The debut EP of this San Francisco group sets off eight unapologetically oldschool, blown-out Garage Punk blasts that often come across as almost a bit too basic at first glance but never fail to conjure a massive smile onto my face whenever they competently shred their way through their inevitable and obscenely satisfying climaxes with workmanlike ease. Whenever you’re craving for the simpler joys of some sleazy-ass rock’n’roll, this record just perfectly fits the bill. Nothing more, nothing less.
On the excellent demo tape by this group from Shrewsbury, UK, proto- meets garage punk and occasional flashes of NWOBHM-style solos, Stooges meet Saints meet Discharge but also plenty of more recent acts of the Punter, Puffer and Split System variety. A perfect storm of simplicity, raw energy and immediate catchyness.
A lovely and fun debut by some Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania group. The instrumental opening tune Liftoff Jam (White Boys in E) swells into a monotonous monster of psychedelic haze that sounds a bit as if MX-80 and Chrome were being fused with early The Men, only for the rest of the EP to settle into a slightly less cumbersome aesthetic of straightforward, somewhat Stooges-esque garage punk that occasionally approaches some hardcore speeds and energy levels and keeps setting itself apart by way of its subtle psychedelic overtones and a constant melodic undercurrent flowing through their catchy, oldschool garage- and proto punk stylings.
A thorougly mesmerizing load of monotonously pulsing psychedelic post punk bliss with echoes of the proto- and early art punk eras, this new cassette of Paris group Jazz V.O.S.T. comes across a bit like an unholy alliance of Métal Urbain, MX-80 and Chrome, maybe a bit of Swell Maps for good measure… or possibly even a couple of old japanese psychedelic and post punk acts like The Rabbits and early High Rise. All of this gets transferred into some vague semblance of a cold wave context while thankfully eschewing the overly mechanical, formulaic uniformity of what i might consider one of the least creative genres in recent years. No, the pulses, twitches and rumbles on this record aren’t caused by the cold rotations of some interchangeable machine but rather the joy of free expression and humanity of defiant spirits refusing to let themselves get crushed by harsh realities.
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.
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.
The second EP by this Karlsruhe, Germany group is also the first taste we’re getting of an upcoming album and just like their excellent demo tape at the end of last year, this thing combines the grimy dungeon-esque garage vibes the group obviously inherited from Thee Khai Aehm, whose members comprise half of this group’s lineup, with a distinct flourish of proto punk primitivism, plenty of spaced-out psychedelic excess á la late Destruction Unit, some hardcore energy in Tear It Up and even some melodic flourishes in My Dawn, while the closing track Inte Mer Hem is nothing short of raw and simple dungeon punk perfection.
The follow-up to last year’s sensational debut tape AN/AL by new york garage punk wizard Jean Mignon somewhat dials down the stylistic variety factor but absolutely makes up for it by considerably upping the average energy level of his straightforward punk smashers, propelled forward by an unstoppable, combustive drive with more than just a little undercurrent of proto punk in general and the ’74-’77 New York scene in particular.
Portland label Spared Flesh Records has established itself as a real treasure chest of quirky, unconventional garage- and post punk goodness over the course of just over two years and the newest cassette is no exception. Society is a solo project of Sims Hardin who you might have also heard as part of Philadelphia groups Mesh and Toe Ring. Having already made a great impression with last year’s All Flies Go To Hell EP, the second one seamlessly continues the scrappy charm of his sound hovering somewhere inbetween the strange worlds of ’80s cassette culture and other artifacts on the fringes of garage-, proto-, post- and art punk. Think of a fusion of Modern Lovers, early Mekons, The Fall and Desperate Bicycles and you’re roughly on the right track. Or you might compare them to more recent groups like the rustic jams of Honey Radar, Far Corners, Germ House and earlier Woolen Men, the proto-meets-post-punk experiments of Shark Toys and NY’s Peace de Résistance.
It’s a new LP by the Detroit group and as you might already suspect, there’s not a whole lot in the way of surprises here, which is totally fine for their particular local flavour of garage mayhem. As far as fairly traditional, heavily Stooges-/MC5-informed garage punk (and just maybe, a hint of Feedtime?) goes, it doesn’t get much better in terms of raw, primal energy. This is the kind of record which convinces almost exclusively by virtue of brute force and boy do i feel saved now, which is to say: Ouch!
