Posts Tagged ‘alternative’

No preamble, no hype needed – just listen, because it’s ace.

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Christopher Nosnibor

The fact that Jack Flint and Carl Donoghue had been in a band called the Tango Pirates before forming Sea Gods with Marty Taylor isn’t entirely shocking: continuing the nautical themes of the bands’ names, there’s something of the buccaneering roustabout to the verses of this, the trio’s debut single with the core riff being built around an up-and-down fret run that has a kind of surfy, rockabilly vibe. Not that, despite its uptempo delivery, it’s not some shanty knees-up, but more a song about being all at sea, as they outline the song’s meaning as being ‘about the difficult times we’re facing, thanks to increasing hardship, and encourages us to live life in the present to the fullest.’

But if the verses are a shade indie with a roguish dash, the choruses spring to life with a gut-busting explosion of punk energy, and it’s here that the blend of frustration and positivity both come to the fore, with exhilarating results, calling to mind ‘Babylon’s Burning’ by The Ruts in both riff and energy.

There can’t be many bands – or that much else doing – in Clitheroe, being a small town in Lancashire. But this is the kind of place where like-minded people form strong bonds and dream of escape as they vent their frustrations. ‘Are You Here Now?’ finds Sea Gods channelling that energy into something raw, fiery, real – and maybe this could be their ticket out.

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Sea Gods Artwork

Aural Aggro faves Hammok follow a brace a monster EPs – Jumping/Dancing/Fighting and  Now I Know with a new single, with ‘Seance’ providing the latest taste of their upcoming debut album look how long lasting everything is moving for one. The single is served up with an explosive one-take music video produced in the childhood home of vocalist Tobias Maxwell Osland.

‘Seance’ shows the band’s most direct side yet. The song barely rounds out two and a half minutes and at that time gives you a masterclass in hardcore chorus flair. The soundscape is controlled by a constantly forward-propelling drum machine and a metallic synth bass where vocalist Tobias Osland is given plenty of room to dominate the listener’s eardrum.

With fragmented images inspired by horror films and occult traditions, ‘Seance’ brings out a deeply dark and disturbing reality where the protagonist finds themselves in their worst nightmare. A feeling of being haunted or persecuted, a life where your reality is terrorized. Where it all began, in a SEANCE.

Check it here:

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Hammok

5th January 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

While I’m still sifting through December’s releases – it seems as if 90% of 2023’s releases landed on 15th December – I’m most conscious that 2024 hasn’t only arrived, but is blasting forwards at a rocket pace. The first week has evaporated already. Where does time go? Where does life go? I find myself contemplating these questions daily, weekly, not as part of some existential fret, but simply as I jostle with the everyday contradiction of the so-called work/life balance. For the majority, the very concept is a myth. They work, they work, they work… and then they die. This is the reality of contemporary capitalism, and apparently, we need to shut up and deal with it.

I shall park the political rage momentarily, while addressing this. Here we have ‘Choppy’, the new single release from Berlin punk rock duo Circolo Vizioso, pitched as ‘a high-octane single spawned of depression and failed love story and… the first taste of their debut album Verrueckt (out March 1st) and as showcasing ‘their unique brand of high-intensity, lyric-driven punk, created with electric violin, guitar and drums. On this album, Circolo Vizioso wrestles with isolation, lack of social and human contact, and a hunger for music and art, which we all felt during recent lockdowns.’ It’s also pitched as being for fans of Sonic Youth, The Black Angels, Fugazi, Nirvana, Buzzcocks, Shellac, Gang of Four, Schleimkeim, Pisse, Abwaert, Old Time Relijun. Of the bands among those with which I’m familiar (It’s a falsehood that even the most knowledgeable music critics have heard every band, however hard they might pretend it’s so) this is all positive, and these are the kind of bands whose sound provide a sonic template for exploring some dark and complex emotions and navigating challenging situations and a messed-up society. Music is more than mere entertainment: it’s an outlet, a way of dealing with difficult things, of exploring and working through them, and on the evidence of this release, Circolo Vizioso unapologetically channel these difficulties into their creative outlet.

