Where the average group in the 12XU-related spectrum tends to become ever more elaborate until the point where they start to suck (well, if they make it that long…), Seattle group The Unfit seem to go the opposite route, becoming more stripped down and primitive until they’re probably gonna suck at some point as well. Presently, they’re far from having reached that stage though and this shit works out marvelously even if – or maybe just because – more than once, their fuzzy garage- and post punk tunes get boiled down to sort of a Feedtime-esque level of monotonous repetition and simplicity.
This Minneapolis group runs an interesting gamut on their newest EP ranging from the punchy fuzz punk attack of Like A Dream? over the math- and noise rock infused post punk of Yeehaw! to the comparatively straightforward garage punk of Saved, while the closing track 5678 branches out into some kind of a hazy space rock jam. At different points i’m reminded of groups as diverse as early Rolex, Cutie, Shark Toys, Reality Group, The Cowboy and Big Bopper.
The successor to these Melbourne punks’ excellent car-themed EP from past December has them considerably streamlining and improving the structural foundation of their songs while also diversifying their musical spectrum, giving them a more post punk-ish feel overall yet this is also the most noisy and concentrated attack we’ve heard of them so far, which even holds true in the case of the midtempo post punk jam TV Screen, while closing track Tough Cunt still closes things out with a bit of hardcore energy akin to their previous material. Anyway, i’m reminded of so much goodness of the last decade-plus by the likes of Romance, Vexx, Cel Ray, Gen Pop, Warp, Downtown Boys, Fugitive Bubble and Warm Bodies just to name a few… plus maybe just a hint of old aussie noise rock / post punk greats Fungus Brains? Yeah, this is some highly combustible shit for sure!
Wow, now that’s is one marvellous debut EP by this Philadelphia group dealing in a kind of earthy, dissonant and eccentric, yet equally graceful blend of art- and post punk. The monotonous no wave-ish strumming of the opening track The Shield calls to mind the minimalism of Shop Regulars or Honey Bucket while Green Man has more of an early eighties The Fall vibe with further commonalities to, say, fellow philadelphians Toe Ring and B.E.E.F. 39X. The vicious grooves of Gangstalker, holding a delicate balance of dissonance and catchyness, are then approximately channeling some more spiky version of Lithics coupled with some dissonant Glenn Branca- and eighties Sonic Youth guitar work, a bit like we’ve more recently heard from Self Improvement, for example.
The successor to last year’s kickass second EP of this Cincinnati, Ohio group makes no attempt at fixing what ain’t broken and instead delivers four new blows of that very same awesomness incorporating elements of noise rock, post-, garage- and synth punk with various bits and pieces reminding me of the likes of Busted Head Racket, Brandy, R.Clown, ISS, Spyroids and Knowso, De()t, Toy Brigade or Nervous Tick and the Zipper Lips.
Having already tasted some of their new LP in the form of a perfect teaser EP a couple weeks ago, we finally get to hear the full debut LP by the dungeon punk wizards of Karlsruhe, Germany and oh boy, we’re in for a fucking treat that combines a couple of new recordings of tunes already heard on their 2023 demo with plenty of equally strong new material into a breathless thrill ride that’s further helped along by a perfectly fitting and outright filthy lo-to-mid-fi production that sounds as if the whole thing had been recorded in some fucking parking garage. There’s tons of sparkly psychedelia to the garage rock of the opening track Locket, a primitive proto punk punch and simplicity in Tear it Up while tracks such as As Loud As Me and My Dawn lighten things up with unexpected flashes of melodicism, the latter of the two having a distinct vibe of early The Men to itself. Contrast to that the hardcore-meets-motörpunk attacks of Give Me Beat and All This Heat, the oldschool Sabbath leftovers fused with the space rock abandon of late Destruction Unit in Supression, which is simultaneously being embedded into some vague post punk context á la Nag. The dungeon punk hymn Fomo Boy remains every bit a destructive force as we’ve already gleaned from the demo and the new track Inte Mer Hem following that one has much of the same momentum and qualities. Fuck me, this thing slaps.
The Minneapolis group’s debut EP bursts onto the scene with a fully formed and -realized vision, dabbling in a lovingly oldschool and timeless set of flashbacks to the more left-field staples of ’80s-’90s US postcore and -punk. Lap It Up kicks things off with some kind of ’90s AmRep-meets-Touch&Go pastiche, then suddenly develops into more of a Dischord-like soundscape most reminiscent of Rites Of Spring and early Nation Of Ulysses. In Untitled / Back Inside, the likes of Mission Of Burma, Wipers, Moving Targets and Volcano Suns loom large in addition to some overtones of Bitch Magnet… before eventually seguing into some Angst- and Dinosaur Jr.-esque folk-ish strumming. Freak Disease then gets wedged inbetween grungy ’90s alternative- or even outright cock rock territory and some postcore flourishes you rather might expect at the slow end of the Drive Like Jehu, Jawbox or ’90s Gray Matter spectrum. Life Takes Time then has more of that distinct Burma vibe but i also can’t help but be reminded of Really Red and Saccharine Trust.
What started out as a duo fronted by Corey Plumb of Spray Paint fame has now grown into a fully fledged band lineup and accordingly, this new LP marks a further step towards a more airy and organic sound aesthetic for the group, which at this point also sounds the most reminiscent so far of his previous Spray Paint work, especially of their later, heavily electronic-leaning phase. That said, this is far from being a lazy retread of times past, as his trademark dissonant guitar work on here blends in a uniquely natural way with a plethora of pulsating sound both organic and electronic, which on one hand have a distinctly industrial feel to them while quite paradoxically retaining a surprisingly playful and warm quality throughout.
Even in the face of pretty much anything that loose collective of musicians gathered around the New York label Decoherence Records has done so far, Gay Cum Daddies still stuck out as one of its most baffling agents of chaos and mischief. In a way, their newest LP is almost what you’d expect of this group at this point, an unwieldy bastard made of atonal and chaotic, no-wave-ish noise that, despite all the clutter and cacophony, never seems random. More than ever before, i get a sense of this group being totally in control of their craft at all times, their nerve-racking jams never leaving a trace of doubt that these dudes do indeed have a master plan. A weird, convoluted and disjointed one for sure, but a plan nonetheless. Once you’ve re-wired your brain to almost make sense of it, it feels like the most transgressive and shocking thing ever when Ribboning Boulder Hands Over Data actually has a discernible 4/4 beat playing for, like, a whole 30 seconds.
Brandon Monkey Fingers of St. John’s, Canada feel kinda out of place in this day and age and y’all know i’m a sucker for that kind of shit. Their debut album covers a sonic range somewhere inbetween oldschool fuzz punk, ’80s and ’90s (proto-) grunge and indie rock seasoned with just a hint of sludge-y Amphetamine Reptile-style noise rock flourishes. Among the old guard, you might consider U-Men and early Mudhoney among their spiritual ancestors or the rougher ends of the Sebadoh sonic spectrum. Of more recent ocurrences, i’d name Dog Date and Hellco as possible references as well as early Pale Angels or a less melodic California X. Darth Vader’s Boner carries a similar vibe of garage-infused noise rock to The Cowboy and Flat Worms. H.M.P. sounds a bit as if contemporary noise rockers like Metz, John (timestwo), Greys or Vangas got imbued with heavy overtones of Angst-esque psych folk while Norbit has quite some Dinosaur Jr. and Cloud Nothings energy under the hood on its way to a ’90s Weezer-esque melodic conclusion.
