Archive for the ‘Singles and EPs’ Category

23rd February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

On the Ropes started out in 2012, but called it a day with a farewell show in November 2019. Not a bad run for any band, but especially not for a ‘local’ band with dayjob commitments and all the rest. Being in a band, and maintaining it, is hard work – really hard work, especially in recent years. Even pre-COVID, unless you’re filling O2 arenas and selling fucktonnes of albums and merch, sustaining a band as anything more than a hobby was a challenge, and as such beyond the reach of most working-class people who can’t afford luxuries like guitars or amps. In the early days of punk, anyone could pick up a guitar, learn three chords, and for a band. Those days are gone: even if you can afford a guitar and learn three chords, where are you going to play? The industry is fucked – at least for all but the major labels, and acts who score deals without even playing enough gigs to build a following before being scooped up and being handed major support tours and slots at Glastonbury before the debut single even hits Spotify.

I know I’ve been sniffy – to say the least – about pop-punk. I’ve been sniffy about a lot, and I make no apology for it. As a critic, as much as I try on the one hand to be as objective as possible, I also am of the fundamental view that music is personal, subjective. Music that demonstrates more technical proficiency certainly isn’t superior because of it. But, as I say, I’ve been pretty down on punk-pop. But I’ve always said that there are two kinds of music – good, and bad, and maintained the position that there are great songs, even great bands, within every genre, even emo, nu-metal, and ska-punk. Well, maybe not ska-punk. There’s always a bridge too far somewhere.

Anyway, a full nine years on from their last proper release (discounting a cover of The Spice Girls’ ‘2 Become 1’ at Christmas, following a return to live shows last year, On the Ropes have reconvened for a new self-titled EP, with seven songs which stand some way above your identikit punk-pop template stuff, and I suppose it’s the sameness – and the endless buoyancy – of so much of the genre that grinds my gears. There’s a melancholy, a wistfulness, that pervades even the most upbeat songs on offer here, and while the vocals are super-clean and super-melodic – the pop, you might say, the guitars are beefy and up in the mix and the drumming is fast and hard, very much placing the emphasis on the punk element.

‘Deserter’ kicks off with a blast of energy and some well-timed minor chords which create a dynamic twist and an emotionally-rich – and yes, I suppose emo – edge. This is very much the characteristic form of their songs. And it works. This isn’t dumb, cheesy pop-punk, and nor is it self-pitying, whiny emo: it’s emo gone grown up, reflective, and exploring themes of love and loss, but letting it all out, and the songs are both punchy and catchy thanks to the contrast between the instruments and the vocals.

The slower, sadder, introspective ‘West Coast Living’ is certainly more Placebo than Panic! At the Disco, while ‘Broken Shutter’ packs a delicate verse with an explosive chorus and manages to be aching and epic and achieves it all in two-and-a-half minutes. ‘Saturnine’ has a Twin Atlantic vibe to it, and while it’s perhaps not the strongest song of the set, it’s hard to deny the quality of the songwriting, or the fact that this EP feels like the work of a much, much bigger band.

Local fans are going to relish this return, for sure – and given the quality on offer here, maybe they’ll actually become the much bigger band.

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With the release of The Body & Dis Fig’s debut collaborative album Orchards of a Futile Heaven just on the horizon, coming 23rd February, the group share smouldering new single ‘To Walk a Higher Path.’ Heavy without conforming to any of the usual tropes of metal or electronic music, the trio here carve out their own distinctive soundworld, neon-lit scenes slowly unfurling amidst light and shadow. Rippling synthesisers beam out like searchlights scanning the horizon, slowly coalescing into strafing melody and staggered rhythms, with Dis Fig’s vocal vapour trails floating weightless above The Body’s obliterated howls and blasted electronics.

