Posts Tagged ‘guitars’

Sub Pop – 14th October 2025

This one has seemingly come out of nowhere. And it’s on Sub Pop. And they’re calling it a Maxi 12”, as was the term for a 12” EP back in the 80s and 90s. And I suppose it does actually quality, given that the old-school Maxis tended to feature either two tracks per side, or an extended version of the single, plus B-sides, and that’s then case here. But with this being a sunn O))) release, the lead track is just shy of fourteen minutes in duration, and the tracks on the flip are eight and seven-and-a-half-minutes long respectively. Back then, a maxi would cost maybe £3.50, or £3.99 (I’m talking about the ‘90s: it was a couple of quid in the 80s… I can’t actually remember the price of an LP in the 80s, but have receipts sitting inside sleeves that verify that in 1994, a new LP on vinyl cost around £7 and a CD £11… so the fact that this ‘maxi’ is $25 tells you all you need to now about inflation and capitalism and how times have changed.

Anyway. The three tracks on this release, with a total running time of almost half an hour are notable as ‘first official sunn O))) studio recordings to feature only the original core duo on heavily saturated electric guitars and synthesis.’ It’s also introduced with a sense of elevation that’s typical sunn O))), when they inform us that ‘sunn O))) gave extreme focus and care to each step and aspect of the recording, each tone and level of saturation, each gain stage and speaker, each arrangement and harmonic. The Pacific Northwest forest is our guide.’

‘Eternity’s Pillars’ is a raging behemoth of feedback and sustain, every chord struck a billowing beast that punches through the endless drone, and while it is unquestionably classic sunn O))), it also brings together the defining elements of early Earth, in particular Earth 2, an album which effectively created the blueprint for the entirety of sunn O)))’s existence. Not a lot happens: that’s never the point. Downtuned guitars churn the bowels, scraping and snarling their way to monumental, megalithic sustain, though a continuous whine of feedback, each strike hanging in the air for what feels like an eternity. The pace is a crawl. Time stalls. It’s absolutely punishing. New shapes emerge, fleetingly, toward the end, notes rising like monuments from a cloud of smoke – by no means a melody, but it’s a progression, a change in mood.

‘Raise the Chalice’ is named ‘for a rallying cry often uttered by Northwest legend Ron Guardipee throughout the mid-1990’ – making it their second composition in his honour (the other being 2023’s ‘Ron G Warrior’, which was also released on Sub Pop), and opens with a full growl like a giant engine slowly revving , but instead of revving up, it gradually revs down into a slow-churning sonic abyss. It doesn’t sound, or feel much like a rallying cry. With the density of dark matter, the enormity of the sound engulfs the senses. By the arrival of ‘Reverential’, there’s a feeling of exhaustion, as if all the light and oxygen has been extracted, and yet still the sound continues to apply a crushing pressure.

While it’s difficult to really rank or compare sunn O))) releases as to what constitutes their ‘best’ or ‘heaviest’ work, this is certainly classic, quintessential sunn O))), and it’s very, very heavy indeed.

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WHITEHORSE is the new band from Thomas Haywood, the former frontman of The Blinders. Their new single ‘Red Riptide’  is released on the 2nd of September, riven with urgency, with guitar licks like knives being unsheathed, dexterous basslines, scampering drums and a vocal that simmers, broods and reaches crescendo. It’s about being completely clear-headed and in a place of certainty in your mind, and the rushing feeling of violence that comes with determination when you’re cutting through the chaos and staying true to a vision you’re so certain of.

They say “It’s as heavy as we go at the moment and to me describes desire in a tune and screams ‘fucking come on then’ to anything thrown your way
"It was written when heavy rains burst the waters of a riverbank and the whole thing was just gushing all over the place and it set me off big time.”
Formed in Sheffield in late 2024 by Haywood alongside Bobby Bouché, John McCullagh & Nathan Keeble, and James Keith.