‘Choppy’ is as raw and primitive as it comes. Rough and scratchy, it feels like a demo – but to pretty it up with production would be to strip it of its primal immediacy. Listening to those first few bars, I’m reminded of early Pavement, in every way: it’s rattly, ragged indie, cleanish guitars fuzzing as a condenser mic on a portable cassette recorder overloads. It’s heavy with melancholy, and the tempo switches and drags and races. And the accompanying video – ultra-saturated, blurry – is an eye-bleeder which perfectly mirrors the mood and the no-fi stylings. The violin makes for an unusual slant, bringing further tension and scrapey noise to the dysfunctional party.

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15th December 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Glasgow Duo Empty Machines promise a blend of post punk, shoegaze, and indie synth rock, and ‘Velvet Sky’ is an expansive, atmospheric tune, layers of vocals floating in a swirl of textures synths and guitars submerged in effects. Reflective, contemplative, there are some bold dynamics here as they take things down to allow level before surging back. The blurry, saturated, shadowy but dazzlingly bright video perfectly encapsulates the mood here – one which is centred around a range of conflicting sensations and uncertain emotions. You feel a certain sense of bewilderment, as if being transported by invisible forces, both physically and psychologically.

It’s the vocals which carry the melody through a tidal wave of dense instrumentation, and with the drums low in the mix in comparison to this cinematic instrumental maelstrom, there’s a sense of volume, of sonic force to this dreamy but powerful single, as soft and smooth as velvet, but as dense as diamond.

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14th December 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Scarlett Woolfe has been honing her sound and style and building a fan base in London throughout 2023, taking her solo singer-songwriter project to the stage with a full band. Her debut single, ‘Poor Suzy,’ it seems, has been quite a while coming, but there’s no doubt that it was worth the wait.

Her own choice of tags include ‘alternative rock’, ‘dark wave’, ‘post-punk’, ‘dark-pop’ and ‘gothic’, and these very much serve to give a sense of what to expect: it’s spiky, edgy, and oozes attitude. There are hints of early Garbage in the instrumentation, with the poppy elements balanced by just the right amount of grit and bite.

The lyrics ‘Poor Suzy / lying in the snow / Poor Suzy / nowhere to go’ are hardly Sylvia Plath, but it’s all in the delivery. I doubt I’m first do draw the obvious comparison, and certainly won’t be the last when I proffer that the Scarlett’s voice – and her delivery, which swoops and dives, and shifts effortlessly from breathy to full from-the-centre of-the chest strong – is strongly reminiscent of Siouxsie Sioux, It’s pretty punky, and pretty punchy to boot. Building to a climactic close, it all stacks up to make for a powerful single.

The artwork, too, captures the stark style of the post-punk era, and this feels something that’s been carefully thought out as a complete package by way of an introduction to the world of Scarlett Woolfe.

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Poor Suzy

6th December 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

I hadn’t been looking for something that straddled Bauhaus’ more experimental cuts and David Devant and his Spirit Wife… But that’s how it goes. You don’t know what you want – or need – until you find it, and stuff lands on your lap when you least expect it. This is theatrical, crazy, over the top. It’s the sound of a band flipping out, melting down in every direction – more of a document of an electrical shock to the brain than the frazzled fizz of the frothing seafront.

‘The Wheel, the Spade, the Stars in Motion’ is no instant grab post-industrial froth: instead, it’s a frenetic electronic mania, all the froth and panic. The panic… the panic is real. It’s the soundtrack to waking up disorientated and wondering where the hell you are and what on earth is going on, and the video only adds to the bewilderment, the wackiness as surreal as the most inexplicable dream.

Strolling bass and wonky guitars are only half of a story which throws into the melting pot the sharp, sinewy guitar pop of Franz Ferdinand and the over the top agitated dramatics of The Associates.

The lyrics are utterly barking, but shouldn’t be dismissed as mere quirky nonsense: there’s a genuine poeticism and flair for language on display here.

The maid was in the garden

Disfigured by a bird

That reactionary raptor

Left her undeterred

The specksioneer made it clear

harpoon held aloft

Declaring that his love for her

could melt the permafrost

Playing with the tropes of the Elizabethan sonnet, but at the same time spinning circles of Surrealist imagery, Erotic Secrets of Pompeii are a unique proposition, and for all the warped oddness, which shouldn’t work but does, ‘The Wheel, the Spade, the Stars in Motion’ is a cracking single if you can step back from the craziness for long enough to reflect and absorb.