Orchards of a Futile Heaven’s walls of sputtering texture and tectonic booms are soaked in the reverence and melancholy of sacred spaces brought to life by palpable intensity by Chen’s voice. Crafted during a time of personal fragility, the album’s devastating force lies beyond any of the expected noise and abrasive textures typically associated with both The Body & Dis Fig. Suffused with a raw vulnerability and a longing for catharsis, Chen’s voice searches for escape in the midst of oppressive atmospheres as if determined to find relief from guilt.

Following the new single, The Body have also announced a string of U.S. tour dates. The Body & Dis Fig plan to tour throughout the US, UK, and Europe in 2024, with collab tour dates to be announced.

Listen to ‘To Walk a Higher path’ here:

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12th January 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Sometimes, a song has the capacity to make you feel different. I find this happens most often when it’s least expected. ‘Coming Good’, the debut release by Learn to Surf came particularly unexpected. It’s certainly not my usual kind of thing – but there’s just something about that melancholic, reverby picked guitar and the washes of rippling chords cascading down over the top, and there’s a nuanced complexity in the relationship between this, and the layered harmonies, which are imbued with a carefree dappled-haze chilledness with a twist of wistful pining that’s hard to really put a finger on.

Because all music is now a vast nexus of intertext and influence, unravelling or otherwise attempting to frame songs – and bands – in a clear and specific context is nigh on impossible, not least of all because so much context comes from within, from one’s own spheres of reference, and as culture has become increasingly fragmented, so our experiences and references lose the sense of universality they once would have had. Time was, when there were only four, or five, TV channels, the entire nation was glued to the same show at the same time, and the following day, everyone would be talking about that episode, even if it was only EastEnders. This was a time when the main way to access music was via the radio, and if you wanted to hear anything beyond the charts or the classics, you needed to tune into John Peel, or Annie Nightingale after the Top 40 on a Sunday night. How times have changed!

I digress, but for a purpose, insomuch as the more disparate our experiences and reference points become, the less relatable and relevant they become to anyone who doesn’t live inside your head. I spent an age wondering what it was about ‘Coming Good’ that sounded familiar, before eventually concluding that it was ‘Gentle is Her Touch’ by Post war Glamour Girls, and the Alt-country / Americana act Sons of Bill on their Cure-influenced last album Oh God, Ma’am. It would likely be more useful for a broader audience to draw comparisons to Ride, and note the jangly indie psychedelic aspects of what is an absolutely marvellous, goosebump-inducing song with ‘classic’ vibes radiating from it in every direction.

Pissed Jeans shares ‘Sixty-Two Thousand Dollars in Debt,’ a crushing new track about the heady excitement of shrinking debt-to-credit ratios, and a highlight from their forthcoming album Half Divorced.

Listen here – it’s a belter!

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Last month, the band announced the release of the album with the official video for indelible lead single ‘Moving On’ from director and frequent collaborator Joe Stakun (‘The Bar Is Low,’ ‘Bathroom Laughter,’ ‘Romanticize Me’).

Pissed Jeans’ Half Divorced is the follow-up to 2017’s Why Love Now, an album that took aim at the mundane discomforts of modern life. The twelve songs of Half Divorced skewer the tension between youthful optimism and the sobering realities of adulthood. Pissed Jeans’ – Matt Korvette (vocals), Bradley Fry (guitar),  Randy Huth (bass), and Sean McGuinness (drums) – notorious acerbic sense of humor remains sharper than ever as they dismember some of the joys that contemporary adult life has to offer.

Half Divorced was produced and mixed by Pissed Jeans and Don Godwin and engineered by Mike Petillo at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland, and mastered by Arthur Rizk (co-producer and mixer for Why Love Now).

Pissed Jeans’ previously announced international tour dates in support of Half Divorced span Friday, February 29th through Thursday, April 4th. Additional live dates will be announced soon.

