Considering the rave reactions i’ve heard so far about this Melbourne group’s shows, their good-not-great 2024 debut EP so far had convinced me that their probably incredible live sound has been struggling a bit to translate into recorded form. Well, i can certainly say that this is less of an issue for much of their new mini LP which makes an overall much stronger impression for their sparkling sound that at times kinda reminds me of the psychedelic and variably surf-infused garage rock of Crsytal Stilts and Disappears mixed with a hint of early No Age and maybe White Fence, in addition to the eccentric monotonous fuzz escapades of City Yelps and the ethereal, abstract post punk melancholia of Kitchen’s Floor and Mother’s Milk… A quirky mixture that is for sure but it works quite admirably. Even when the band runs an acute risk of overstretching their most airy qualities in the record’s slow middle stretch, the bet pays off and shit just refuses to come apart, however precarious it might look at first glance..
Last December’s Debut EP Shoot Me I’m Plain of this Chico, California group was such a thorougly pleasant surprise coming pretty much out of nowhere and i actually have absolutely nothing new to say now about their first full length record which has just dropped. Once again, this is an insanely appealing and more than just competent variant of that last-decade schtick made up of elements of super-catchy fuzz punk, noise pop and psychedelic surf vibes. A sound that’s become a bit scarce in more recent years but keeps cropping up every now and then in the most unlikely places, like stubborn weeds proving themselves hard to root out entirely by an unsympathetic zeitgeist. Think early Wavves, Male Bonding, No Age, early Terry Malts or Tiger! Shit! Tiger! Tiger! in addition to such surfboard-wielding indie- and psych rockers á la Crystal Stilts, Surfer Blood and The Fresh And Onlys. That kind of shit.
I didn’t ever think i’d need another instrumental surf rock record in my life, a genre that seemingly never expanded its stylistic vocabulary too much since its ’50s/60s gold rush or, even worse, often feels kinda like a dumbed-down, ultra-codified and risk-averse retread of its initial phase. This group from La Cisterna, Chile, however, pulls off that miracle of getting me invested in another surf-ish LP with a sound that makes me feel like goin’ surfin’ in… well, fuckin’ hell i’d say, tackling the genre from an angle of noisy, goth-infused post punk and death rock that infuses tons of energy and much needed fresh air into its ancient ways and in contrast to so much instrumental rock’n’roll (surf or otherwise) feeling in desperate need of a vocal line to bind together the moving parts, the arrangements on this record are perfectly capable to stand on their own – the dramaturgically dense compositions and guitar leads, brimming with energy, are masterfully telling their own stories, no words needed here.
A somewhat quirky animal, this debut album by Minneapolis’ Basement Boys. Starts out by radiating a kind of post punk vibe similar to Plax or The Cowboy, then increasingly skews toward garage punk, augumented by a small dose of noise and some beach goth melancholy, at times reminding me of stuff like Co Sonn, Ex-Cult, Shark Toys or early Wavves.