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Robert Poss vs. Opollo is a new collaboration between Jarek Leskiewicz and Robert Poss (Band of Susans).

OTAGO is an expansive, textured, semi-ambient guitar work with some bold sounds and brooding atmospheres.

It’s available to stream or download via Bandcamp on a ‘pay what you feel’ basis. Check it here, along with the visual accompaniment to ‘Destroyed Wild Bird’:

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Christopher Nosnibor

My review of JUKU’s debut, at a Sunday matinee show last summer, continues to receive significant hits, and while they have played only a limited number of shows in the interim, it seems their reputation has been growing without their needing to take to the stage. It does mean that, personally, I’m keen to see them whenever the rare opportunity arises, and April seems like a long time ago.

They don’t disappoint: this is one tight, loud, band, and they pack the songs in back to back, no chat, no pissing about tuning up, no stalling to mop brows or regain breath. There isn’t a weak song in their half-hour set, but there are some standouts: ‘Pressure’ has the gritty drive of Motorhead and ‘No Fun’ is, actually, much fun. The set packs riffs and hooks like The Ramones on steroids… the lead guitarist is understated, focused, while on the other side of the stage, Dan is going ballistic, stomping and thrashing every ounce from his guitar like a man possessed. Sonically, they create contrast, too, with crisp, twangy tones cut through the huge, distorted roar blasting from Dan’s amp. They’re practically faultless, and the set ends in a ragged howl of feedback.

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JUKU

When the opening act is this strong, it’s a guaranteed good night either way: the rest of the acts are going to have to be bloody good to top them, in which case you’ve got a run of belters, or if they don’t match up, you can go home early knowing you’ve seen the best band of the night by getting down early. Tonight proves to be a bit of both.

New England trio Perennial – comprising guitar, synth, and drums, with dual vocals, are here on their first UK tour in support their third album, Art History, released over here by York-based label Safe Suburban Home Records. Sporting matching striped tops, they look vaguely nerdy, and unless you’ve heard or seen them before, nothing can quite prepare you for their wild stage act. Chelsea (keyboards, vocals) windmills and bounces all over, hyper as hell, and Chad Jewett, who’s a big fella, is a blur of movement, jumping and lurching and hurling himself and his guitar around, almost toppling his cabs just a couple of songs in. They positively crackle with energy, and are clearly absolutely loving every second of what is a remarkably well-conceived and structured set. They play US punk rock – or ‘modernist punk’ as they call it – with wit, and a keen sense of humour, delivering entertainment amped to the max. They clearly had a fair few fans in, and there was some exuberant dancing down the front. Definitely one of those bands that, if you get the chance, you should see.

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Perennial

Moose Knuckle showcase a solid sound, and some swagger, but the bar has been set incredibly high. They don’t have nearly as much energy as either of the two previous acts (although more every than Perennial would probably cause a power cut across the entire city), and they’re simply not quite loud enough or otherwise sonically powerful to get away with such a static performance. On another night, or had the bill been reversed, they’d have been decent enough, but they’re very much a meat and two veg rendition of punk, with most of the songs’ lyrics involving the repetition of a single line about forty times. And they’re not exactly inspired lines, either: ‘I need my dope, dope, dope, dope, dope,’ and ‘Dead! Beat! Daddy!’ is about the level of lyrical quality, the level of the lyrical quality, the level of the lyrical quality, the level of the lyrical quality.

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Moose Knuckle

Starting the set by calling everyone forward, only for them to all have to step back again to make way for the videographer prowling back and forth the full width of the stage a t least twice every song kinda backfired a bit, too.

Ultimately, there was nothing really ban about their set, it just lacked inspiration and energy in contrast to the previous acts.

The format of the night worked well, though: three bands, half an hour each, fifteen-minute interludes, 10:20 finish. Bish, bash, bosh. Perfect for midweek, and y’know, two outta three ain’t bad.