Thu. Feb. 29 – Portland, OR – Mississippi Studios

Fri. Mar. 01 – Seattle, WA – Madame Lou’s

Sat. Mar. 02 – Los Angeles, CA – The Echo

Fri. Mar. 15 – Philadelphia, PA – Underground Arts

Sat. Mar. 16 – Brooklyn, NY – St. Vitus

Fri. Mar. 29 – Schijndel, NL – Paaspop Festival

Sat. Mar. 30 – London, UK – EartH (aka Hackney Arts Centre)

Sun. Mar. 31 – Manchester, UK – Manchester Punk Fest

Tue. Apr. 02 – Glasgow, UK – Stereo

Wed. Apr. 03 – Dublin, IE – Whelan’s

Thu. Apr. 04 – Leeds, UK – Brudenell Social Club

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5th February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

People often say they hate surprises. I know where they’re coming from, although by and large, the surprise is less the issue than their reaction being seen. As children, we’ve all had the Christmas party and the birthday where we’ve suffered a head-exploding embarrassment where something’s been sprung unexpectedly, and where, as a consequence the walls have closed in and you’ve felt entrapped within a tight, tunnelling space and simply wanted to disappear – right? But there are two kinds of surprises: good ones and bad ones, just as there are two kinds of music: good, and bad.

‘Cryptic Bodies’ is good music, and the perfect surprise, presenting as a discordant chaotic mess of purgatorial abrasion, which smashes its way into a collision of post-punk and… well, what else is hard to say, beyond sinewy, straining dissonance. Really, this is one of those ‘what the fuck is this?’ releases. Personally, I absolutely love this kind of stuff, that’s challenging, shouty, difficult to listen to, let alone define. The music shifts in tone and intensity, a meandering twisting thread of jangliness and extraneous noise that bears jazz influences without being jazz, noise-rock elements without being noise-rock. What does it mean? What is it for? Cryptic is certainly the word, and perhaps it’s best to simply revel in the strangeness than attempt to unravel and decipher it.

But there’s more. The track is lifted from Hungarian artist Porteleki’s forthcoming album Smearing, which is out in March, and it’s not his first work by the title ‘Cryptic Bodies’, as a moment’s cursory research brings us to a ‘documentary’ film on YouTube, uploaded in three parts, which captures Porteleki – a percussionist first and foremost – performing a solo score, which is ‘structured yet improvised’ as the audio backdrop to ‘a contemporary dance piece, where 5 dancers traverse through space, body and time to throbbing experimental live metal music. The work is inspired by ancient bodily practices such as Egyptian mummification and Mesopotamian occult healing rites’.

Being instrumental, and extending to around forty minutes, it’s a powerful soundtrack to a visually striking and remarkably compelling multimedia experience, which also showcases Porteleki’s inventive, atmosphere-building approach to guitar playing. Elsewhere online, his SoundCloud uploads present an array of experimental works, ranging from minimalist dark ambience to wild, maximalist bursts of noise, meaning how representative of the album this cut might be is anyone’s guess. But given the title track, which is currently streaming on Bandcamp, there’s a strong possibility that it’s going to be an extremely varied and extremely unusual collection of highly experimental bits and pieces. ‘No genres’ he states on his Bandcamp. No kidding: Porteleki’s modus operandi appears to be to shatter every mould there is. He isn’t so much leftfield, or outside the box, but outside the field, and he’s burned the box to ashes.

Porteleki clearly likes to push boundaries, and none more than his own. ‘Cryptic Bodies’ offers a gateway into the world of an artist who warrants exploration – but not if you don’t like surprises.

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The Melvins’ latest opus, Tarantula Heart (April 19, Ipecac Recordings), is quite possibly the band’s most unconventional, catchiest and imaginative work yet, continuing a legacy celebrated for its eccentric and extraordinary output.

A preview of the five-song, 39-minute collection arrives with the release of ‘Working The Ditch,’ and the accompanying Jesse Nieminen-created video. Nieminen previously directed the band’s short film, ‘A Walk With Love and Death.’

Watch the video here:

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“The way we approached Tarantula Heart was different than any other Melvins’ album,” explains Buzz Osborne. “I had Dale and Roy Mayorga come in and play along with Steven and I to some riffs, then I took those sessions and figured out what parts would work and wrote new music to fit. This isn’t a studio approach we’ve ever taken. Usually we have the songs written BEFORE we start recording!”