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25th November 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Pink Floyd, Joy Division, and Queens of the Stone Age don’t leap to mind as compatible influences for the pollination of a new musical venture, but we learn from the outset that these are the touchstones of Manchester act Dirty Laces, whose debit album, Blink for Nothing has been fully six years in the making. It’s a fully DIY venture, too – self-produced, self-released, and presented in their own artwork. Steve Albini would approve. It may be that Blink for Nothing won’t sell truckloads, but there’s much satisfaction in knowing that any proceeds will go straight to the band, meaning that any profits will, too, instead of lining everyone else’s pockets first before the band receive any leftover change, if they’re lucky. The model is fundamentally flawed, but of course, the industry thinks otherwise: of course it does, because artists who turn a profit turn a profit for labels, management agencies, etc., etc., and those who don’t, find themselves ejected pretty swiftly. It’s unlikely that the industry machine would have afforded these guys six years to evolve and hone their sound, their songs, and tinker with everything, while giving them complete creative control.

‘Midnight Mile’ makes for a strong opener with a bold, melodic lead guitar line carving an entry into a song that packs in so many different elements while keeping it all tightly together with some strong hooks. With some digital bleepery and kicking guitars and an atmospheric breakdown about two-thirds in, it’s got a very 90s/00s alt-rock indie vibe, and somehow manages to land somewhere between Jesus Jones and The Cooper Temple Clause, all delivered with an archetypal Mancunian swagger.

The swagger is something that could be rather divisive, and the baggy beats and bass runs which crop up here and there make nods to the likes of The Stone Roses and The Charlatans which feel a shade derivative and don’t necessarily do them any favours. But despite these features, ‘Old Friend’ is innovative and solid, some nonsensical lyrics aside (‘There’s an old friend I know / Never seen him before)’, and transitions from paired-back and primarily acoustic to big and – yes, I’ll say it – anthemic. ‘All I See’ does the big, expansive funk-tinged blues thing, but unexpectedly, Charlie Jordan’s vocals are soulful and in combination, the end result is rather more like Mansun than anything – and then it really blasts off. these guys really know how to build a song and bring a rushing climax.

The guitar licks on ‘Another Day’ are a bit Dire Straits, but they fire both barrels on ‘Seeker’, which again boasts a chorus that’s absolutely fucking massive, and the fact it reminds me of several other songs, none of which I can put my finger on, doesn’t detract. ‘Tomorrow Comes Again’ arrives as something of a surprise: a slow-burner that again brings hints of Mansun and even a more guitar Duran Duran.

The fact I’m personally conflicted is no bad thing, and while no doubt some will be absolutely gripped by this from the first listen, it’s healthy to accept that music isn’t always an instant grab, especially when there are moments that feel just a bit standard, a bit Oasis, even. I might not get much of Pink Floyd, Joy Division, or Queens of the Stone Age from this – apart from the mid-section of ‘Wanna Know’, where a bassline worthy of Peter Hook lunges into a dirty riff that does have a strong whiff of QOTSA, that is – but what I do get is a shedload of ideas and some strong attitude, backed up with some solid musicianship.

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Dirty Laces Artwork

1st December 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Ah, the power of a strong intro… and the power of nostalgia. The beefy riffage that launches ‘Flux’ by London act Shockpowder… it’s bold and it’s grungy, and the vocals are dreamy melodic, drifting, and I’m instantly dragged back to the early 90s.

Formed in 2015, I wonder if the members of Shockpowder would even remember the early 90s, but they clearly have a strong affinity, and note that they’re ‘heavily influenced by post rock, shoegaze and metal bands such as God is an Astronaut, Alcest and Slowdive.’

What I get from ‘Flux’ is a wistful, emotive element which is carried on some amped-up guitars that are simultaneously jangling and loud, and in many ways reminiscent of early Ride, and, perhaps rather less well-known, Eight Storey Window. Why they never gained more recognition, I will never understand, but then, the era was littered with great bands who were criminally underrated. How long did it take for The God Machine’s greatness to be recognised? Too long, and even now, they seem to be something of a cult for connoisseurs.