2nd October 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Christ only knows what this is intended to be a soundtrack to, but the debut long-player from chaotic Welsh post-punky alternative rock act Baby Schillaci could be loosely considered a concept album. The soundtrack to a schizophrenic episode, perhaps?

Opening with ‘## TITLE SEQUENCE ##’ and with ‘## INTERVAL ##’ breaking the sequence midway through, there’s a semblance of a structure here, and while some of the titles do hint at a narrative art in keeping with ‘real’ soundtracks – ‘DISINTEGRATING SMALL TALK’ and ‘JACKIE’S GIRL’, for example, elsewhere there just seems to be more of an interest in brutality and mortality – consider ‘BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA’ and the crazed, explosive single cut ‘THE FLATLINERS’.

The aforementioned ‘title sequence’ brings tension – a stark piano and brooding bass builds and ultimately yields to a surge of expansive abstract dissonance, but with a widescreen, cinematic feel, before ‘ULTRA HD HAPPY FACE’ blasts in with some thick, scuzzy guitars and there’s a strong early 90s alternative vibe to it. But as much as it’s Jacob’s Mouse and the Jesus Lizard, it’s got that roaring grunge revival thing going on, and calls to mind Pulled Apart by Horses’ debut album. ‘tHe AnTi suNCreaM LEaGUe’ comes on like Therapy? in collaboration with Sleaford Mods with a bit of Rage Against the Machine going on, which on paper shouldn’t work, but it’s an absolute riot: furious overdriven guitars nagging at a cyclical riff paired with a relentless, vitriolic spoken word rant hits the mark, and again reminds us – at least those of us who were there – just how eclectic the 90s alternative scene was. This was the decade when shit got weird, in a good way. It was a time which will be forever synonymous with grunge and Britpop, but it also gave us the previously unthinkable musical hybrid of the Judgement Night soundtrack, and a whole host of less-than-obvious crossovers. Pop Will Eat Itself were a one-band hybrid of infinite proportions, while Faith No More were more contained but no less genre-busting, and there was just so much weird shit happening the only question was as to what’s going to happen next. Sadly, the answer was Oasis, and while interesting stuff was still happening on the fringes, Oasis simultaneously killed indie and alternative and musical innovation with their turgid pub-rock monopoly.

Built around a thick, low-slung, grinding bass, ‘DISINTEGRATING SMALL TALK’ has something of the industrial roar of Filter about it, but then again, some of the stoner swagger of Queens of the Stone Age. These guys don’t limit themselves when it comes to their songwriting. Genre? Pfft. Look, if it sounds good and they get to kick out some dirty noise, it’s good. And this IS good.

‘THE FLATLINERS’ starts out like early Interpol before flooring the pedal and accelerating in a deluge of guitar and frenetic drumming, and it’s like at least three songs in one, and it’s this crazed shift from one thing to another which defines The Soundtrack. Closer ‘BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA’ is a sort of motoric workout where The Fall and The Black Angels collide, but the sound is solid and it builds to a mighty climax.

The thing The Soundtrack needs now is the accompanying movie… I’ve no idea what it would look like, but it would be wild!

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Baby Schillaci - The Soundtrack Artwork BIG

28th March 2024

It’s that time of year again, when, in the UK, you may be forgiven for thinking that the entire music industry is camped out at Glastonbury. This, however, is a chronic misrepresentation, and all around the world, there are quite literally hundreds of thousands of music-makers who have absolutely no connection with the event, no currency, and no interest.

Seeing a few brief snippets on BBC news, with grinning attendees being asked for their views on their experience so far and who they’re looking forward to, I was stuck by just how middle class – and / or middle-age – a lot of those taking heads are. These are the type of people who can afford the £350+ tickets on a punt for ‘the experience’ and the increasingly limited off chance of some decent or interesting acts. The headliners are so safe, predictable, bland, and there’s not much to be said of much of the lower orders, either: the only acts worth seeking out are probably those you’ve never heard of playing in the minor tents who’ve probably had to pay a heap to get in.