“The majority of Tarantula Heart has dual drum parts,” adds long-time Melvins drummer Dale Crover. “Roy is an amazing drummer. We would discuss what we would do pattern wise, then we’d just go for it. Improvising riffs and trading off on drum fills.”

In actuality nothing appeared out of thin air. Buzz spent hours and hours with the drum tracks by himself writing songs to what he was hearing drum wise. “When the rest of the band heard these songs I’d created from the sessions, they were blown away,” Buzz shares. “These were fully developed new songs that they’d never heard before that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. Presto!”

Recorded, mixed and co-produced by longtime Melvins’ collaborator Toshi Kasai, the album also features We Are The Asteroid guitar player Gary Chester. Gary and the Melvins’ history goes back to their days on Boner Records, with the guitar player formerly having been a part of the legendary band, Ed Hall.

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Next month sees the Melvins head overseas, playing in Japan for the first time since 2019 following a stint where they join current labelmates, Mr. Bungle, for a trek across Australia and New Zealand. Buzz and Bungle bass player Trevor Dunn team up later this year for the “King Dunn Tour,” a 45-date excursion that sees the pair play songs from the King Buzzo releases: This Machine Kills Artists and Gift of Sacrifice. The full list of dates can be found via Ipecac.com/tours.

Melvins tour dates:

March 3  Auckland, NZ  Auckland Town Hall

March 6  Melbourne, AUS  Festival Hall

March 7  Adelaide, AUS  Hindley Street Music Hall

March 9  Sydney, AUS  Hordern Pavilion

March 10  Brisbane, AUS  Fortitude Music Hall

March 12  Perth, AUS  Metro City

March 17  Osaka, JP  Music Club Janus

March 19  Tokyo, JP  Shibuya WWW X

March 20  Tokyo, JP  Shibuya WWW X

Neurot Recordings – 23rd February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

The band’s website contains, if not exactly a manifesto, an eye cast over the world in which we find ourselves here in the early weeks of 2024: ‘Human singularity, a third world war, scorching deserts, rising seas – it’s all coming for us. The slow grind is already in motion, pushing concrete, bodies, Teslas, skyscrapers, shacks, banks and bitcoin into a collective abyss. Piles of discarded trash will inherit the earth. It’s anyone’s guess as to what happens next. Is this the end of the world? Who knows. Who cares? Stand by with the rest of us and watch it burn. We’re all guiltless. We’re all blameless.’

Here, then, we come to learn the origin of the band’s name, a grim, grimacing irony condensed into a single word. This articulates the sense of pit-of-the-gut despondency we should all feel when we look around us. The drivers to take to the roads in their SUVs to drive five minutes up the road for the school run because it’s raining doing their bit to ensure it’s going to rain a hell of a lot more; the moneyed who jet off for their annual skiing holidays who bemoan the lack of snow without for a second considering the fact that they’re the reason there’s no snow, may be small-scale compared to Shell declaring profits which are double the UK’s climate funding and being pressured to can their ‘green’ strategies in order to siphon off even more for their shareholders, but the point is, we could all do better, much better, but simply none of us is truly willing to sacrifice comfort and consumerism for a future they can’t comprehend.

The accompanying press release delivers a similarly positive pitch, telling how ‘Guiltless creates apocalyptic soundscapes in their imaginings of the surreal return to proto-human civilisation, as well as what life might be like for the survivors of the next mass extinction event on Thorns.’ Prepare to be harrowed, people, prepare to be harrowed. But also, prepare to take a look in the mirror: do you need to buy products from Nestle and Unilever? Do you have to shop at Tesco and Amazon, or are their local business you can buy from? How about loose fruit and veg instead of packed in plastic? And do you actually need that thing, the latest phone model, the delivery from McDonald’s? It’s a tough one: the majority of people who are most driven towards such basic convenience choices are on the lowest wages and are the ones generating the wealth for the rich cunts who will happily watch the earth burn rather than pay tax. You might think they’d grow a conscience for the future their children will find themselves in, but they’re banking on shipping off to Mars before the half of the world that isn’t incinerated is under water. Hey, they can probably take a few polar bears and pandas along, too.