It’s not just a question of sound: any musician who’s spent enough time immersed in listening and paying attention to detail, and given the right gear, the right amp, the right pedals, the right production, can recreate the sound of their influences. But what counts is the feeling. ‘Flux’ is imbued with that vaguest, most inaccessible and yet essential ingredients – emotion. There’s something that goes beyond the minimal lyrics, reflecting on the ephemerality of life, something that goes beyond the distortion and reverb, hitting that indefinable spot of resonance. You don’t hear it, you feel it.

After this long, and having amassed a considerable catalogue, Shockpowder probably aren’t about to go stratospheric any time soon, but it’s the world’s loss, ultimately, because ‘Flux’ is, quite simply, a great song.

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Gringo Records – 15th December 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

By way of a name, Reciprocate doesn’t give much away. With its connotations of collectivism and collaboration, it could be anything from limp indie to a jazz ensemble, although to my ears, it suggests ska-punk or some other corny right-on festival friendly guff. But no: they’re an avant-rock trio, and something of a supergroup when it comes to representatives of the UK DIY scene, consisting of Stef Kett (Shield Your Eyes), with drummer Henri Grimes (Shield Your Eyes, Big Lad), and Marion Andrau (The Wharves, Underground Railroad) on bass, and the name, it transpires, is a reflection of the synergy between the three, promising ‘intoxicating, super catchy good-time, big heart music – a human album delivering a human message of love and love lost.’

The blurbage goes on to outline how Soul To Burn proceeds at a cadence all of its own, halting and blasting, ducking and weaving, zooming away from its distant cousins: Taste era Rory Gallagher or Mr Zoot Horn Rollo of Beefheart’s Magic Band, leathering it at full throttle, fuelled by virtuosic back beats that remind of somewhere between the rolling rock of Mitch Mitchell and the fractured noisebeat of Lightning Bolt’s Brian Chippendale: immediate, innovative, virtuosic, exhilarating.

The album’s ten songs are concise and precise, with ninety percent keeping below the four minute mark, and it’s perhaps this focus which really makes Soul to Burn pop. ‘Sleevetugger’ is pretty minimal, and has soulful, bluesy vibe with even a dash of county twanged into the mix – but it’s played with a wonkiness worthy of Pavement, and that absolutely changes everything. They amp it up on the groovesome ‘Rhodia’, where a riff that comes on like a Led Zep lift is delivered with a rough and ready noise-rock approach.

For context, my first exposure to live music was electric blues acts playing in pubs in my home town of Lincoln, at the tail end of the 80s and very dawn of the 90s. While I was just starting to discover alternative music – via the top 40 and also Melody Maker – I was still that bit too young to go to ‘proper’ gigs, and besides, there weren’t (m)any in Lincoln back then. But what struck me was the musicianship of so many of the acts, many of which would play a mix of originals and covers, and I also came to appreciate how everything blues-based springs from an extremely limited root stock. ‘Derivative’ isn’t really a criticism that holds any water. But, to make blues rock work, it has to either the executed extremely well, or otherwise fuck with the formula in some way, and bring something different to the party. Either is really, really hard to do in such an immense field. The last decade or so has seen countless acts achieve success with some pretty mediocre blues rock played loud: I began to think I was bored of blues. But then an album like Soul To Burn turns up unexpectedly, doing it with a real punk attitude, and turns everything around.

Whereas many power trios – not to mention duos, who are the power trio of the post-millennium years – go all-out to fill every inch of space with sound, Reciprocate create space and separation. Everything isn’t blasting to the max, and instead, what we get is a rare level of detail. The bending strings, the fret buzz, the rattle of the snare, the ragged imperfections – they’re all there, and are integral to the fabric of the recordings.

They do melody and groove, and it’s enjoyable, but when they wander off track, as they do most spectacularly towards the end of ‘Pissed Hymn’ there’s something truly glorious about it. The title track is ahead-on collision between Shellac-like mathiness and raucous, rabble-rousing folk. Everything gets twisted and knotted up, the template gets tangled and torn, and it’s unpredictable and exciting.

And it’s got a cat on the cover. 10/10

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