I like to fool myself into thinking that i actually don’t have much a natural inclination towards raving fanboy-isms and try to avoid these kind of things here as good as i can, but this is one of the rare occasions where i’m just plainly unable to contain my euphoria for such a singular group that has sent such insane waves through the garage punk scene and basically set new benchmarks for catchy pop tunes with a deep and unique sense of melancholy, and all that that after the group’s Jeff Burke and Mark Ryan had previously already established themselves as invaluable garage punk luminaries by fronting another essential genre mainstay, The Marked Men. Right from the start, Time Won’t Bring Me Down strikes me as yet another instant classic of the ultra-classic Radioactivity school and Watch Me Bleed radiates that same familiar and unique feel before This One Time slows things down for the first time and sets the tone for much of what’s to come on this record, which more than ever leans into the group’s calmer, moodier side and an almost classic power pop vibe that in parts should feel familiar already to those acquainted with the Jeff Burke-penned tunes on the two Lost Balloons LPs while there’s still enough high energy rockin’ out goin’ on to also please all fans of previous Radioactivity records. Now, for most lesser groups, going slow for much of an album is usually a bad idea and a recipe for boredom and it truly takes some superior capabilities in songwriting and arrangement to pull that shit off successfully. Well, cue Jeff Burke, one of the the most accomplished songwriters of the punk scene alive today, whose unreal craftsmanship never falters even once on what might actually be the greatest Radioactivity record to date. But honestly, in a discography as immaculate as theirs, it’s actually kinda futile trying to pick a favorite.
A ridiculously impressive debut LP from this Tokyo-based group that unleashes a perfect storm of melodic but equally prouplsive noise pop and garage punk with an unpredictable, freewheeling creative energy at its core with no two songs sounding quite alike but everything feels as if made of one piece nonetheless, cycling through nine iterations of catchy noise that kinda alternates between the more straightforward sonic spaces of, say, Dark Thoughts, Sonic Avenues, Bad Sports or early Terry Malts on one hand and the way more incalculable and freakish bursts of melodic ruckus most recently heard from Eye Ball and The Dumpies on the other side of that equation.
Incredible debut EP by a London group fronted by Chubby (of Chubby and the Gang fame of course), whose vocals are probably the thing most reminiscent of his old band here, as the rustic Oi!-aesthetics – while still subtly present here like a faint background hum – give way to a somewhat more polished and vibrant but in no way less vigorous sound that feels like an ultra-compact encapsulation of various greatness in the melodic punk, power- and noise pop world both past and present, spanning from classic Hüsker Dü-ish vibes, over the instant catchyness of noise poppers Terry Malts and the most recent Dumpies and Eye Ball releases, to the strong melancholic touches of peak-era Leatherface or (Royal Headache-) Shogun’s recent groups Antenna and Finnogun’s Wake. Potent shit, can’t wait for more of that!
Beats me what being particularly “motorcycle” is supposed to entail (having two wheels and a motor and drinking gasoline i think…) but i can say with more confidence that i like Heather The Jerk tunes a lot better when they’re very motorcycle than when they’re not so much, as this this new EP has been the missing data point for me to determine as much from its fuzzy little bubblegum-infused garage punk- and noise pop gems that come across like a mixture between the only great pop punk group in the world – i’m speaking of Fastbacks, of course – and the eighties noise-/fuzz pop masterpieces of early The Primitives singles, helped along in no small part by an impeccable bundle of new tunes propelled forward by what’s no doubt the most eager performance we’re heard of them so far.
Weird that this apparently all-year-round halloween-themed group never entered my radar before last year’s Chumpire 247 EP, well… better late than never i guess. Their newest one delivers an even stronger set of new tunes that sound like an unlikely crossbreed of classic Spits, Why Bother?, Trauma Harness, Woolen Men in power pop mode and maybe even a slight hint of Hüsker Dü. Crazy deformed little creature that is, but miraculously it doesn’t face any problems walking and singing and standing on its own three feet of varying length without falling over even once.
