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.
Hyperdog have already been on my radar thanks to a neat debut LP and two not at all lousy demos, though the austrian group's formula has never clicked into place as nicely as on their newest extended play cassette via Goodbye Boozy Records. This is is fuzzy garage punk with at times uncharacteristically relaxed tempos and a glittering psychedelic surface that reminds me a lot of Beta Máximo's sparkling noise pop color splashes.
Although i still haven't dared yet to venture deeper into the kinda intimidating back catalog of Totowa, New Jersey act Monda, they have already made a lasting impression as a shapeshifting, restless creative force in constant flux over the course of this year. While this spring's Stiff Jumbo spazzed out gloriously and let its freak flag fly in short bursts of melodic noise and then, sumer's VIII saw them calm down and relax a bit, for large portions of their newest LP's I'd now say they're spacing out and i mean that in the most flattering sense. This is a fuzzy bundle of DIY space-/acid punk eccentricities that just can't hide the creative drive, human warmth, sense of wonder and curiosity behind its, admittedly, pretty fucking stoned appearance, on one hand reminding me a bit of groups like recent Mononegatives, late-era Useless Eaters, Pow! and some of the more motorik minded incarnations of The(e) O(h)Sees while other songs like I Alwys Have It Till I Need It, Chronic Embarrassment and Creek Time inhabit those same anthemic oldschool indie rock and fuzz punk qualities that made the aforementioned records so special.
This long-running, slow-moving dutch group, which i've previously been blissfully ignoring, catapults itself all the more impressively onto my radar with their third and hands down most accomplished LP so far which pours some top-notch songwriting abilities into a quite adaptable sonic pastiche oscillating between oldschool, sometimes psych-leaning garage- and fuzz punk, buzzsaw noise- and power pop as well as a couple of pulsing electro punk bursts. Exactly twice they stumble in my view though, by veering too heavily into kinda sugary oh-so-fucking-twee ASMR territory but hey, ten out of 12 Songs is still quite a good hit ratio and in some of the best moments, they strike me as an alternate reality garage-y version of eighties Fastbacks.
More brainfuck and brain fog than brainwash, this kinda baffling new EP by italian gentleman Leonardo Carlacchiani aka Purp, an immersive flood of Lo-Fi DIY noise and psychedelia hellbent of clouding and overwhelming, rather than breaking, your headspace. The opener Mind Space comes across like the anthemic folk-y power pop of Vaguess being transplanted into the blown-out fuzz pop context of fellow italians Mustard/Metal Guru or of Dadgad's most recent EP, then morphing towards a more relaxed midtempo indie rocker reminiscent of Treehouse or early Tape/Off in Labyrinthorama. Reminder Demons With Gufo Mangia Sale is pure psyched-out space blues abandon. Astral Angel sounds a bit like early Pixies slowed down to a depressing crawl with a distinct taste of '90s Chokebore. Ladybug's Ballata With Bobby Chombo pulls a kind of No-Fi My Bloody Valentine and Dinosaur Jr. pastiche through a psychedelic Flying Saucer Attack meatgrinder, followed by I-Ching sorta bridging the gap between early Japandroids and late 2000s / early 2010s noise-/fuzz pop shredders á la No Age, Wavves and Male Bonding.
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.
The newest EP by Stockholm's Kerosene Kream presents their vision at its most realized yet, largely leaving the scrappy eggpunk vibes of their previous EPs behind and moving towards a more psych-leaning variant of garage punk that constantly oscillates between a more innocent, love-and-peace-y UK-style psychedelia and a way darker, more US-centric, drugged-out acid rock sound, overall a mixture of flourishes you might suspect from groups like Pow!, Mononegatives or, very recently, Electric Prawns 2. At times the songwriting might strike you as somewhat basic as tunes like Mindkiller and Psychedelic Ranger are about as close as you can get to what you might call a "traditional" in this genre but hey, you can't argue with the results. The shit just works.
Two of the - so far at least - minor players in the current eggpunk game join forces and make a convincing case for a re-evaluation of that status as both, while not exactly reinventing the wheel here, have cleary refined their formulas quite a bit on this neat little split cassette. SPRGRS of Granada, Spain make for a great start with their quirky, pulsating and melodic take on the genre much in line with what we've heard recently from groups like Prison Affair, Beer, Paulo Vicious and Goblin Daycare. Even better though are the three new tracks by Bristol's Möney, who show some great variety and top-notch songwriting chops here, overall saturating their sound with more of a surf-y and psychedelic post punk vibe, most notably in the closing track Emancipation which calls to mind the likes of Electric Prawns 2, Checkpoint, Gremlin and Powerplant. Then again, Plastic Trees is a surprising little gem made up of glistening noise-/power-/dreampop stylings and really given a special shine by a guest vocal performance credited to a mysterious Miss Clienty.
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.
Having put out a pair of already quite impressive LPs in '22/'23, the third longplayer of this Hamilton, Ontario act really nails it this time. Following a brief ironic metal-ish intro, right out of the gate The Glove radiates a vibe of MX-80, Chrome and Metal Urbain plus just the slightest touch of The Cramps. This is some first rate fuzz-/garage-/space punk shit right here, weird enogh to keep you on your toes yet also sophisticated enough to keep you engaged, with just the right amount of ear candy sprinkled in like in Corpus Earthling Meets The Counter Culture, where a well-worn catchy standard punk riff gets the over-the top fuzz-excess treatment. Other times and especially in the first couple of tracks, there's some weird Hawkwind-goes-hair/glam metal energy going on. Just as well though, you might find similar sonic texture in a diffuse cluster of current acts such as Zoids, Thee Hearses, Monoburro, Mateo Manic, Mononegatives or Silicon Heartbeat.