Thorns is twenty-four minutes of hellish bleakness. It’s an EP to play when you’re in the mood for basking in bone-breaking blackness. ‘Devour Collide’ begins deceptively gently, a hum of extraneous noise which is overtaken by some gentle guitar and an understated bass, propelled by rolling toms – then forty-six seconds in, everything slams in, hard and heavy, the distortion rages and the snare crashes like a tectonic event. The riffage grinds to a crawl and churns it way to crushing lows, while Josh Graham’s raw, ravaged vocals sound as if his larynx has been scorched by fire and pollution. It makes for an utterly punishing six-and-a-half minutes, and sets the tone for a truly monstrous set.

It’s a thick blast of flanged guitar which powers in on a wave of thunderous drums on ‘All We Destroy’. It’s a criminally underrated and underused effect, and one which is far more versatile than is perhaps appreciated, with the capacity to create brittle metallic tones with quite the old-school goth vibe as well as sweeping swirls – and it’s a bold ‘whoosh’ which yields to a thick, sludgy grind, as dense and heavy as a mudslide. ‘Dead-Eye’ delivers repeated punches to the gut with its lurching, lumbering low-end tumult, jarring, sinewy guitars and clattering, slow, slow, slow drumming reminiscent of early Swans, but with a doomy metal aspect. It makes for a long and challenging five-and-a-half minutes, which leaves you drained, physically and mentally, weak in the limbs and gasping for air in the wake of its devastating intensity.

The EP’s closer, ‘In Radiant Glow’ starts slow and low, and as such, it’s vibe is classic Neurot. And then, just around a minute in, BOOM! Everything slams in and hits like a tsunami. It’s utterly punishing – and rightly so.

It’s perhaps fair to say that everything is fucked. As I write, the UK government is adamant that it’s bombing of Yemen and a growing number of countries in the Middle East is ‘not an escalation’, while continuing to give support to Israel’s ‘right to defend itself’ against Hamas. No-one would reasonably deny any state’s right to defend itself, but can anyone really justify 25,000 deaths and rising daily as ‘proportionate’ or ‘defence’? Meanwhile, Russia continues to pound Ukraine, and shareholders in weapons manufacturers like BAE Systems are making a killing from all the killing. Well, might as well make as much as you can while you can, eh?

And so, here we are. Twenty, twenty-five years ago, you’d have been labelled an apocalyptic nutter for stressing out over the future and over climate change. Sadly, big business and cunts like Trump and his supporters still will, raving about the ills of wind farms and favouring fracking and nuclear power instead. Even when Venice becomes the new Atlantis, they’ll still be saying the same. But there’s no escaping now that we are fucked. Guiltless know it and they’re not here too win anyone over or to change anything, because they recognise that it’s too late and it’s all utterly futile. Thorns is a dark document which faces the grim reality. Its purpose is not to offer solace, but simply solidarity for those who also realise that we’re on a one-way road to oblivion.

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2nd February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger… so the cliché goes. ‘That must make me Hercules’ was JG Thirlwell’s response on the Foetus track ‘Grace of God’ from the album Flow. He’s a man who should know, having not only forged a career on the outermost limits of the fringes and survived a brief spell on Sony and else controversy and vilification and general unpopularity as a contrast to a rabid cult following add up to in combination.

Eville are living proof of Thirlwell’s take. When they wrote and first released ‘Messy’ they could not have had the vaguest inkling of just how messy things might get. Theirs is a classic story of disappointment and industry failings, but also of bloody-mindedness, stubbornness and ultimately of resilience.