I wasn’t entirely sold on the novelty-rocker vibes of the bluesy, hard-/dad-rockin’ preview tune Hairy Man, but damn, does this new record not only get better from there on (plus, Hairy Man does work a lot better in the album context too), but there’s also easily some of the groups best material to be found on here with the following tracks Beef and Fire having plenty of an oldschool Useless Eaters and Pow! feel to them while Out Of Touch gradually dials up the levels of psychedelic haze that we’ve known at its most pronounced from their previous Perspex LP, before Hell (or rather, the first part thereof) finally kicks open the floodgates of catchy-as-fuck garage punk/fuzz pop goodness as we all know pretty much any Electric Prawns 2 record eventually does. The second circle of Hell (or maybe they’re better understood as two seperate songs, both called Hell?) takes all of the above and imbues it with a slightly campy goth note not unlike more recent Powerplant. Other notable highlights are the burst of ultra-classic aussie rock’n’roll that is Piece of Me and the in equal measure melodic and blues-infused bubblegum vibes of Waste, all of it arguably making for their overall strongest record so far. Who would’ve thought, making albums of conventional length may not be the worst idea after all!
The second LP of Minnesota’s Yuasa-Exide starts off with a thrusting burst of fuzzed-out catchy mid-tempo punk channeling a mix of mid-fi era Guided By Voices, the more power pop-ish ends of the Bevis Frond universe and a slight hint of Eric’s Trip or classic-era Dinosaur Jr. to boot in the opening track The Picture You Painted, just to increasingly and deliberately destabilize the sonic landscape on subsequent tracks. Their tunes and arrangements based somewhere inbetween the realms of ’80s to ’90s indie- and college rock, Flying Nun Records-style psychedelia and busy C86-ish strummery gain a more shambolic, hazy and surreal quality, always in acute danger of falling apart at the seams. Yet, quite wondrously, the looming sword of damocles never seems to strike, the tunes somehow always maintain their fragile equilibrium. The ability to pull that shit off already kinda struck me as their superpower on the previous Hyper At The Gates Of Dawn LP released earlier this year and i think it holds even more true here, a rare quality i previously found in early works by the likes of Rat Columns and The Molds over a decade ago and, maybe, the comparatively straightforward Psych Pop nuggets of Blank Realm’s 2014 Grassed In LP which, then again, brings us back full circle on the aforementioned Flying Nun vibes.
Ever since i first stuck my nose in their immense output sometime last year, New Jersey group Monda have proven their worth as not only one of the most productive, but also most consistent purveyors of catchy and fuzzed-out delicacies sitting somewhere inbetween garage punk, oldschool indie rock, noise- and power pop. One other thing you’re quickly gonna notice about them is that they really like to rearrange the sonic furniture a bit between releases to keep things fresh and exciting which, among other things, has led to a heavily spaced-out, psychedelic-leaning stretch in their discography most noticeable in and around 2024’s Ponderous Leviathan LP. Their newest one now sees them kinda going back to the basics and once again they’re getting all of them so fucking right, channelling some pronounced ’50s-’60s bubblegum pop vibes just as much as ‘eighties Flying Nun and Sarah Records-type art-/indie pop artifacts and various C86-style oddities in a flawless string of strikingly simple but lovingly crafted new tunes that just hit their marks dead-on without exception.
Gripper from Philadelphia have crafted a delightful debut EP here that in a way channels all of the unabashedly hard-rockin’ fun and power pop hooks of the early Sheer Mag singles, leaving out most of the southern rock flourishes but getting all the basics right in a flawles set of two incredibly infectious and catchy pop nuggets and two equally rippin’ and appropriately sleazed-up garage punk gems.
First-rate new catchy garage punk shit from Sydney that cycles through quite a few different styles in its four songs with POSIWID and the opening tune What A Time To Be Alive coming across a bit like a mix between the fuzzy power pop of Sex Mex and the quirky synth-enhanced egg-ish action of Ghoulies while the synth punk of The Game recalls oldschool Digital Leather material and more recent stuff like Spyroids and O-D-EX. The closing track B-52’s Tattoo on the other hand sounds like something right out of the warped mind of Texas garage punk eccentric Trashdog. Oh wait, there’s yet another dog band i’m thinking of here… Oh right, that’s Melbourne’s wonderfully trashy garage-/synth punk explosion Metdog!