Despite the immense coverage and the vast audience, it’s not representative of the majority of the music scene, industry or beyond, and for that majority, things go on as normal. And so it is that we have a new single from Brighton’s brightest, brashest metal new hopes, Eville, hot on the heels of whipping up some crowds on tour with Glitchers, and likely winning new fans in the process.

Anyone who discovered them on this tour will not be disappointed, and having followed them from their very incarnation, I’m not, either.

This latest offering, co-written and produced by Harry Winks of South Arcade, pulls everything that makes Eville an exciting act together and blasts it out hard. With their roots and influences firmly in early noughties nu-metal, they’re as much, if not more about Deftones and Pitch Shifter than Limp Bizkit or Korn, exploring the darker terrains of a genre which came to be maligned as it mutated into sports metal.

As is typical of the genre but also a defining feature of what Eville have come to own as their sound, ‘Dead Inside’ pitches clean melody and rabid growling vocals against one another over a backdrop of guitars denser than lead. It’s the perfect balance of accessible levity and monstrous heaviness.

But they also embrace contemporary pop tropes, with the overt and sometimes quite wince-inducing application of autotune. In this respect, they’re quite the conundrum, and products of our confusing, conflicted, incoherent times. They are the very manifestation of the widening generation gap, appropriating from their parents’ generation while staunchly representing their own. There are no limits.

It’s both musically and emotionally articulate, and represents another flawless entry to their killer catalogue.

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1st December 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

The Australians seem to have a knack for full-throttle, high-energy punk-tinged guitar acts, where there’s a strong focus on fun. They certainly have a long punk heritage down under, with The Saints kicking things off way back in 1973, and their debut single, ‘I’m Stranded’ arriving within weeks of The Damned’s ‘New Rose’. Perhaps it’s the sun and surf, or just the broader culture in Australia which produces bands like this, cutting their teeth in tiny venues and even house parties.

Fun doesn’t have to be dumb, bone-headed or moronic: DZ Deathrays and Mannequin Death Squad are both notable exemplars who’ve proven to be popular exports here in the UK, and to that list we can add Annakye, demonstrating some songwriting savvy and an appreciation of the fact that a strong hook is everything.

‘Headstart’ is two-and-a-half minutes of big, buzzing guitars that shift from driving riffery to lurching stop/start with clattering drums that hammer in hard and paired with a bustling, busy bassline with some punch and bounce, it’s got moshery emanating from every second.

On paper, ‘Two seconds apart / head start’ isn’t much of a hook, but it’s all in the delivery – and repetition goes a long way when it comes to lodging it in your brain. Earworm? Nailed it.

Criminal Records – 24th February 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Strange sense of deja-vu? Whatchoo talkin’ about? Whatchoo talkin’ about? Lori wants to know on the lateest kick-ass single from Weekend Recovery.

Yes, ‘No Guts, All the Glory’ was released as ‘No Guts’, the lead track to the EP of the same name, almost a year ago to the week, but a year on it’s getting a reboot thanks to an arts council grant, and the nomadic power trio currently based in Sheffield are releasing a rerecorded radio edit version of this solid tune as the second single from their upcoming third album, Esoteric, ahead of more touring activity.

Perhaps the hardest thing about being a band nowadays is maintaining profile. Social media and Spotify has changed the model, and we’re back to the 1960s when artists are conveyor-belt release-machines. You don’t release anything for six months and it’s like starting over: people have forgotten you exist and you may as well be a new band climbing the mountain of audience-building. Well, perhaps not quite, but still. While the nostalgia market for the over forties for whom time stood still from their thirtieth birthday, for the rest, memories are short.

Weekend Recovery have done a pretty decent job of keeping a flow of activity and output and social media engagement, and recently signing to The Kut’s Criminal Records imprint certainly hasn’t done then any harm. This timely release won’t, either.

