This spectacular new split LP finally brings us new material of two Los Angeles Groups - both of 'em stubbornly refusing to conform to the established rules and conventions of hardcore punk - after a couple years lacking any "proper" release from both groups.
Rolex come across as powerful as ever in their unpredictable and inventive-as-fuck postcore attacks which on one hand contain echoes of a couple of fairly recent acts like Mystic Inane, Big Bopper, Brandy, Launcher and early Patti, while also being moderately indebted to the likes of Minutemen, Dicks and early Saccharine Trust (whose first LP Surviving You, Always is in desperate need for a reissue goddammit… a criminally overlooked classic of early postcore, years ahead of the curve if you ask me). Add to that occasional flashes of cowpunk, infused with some Lumpy & The Dumpers-style mayhem channeled into an off-the-rails vocal performance and the result is pure weirdcore bliss, leaving no doubt they remain the rightful rulers of their particular subgenre for now.
Grimly Forming's side then mounts a way rougher, yet no less smart and unconventional attack on the senses, counterbalancing unrelenting force with plenty of elaborate structures to build on and a healthy dose of garage-y undercurrent to keep things going smooth and fun all the way through.
File under: Poison Ruïn and their aftermath… Unsheather from Bellingham, Washington tackle the aesthetics of endless struggle facilitated by heavy armor and weaponry from much more of a raw hardcore angle - less epic and way more primitive and unpolished, which is probably a good strategic starting point anyway in this still kinda early phase of the ongoing dungeon punk saga as the eleborate atmospheric epics of genre's supreme overlords will sure take a good while to find a worthy challenger. Until then, i'm glad to savor any bit of grim, medieval-themed axe-wielding fun along the way and Unsheather are an excellent choice for that!
This Los Angeles group confidently kicks up an absolutely respectable fuzz utilizing rather modest means. These five rippers sound a bit like what i'd imagine it would be like if you infused a more dumbed-down variant of the earthy and noisy post-/garage punk hybrids of The Cowboy or Flat Worms with a good deal of Gun Club- and Feedtime-esque blues- and cowpunk. The result, as you might've figured already, doesn't add anything new to the mix but still manages the hit the sweet spot every single time.
It took them over five years to follow up on their excellent debut EP from 2019, but at long last here it is, the first LP by Sydney's Negative Gears, on which they present an even more pitch-black, stone-cold vision than before, funneled into significantly matured and refined compositions and arrangements. Comparisons to US groups like early Institute, Rank/Xerox, Criminal Code and Nag still apply, kind of… but also i can sense some kinship with the widescreen drama of berlin-based duo Dead Finks and its sort-of precursor group, New Zeeland's Trust Punks. Then again, songs like the opening track Negative Gear and Pills carry some of the hallmarks of british post punk powerhouses like Girls In Synthesis and Sievehead while in calmer moments like Ants and Zoned, a melancholia and elegance reminiscent of recent Marbled Eye or Tube Alloys shines through.
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.
Furious anarcho punk from London that refuses to be neatly filed away in a single genre crate, which is always the most thrilling kind of punk shit anyway. Recorded at New York's D4MT Labs, this does indeed share some of the hallmarks of that particular place's most well known export Kaleidoscope and, to a lesser extent, Straw Man Army, while also exposing some overtones of the wider left-field ambitious hardcore spectrum with the likes of early Bad Breeding, Acrylics and Daydream being some of the names coming to mind at first glance.
Following an intoxicatingly strong debut EP last summer, the follow-up by french psychedelic rock wizard Remy Pablo delivers more of that same overwhelming goodness stubbornly executing its very own notion of pulsating loops and blown-out drones at the intersections of psych- and space rock, post-, art-, proto- and garage punk with more than just a little of an MX-80-, Chrome- and Métal Urbain vibe to it.
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.
Excellent debut EP from this San Antonio, Texas group setting off seven blasts of pitch-black yet very much refined post punk. While the opening Track Progress Trap sounds to me as if the garage/noise rock/post punk hybrids of Flat Worms and The Cowboy were being fused to a bit of The Spits or Lost Sounds, the record subsequently settles into an ever slightly shifting aesthetic reminding me of numerous greats of contemporary post punk like Nag, Predator, VR Sex, Tube Alloys, Rank/Xerox, Public Interest and the early works of Institute, Diät und Marbled Eye. While this surely ain't the apex of originality at this point in time, the group knows how to keep things moving and interesting throughout and most of the time these songs are every bit as good as any of the aforementioned acts.
This Sydney group already stirred up some waves not too long ago with a pair of strong EPs and this newest one is their finest one yet, operating in a golden zone between garage-/synth-/post- and psych punk that kinda bridges the gap between the garage-/post punk melancholia of weird outliers like Die TV and DBR, the garage primitivism of shit á la Buck Biloxi, Giorgio Murderer and the spaced-out psychedelic expanse of Zoids, Mononegatives, Mateo Manic, Silicon Heartbeat, Pow!, Cthtr or even some stretches of Electric Prawns 2's monumental '23 album Prawn Static For Porn Addicts.
