratch Acid and X (AUS), to name just a few of the usual suspects. Their new full length debut still has all of the same goodness on board while also gradually steering their ship into a somewhat unexpected direction by drenching their songs in a generous helping somewhat sleazed-up, bluesy rock’n’roll and what can i say, without exception they deliver the songs and tight-ass performances here to make the shit stick and indeed these tunes are a marked jump forward for the group, showcasing an exceptionally tight grip on their always dead-on songwriting skills.
Digital Hotdogs brings us the newest crime of Austin, Texas cowpunk wrecking crew Leche which, way more than any of their previous works, reminds me quite a bit of another Digital Hotdogs mainstay, Trashdog, not so much in terms of their actual sound and more in their hyperactive, disjointed anything-goes approach dismissing or subverting any established rules and conceptions of genre, structure, continuity, reality itself… so yeah this is yet another glorious genre-bending, fragmented mess that can feel like a bit too much of everything at times. But once you filtered your way thruough all the stuff, there’s a really neat single LP hidden in this seemingly indiscriminate dump of a double LP’s worth of material. This is maybe not so much (Trashdog’s) Weezer’s Blue Album and more (Leche’s) The Beatles’ White Album – a bit too long, kinda messy, in seemingly random sequence and it shouldn’t be judged by its weakest parts.
A pretty fucking stunning debut LP from an Alamance, North Carolina duo excelling in a hazy and hypnotic mixture of noise rock, post punk, oldschool indie rock and the darkest alleys of the americana spectrum. The latter tendency often come across like a more vicious and propulsive take on the muddy southern gothic charm of (quite paradoxically) NYC based group Weak Signal but also, at certain points, you may find traces of the blues-y proto-noise rock of Feedtime and Scratch Acid, the swamp rock of eighties Scientists. The overarching melancholy of the whole affair then again reminds me of somewhat indie rock-leaning groups like Australia’s Kitchen’s Floor, Treehouse and earlier stuff of London’s Witching Waves on one hand, the moody, eccentric post punk of acts like Auckland/Berlin-based groups Trust Punks, Dead Finks on the other, with further similarities to the deep abysses of Atlanta’s Uniform, Glittering Insects, Mother’s Milk or the folk-ish Angst- and Meat Puppets-indebted neo-proto-grunge of Bellingham, Washington group Pig Earth and Madison, Wisconsin’s Dharma Dogs. All of that is being rolled expertly into ten all-killer-no-filler widescreen melodramas here with perfect sonic architectures marked by super effective buildups and payoffs.