Rerecorded it may be, but it’s certainly not hyper-polished and sanitised ready for Radio 1. Smoothed out with some eddying synths and Lori’s vocals switched up in the mix and sounding a bit cleaner, and clearer, it is more radio friendly than the original version, but it’s not totally cleaned-up and sugary: the guitar, bass, and drums are still absolutely driving and the song feels urgent, as if they’re playing like they depend on killing it. And they do. It’s a storming tune, and I for one am revved for the album.

Sharpen your knives and prepare yourself for another BLOODBATH! Massive death metal beasts BLOODBATH are prepared to annihilate with their sixth full-length album, Survival Of The Sickest, out this Friday via Napalm Records. Vicious, unrelenting, and thrillingly violent, the critically-acclaimed, cult-followed band has no limitations, leaving the scene in shreds while skilfully fusing old-school Scandinavian harshness with a dose of Floridian U.S. death metal.

BLOODBATH have now revealed their most crushing track yet, “No God Before Me”, released alongside a brand new lyric video today! On this relentless offering, “Old Nick” Holmes and his bandmates crucify with a blasphemic explosion, ensnaring with a sinister churning riff while coalescing elements of death and doom metal. Boasting one of the album’s most hair-raising solos, “No God Before Me” is a prime example of the band’s triumphant evolution.

Jonas Renkse on “No God Before Me”:

"’No God Before Me’ is a slow, churning hymn of death, a description of a godless afterlife as well as a massive nod to the masters of sickness themselves: Morbid Angel."

Watch the lyric video for “No God Before Me” by Bloodbath:

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Bloobath

Christopher Nosnibor

Seems like gigs at the Vaults are cursed when I go. Just as headliners Witch of the East cancelled the last time I was down, so PAK40 have had to bail due to Covid. Yep, over two years on and it’s still having a significant impact on live music. But the good news is that REDFYRN are worth turning out for, as previous outings have shown, and even prior to PAK40’s withdrawal, it had the air of a double-header.

It’s fucking melting. I mean, I’m drinking cider, it’s that mafting. And I’m sweating it out faster than I can drink it. My skin is like a sieve or muslin bag. It must be absolutely punishing on stage.

Openers Beswick get off to a bit of a ragged start. But then, it is their first gig in three years, and they’re not looking like the kind of band who get tour-tight. It would be wrong to complain about the lack of guitar definition with a black metal band, and they lean towards the lower, slower end, where everything slips into a sludgy mid-range mesh, thanks to the five-string bass and seven-string guitar and the most fuckedest cymbal I’ve seen in use in a long time.

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Beswick

The main vocalist has three distinct styles: a penetrating, shivering squawk, a low growl, and a cleanish, atonal punk snarling shout, which actually works at least half of the time as they swing towards a dingy punk style at various points during the set. They do seem like a band in a bit of a stylistic quandary as they slither hither and thither, but they’re solid entertainment. The final song is a nod to their previous incarnation as Tokechamber, and sees the set conclude with billowing drone doom chords and feedback. I would have happily watched that for an hour.

REDFYRN start as they mean to go on, bringing the riffs slow and steady, with more five-string bass groove through an immense effects rack. The bassist has bounding energy, smashing every note with fists and feet, and the weighty guitars contrast with the soaring vocals. Big brave but stoner with a bluesy twist, chunky gritty riffs.

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REDFYRN

The solos aren’t overdone, and showcase the fact Cat Redfern is an excellent guitarist on a technical level as well as being a heavy hitter. She plays with only a handful of pedals, but a lot of crunch and a big dense sound and big volume.

A big hairy moshpit happened during the last song, and the half dozen beardy guys going crackers down the front was enough to bring the band back for one more, and they encore with ‘Unreal’, to an even more vibrant response. For a hot Thursday night when people would have likely been lured to a beer garden to toast the announcement of the Prime Minister’s departure, albeit at some time in the future, and for a stand-in headline slot, REDFYRN delivered a commanding performance and owned the night. Having only recently found themselves in headline slots, REDFYRN look ready to take it to the next level.