Quality german language garage punk sure ain't the most abundant thing around but this Ludwigsburg dude or group pulls of this unlikely marvel effortlessly on their new digital 2-track single, each tune an instant hit and future genre classic in their own right with the first one having some ever-so-subtle egg-ish quality while the vocal harmonies and guitar work remind me positively of the most recent Dumpies and Eye Ball records, while the more melancholy second tune embeds those same qualities in an overall vibe highly reminiscent of Marked Men and Radioactivity. No kidding, that's exactly how good this shit really is.
Always a welcome kickass affair, new material by Jake Sprecher of Terry Malts fame and his current band/project The Wind-Ups, which went off with a bang in 2021 with the incredible Try Not To Think LP and has since then not changed a whole lot but also never disappointed - a constant, reliable level of quality that persists through their third longplayer too, still making it hard not to be instantly enchanted by their timeless garage rock and bubblegum pop compositions taking on a delightfully rustic and fuzz-laden sonic form of blown-out noise pop and garage punk.
This group from Santa Cruz, California delivers six neat little calorie bombs made of oldschool Power Pop excellence, flawlessly executing a simple old formula that could actually have occured at any time in the past five decades and wouldn't feel out of place in any of these multiple eras, while their way-above-average songwriting powers never falter even for a second. Even if at times i can't help but feel like i've heard these songs many times before, this is one of those instances where i'm perfectly content with coming off as a kinda basic bitch as far as quality rock'n'roll is concerned.
This Montreal group's spectacular debut EP pulls off a pretty neat trick and does so flawlessly and at exactly the right time in our collective cultural consciousness. Ultra-catchy punk rock kinda bridging the gap between classic eighties acts like mid-career Hüsker Dü, Dinosaur Jr., Dag Nasty, Embrace or the later works of Naked Raygun and Government Issue on one hand; previous-decade noisy punk and indie rock groups á la earky Milk Music, Kicking Spit, California X, Milked and Happy Diving on the other, gets blended here with flourishes of decidedly '80s-sounding heavy metal shredding and solo-ing which, in tandem with the heavily dungeon-themed artwork, is sure gonna strike a chord with friends of Steröid or Poison Ruïn, with this shit at times coming across a bit like a catchier, immediably approachable spin on the latter group's work so far.
Portland's Yacht Fire absolutely killed it with last year's self-titled debut EP of cool-as-fuck DIY fuzzed-out garage punk that alternated between quite catchy and utterly abrasive tunes. The successor now transports the same awesomeness while slightly expanding on the folk-ish vibes already subtly present on the first EP, now taking center stage most notably in Run and Kiss Off, while Nod and Cigarettes are punchy no-frills bursts of simple and effective fuzz punk mayhem and the closing tune Werewolf keeps hitting hard too with a bit of a Wipers-meet-Dead Moon vibe. This is yet another all-killer record by a band you should absolutely keep a eye on!
Toronto group Eye Ball had made myself - and probably everyone else listening - hungry for more of their shit with their two digital 2-track singles last year, which then got compiled into a four-track tape pretty soon after that. Now we get their first full LP worth of material and the previous comparisons to the likes of Marked Men, Radioactivity, Sonic Avenues and maybe early Sweet Reaper still hold mostly true, but there's so much more going on here too with most of these tunes having a lot more grit and a rougher edge to them, a more determined attack. Don't worry, there's still plenty of hooks and melodies to go around and the thing is packed with hits, but you know something's cooking when right out of the gate the album greets us with a pretty hardcore-ish title tune and subsequently, sometimes seems to channel the the vigorous thrust of previous-decade garage punk acts like Sauna Youth and early Tyvek. The one-two punch consisting of Road Pig and Bruise for a Birthmark almost has a bit of a Cruelster-esque energy and of even more recent stuff, these sogs had me thinking of The Dumpies a lot. Quality shit, no doubt!
Three incredible tracks dumped on bandcamp over the course of the past one-and-a-half years made us hungry for more tunes of this Melbourne group and i'm pleased to say that this new probably-not-quite-an-LP's worth material (including the aforementioned singles) fulfills all of the pretty high expectations. What Steröid do to eighties Metal, this group pulls off with regards to '70s hard-, southern rock, a couple of other dad rock-ish vibes and transforms it into an only slightly egg-ish, maximally fuzzed-out aesthetic of ultra-catchy garage punk and power pop with an unusual knack for infectious guitar leads - a glorious non-stop barrage of captivating riffs, resilient hooks and stubborn earworms, in an unlikely way combining some of the traits of, say, Sheer Mag's early EPs and more recent shit by Satanic Togas.
Electric Prawns 2 of Moffat Beach, Australia are back with not just one, but two new LPs, in a way highlighting two opposing vibes that have been part of the group's stylistic DNA all along. The very deep red of the Perspex LP's artwork could already be taken as subtle signal to proceed with caution and indeed this one is more of a downer by design, the driving Useless Eaters vibes of the opener Who's Been Laying Eggs Under My Skin? giving way to an increasingly bleak sounding make of psychedelic garage rock that oscillates somewhere inbetween deep sadness and outright bad trip territory, up in space as much as miles underwater and always aware of the fact that both space and the deep ocean are utterly inhospitable places and only a thick steel wall is preventing your body from instantly getting reduced into half a bathtub worth of reddish goo. Feeling awesome about your fragile existence already? Don't worry 'cos i've only told you half the truth so far, with (the so far only imaginary) side B of the record kinda staying in a vintage psychedelia realm but focusing on the much more uplifting parts of that whole affair, so sunny that you're gonna have flowers growing out of your ass in no time. The Heavy Shitters LP then is a lot closer to the friendlier, instantly recognizable vibe that has dominated much of their previous work and just wants to play and fuck around and rock out and crack lots of stupid fart jokes. Many of the record's biggest hits are saved for the second half and especially the marvellous six-song spree going from Sick to Farted In Her Sleep is the kind of thing a lesser group would fucking kill for.
That Evinspragg record has garnered the most publicity of the newest Inscrutable Records batch for several reasons, some of them justifiable, others more annoyingly drama-related. But to be perfectly honest, that one is a bit too ambitious for its own good in my humble opinion and a bit of a mixed bag which starts out incredibly strong, then kinda fizzles out towards the end and i actually feel much more drawn towards the label's other two releases among which is this full-length debut by Johnny Skin. On it, they create a dreamy, melancholy and super-catchy melange blending the yearning vibe of '50s-'60s bubblegum pop ballads with rudimetary, minimalist lo-fi vintage electronic drum beats and synths in a fashion that's gonna draw inevitable comparisons to Suicide and Métal Urbain, interspersed with a bunch of more noisy and dissonant no wave-ish tunes more in the vein of noisy synth punk pioneers á la Primitive Calculators or Nervous Gender and the experimental, psychedelic sounds of Theoretical Girls, Chrome or MX-80.
I somehow skipped over the previous Monda LP here so i take this newest EP as an opportunity to remind you that this Totowa, New Jersey dude is still around and doing cool shit all along the way, with his newest one being the most catchy and straightforward release in a while, consisting of five undeniable earworms between the rough coordinates of oldschool indie rock, garage punk and power pop that more often than not radiates a melancholy, dreamy atmosphere. High quality shit as usual, this time around reminding me quite a bit of Cincinnati power pop overlords Vacation.