While Eville’s debut release, ‘Messy’ was picked up – and received enthusiastically by a minority of outlets – and you know, I will take a moment to blow the Aural Aggravation trumpet here, because despite our extremely limited capacity, we do get behind those acts we recognise as having clear potential and which, given the right exposure could and should break through.

Instead of a straight-up re-release, they’re following up ‘Leech’ with a killer remix of their second single. Blair the Producer’s twist on it preserves the blunt force and ferocity of the original version, but brings some extra edge. It’s beefy as fuck and is the definitive sound of nu-metal for the new generation.

No doubt there’ll be middle-aged twats bemoaning how it’s too pop or it’s not the same as the shit that was coming out twenty-five years ago. Middle-aged twats – and generally people over the age of thirty-five, who’ve hit the wall and concluded there’s been no decent new music since they were twenty-one – are plain wrong, and they should be directing their dissatisfaction inwards, and not only examining their own sad old lives, but remembering what is was like when they were in their late teens and early twenties. The sad old cunts who still revel in the days of Britpop might want to remind themselves that the golden age they so revere was largely a revival of various bygone eras, primarily the days of 60s pop and mod – mashed up and rehashed. These people are missing the point that progress happens, and the next generation will inevitably pick up on the music of the one before, or the one before that, and make it their own, and instead of bemoaning kids and their lack of ideas, should take it as a compliment that they’ve picked up the baton and are running with it in their own direction. Eville have that baton clenched tightly, and are running far faster than the pack right now.

15th January 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

As Joni Mitchell sang on ‘Big Yellow Taxi’ ‘Don’t it always seem to go / That you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?’ This will surely prove to be a true summary of the music press, which has been utterly decimated since the turn of the millennium, and seems to be vanishing at a rate faster than the Amazon in the last few years. Suddenly, there is outcry and all kinds of furore following the announcement that Pitchfork will be absorbed into GQ by magazine monoliths Condé Naste – or Condé Nasty, if you will – as publishing becomes ever more focused on profits and the bottom line. John Doran has today published an essay in The Guardian. It’s good, but it’s perhaps too little, too late. I don’t recall the same level of discontent over the demise of Sounds, or Melody Maker, or NME, but perhaps this is the straw whereby people finally realise that, after decades of slating music critics as pond life and scum for unfavourable reviews and scabbing free CDs and guest list, the music press is actually a vital wing of journalism. The prose may not always be Shakespeare or even Hemingway, but the press exists to raise awareness and engage in dialogue around acts people may not have heard of, or otherwise only encounter via the hype. And the press is also low-cost advertising. It costs a hell of a lot less to bung a CD in the post (if only that was still a regular thing) or grant entry to a live show than the expense of pissing away hods on sponsored links on social media.

Algorithms are no substitute for ears and the critical faculties of a functional brain, and ultimately do nothing but narrow the path of engagement. I know, I know, many people over thirty-five bemoan there having been no decent new music since they were twenty, but that’s simply not true, and what happens when people reach a certain age and disengage from the world. Some simply can’t be saved. But it’s wrong to deprive those who can from the whole world of exciting new music that’s out there, and there is absolutely stellar new stuff emerging every single day.

And because I’m still here, and because this site operates completely independently, on a zero-budget basis, and it’s just something I do by compulsion and on top of the dayjob which pays the bills, I can bring you this belter double A-side release by The Silent Era. ‘Heven/Hell’ is sharp, sassy, a beefy blast of post-punk energy propelled by loping drums and driving guitars and it lands between Evanescence and All About Eve, a collision of goth and melodic metal with blistering results. Is it epic? Yes, yes it is. It’s hard, it’s heavy, but it’s also tuneful.

The same is true of virtual flipside ‘Scorpio’. Recorded live at the BBC, the sound quality is as good as a studio recording, and it captures the band bringing low-slugging riffy weight atop some deft bass fretwork and a powerful vocal delivery.

This is exciting and exhilarating stuff, but you’re unlikely to find coverage of The Silent Era in the page of GQ. And that’s probably for the best, but… they deserve it. But since it won’t happen, you can thank me later.

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