What’s there left to say about, like, the only german-language band that matters right now pretty much? The guilty conscience of german DIY punk has released yet another batch of excellent and excentric new tracks in their one-of-a-kind fusion of equally pissed and quirky post-, garage- and synth punk, unceremoniously dumped on Bandcamp as has always kinda been their modus operandi, but also slated for a vinyl release via Phantom Records pretty fucking soon™.
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The second EP by Berlin duo Lohn Der Angst is pretty much a seamless continuation, if gradually refined, of what we’ve heard on their first cassette already which is a glorious celebration of repetitive synth punk that on one hand distills the core ingredients of Screamers, Units, Visitors, Nervous Gender, Minimal Man or the unavoidable DAF down to their bones, while also having a constant kraut-y motorik foundation to them over which the spirit of Conny Plank looms large, all of it consolidating into some weird sort of alternate-universe krautrock Suicide.
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The New York group follows up on their brilliant 2023 demo with a no less exciting new digital single whose two songs are hardly enough to satisfy my thirst for more of their melancholia-soaked post punk blown-up into a wide open landscape of delicate and complex structural foundations under a rich surface layer saturated with colorful, shimmering texture and detail. Just as on their demo, the closest comparison i can come up with is NYC’s very own post punk sensation Straw Man Army but there’s more than that going on here, especially in the second track Onde Eu Estou? which is carving out its own path forward with a folky undertone kinda reminiscent of both oldschool Angst and more recent NZ group Trust Punks or their Berlin-based quasi-successor Dead Finks.
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.
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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.
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It may sound a bit underwhelming on paper what this Melbourne group does on their newest EP, which is a classic brand of new wave-ish post punk seemingly drawing much inspiration from some of the usual suspects such as early Siouxsie, Pylon, XTC, Delta 5 and Gang of Four, but this shit certainly gets elevated by their raw ability at crafting equally catchy, elaborate and carefully balanced tunes of their own, which most obviously will evoke comparisons to fairly recent acts of the Sweeping Promises, The Missed, Marcel Wave and Display Homes kind but i’d also say there’s some of the creative chaos and big-screen drama of early Protomartyr in there, most notbly in …In Ruins, while the melodic closing track A Fireplace evokes the melancholia of that very same group’s later material.
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This is some top-notch, stimulating new shit on the full-length debut of this Raleigh, North Carolina group, hovering somewhere around the rough coordinates of noise-infused post-, garage- and synth Punk. Grim and furious throughout but nonetheless filled to the brim with catchy hooks, this stuff positively reminds me of such respectable forces as Freak Genes, Isotope Soap, Broken Prayer, Powerplant, Kerozine, Cthtr, Beef and S.B.F..
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The two preceding digital Singles TV DVD and Frontier Days sure did a great job at making me eager to finally hear the debut EP by this group from… somewhere and it turns out these tracks aren’t even the strongest this record has to offer! Granted, the egg-ish post punk of the former and the psychedelic garage stylings of the latter still very much hold their own but are certainly just a slight notch below the fluffy power-/fuzz pop of Time To Spare, the catchy garage punk propulsion of Funny Feeling and the sparkling, melancholy Lost Sounds-isms of the closing tune Suggestions. Yup, every song on this is a fucking hit.
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The debut EP of this NYC dude is drenched in the weirdest of eccentricities from start to finish and reeks of the more insane branches of early hardcore punk and proto-noise rock á la Flipper and Broken Talent, combined with tons of random early eighties cassette culture artifacts from that age of untamed creativity that just didn’t give a fuck ‘cos few people were listening anyway. Also at play here is some sort of cowpunk vibe most notably in the double attack of The Carnal Boogie and No Singing No Dancing, some bananas flashes of rockabilly and ’50s bubblegum pop in The Night Is Here and Four Kinds Of Lonely. This shit is off the rails and it’s a beauty to behold.
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The follow-up LP to the unwieldy two hours, 69 tracks long 2023 opus Prawn Static For Porn Addicts by Moffat Beach, Australia group Electric Prawns 2 is yet again a quite generous affair in the context of the current garage-/eggpunk-adjacent wave, spanning 15 kinda eclectic, genre-hopping tunes that once again prove the impossible-to-contain, wildly creative drive of this group. The opening track Reaction sparkles with that vaguely familiar vibe of neon-glow psychedelia you might expect of a Mononegatives or Pow! record, plus a hint of Isotope Soap, maybe? What follows then is a nonstop fireworks of all-killer-no-filler tunes showcasing a great stylistic variety and, at one point or another, reminding me of a bunch of like-minded groups á la Ghoulies, Billiam, Nick Normal, Alien Nosejob, Erik Nervous or Busted Head Racket, to name just a few. The most incredible thing about this record comes right at the end though, in the form of the closing track Who I Am in which a sense of widescreen drama akin to The Wipers’ Youth Of America or God’s garage one hit wonderMy Pal gets condensed into an ultra-compact hook-fest á la Split System. Holy fuck, what just happened there?!
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