Posts Tagged ‘Noise Rock’

Christopher Nosnibor

Just over six years ago, one of my favourite labels, Cruel Nature Records, released Pachinko, the third EP / mini-album from Newcastle noisemongers Ballpeen – a band appropriately named, given their capacity to hammer home heavyweight riffs with bludgeoning brutality. With noise rock, grunge, and hardcore punk all in the mix Pachinko was rabid, raw, primitive, recorded, not produced.

2020 was a productive year for them, with the release of two live recordings and a split EP, and 2021 saw the stop-gap EP Bunch of Sevens, which featured material recorded in 2017 at the same time as their debut release. And then, silence. It transpires that they sadly called it a day some time after this. They’re not the first band to abort before the release of their debut album by any means, but the shock news is that they actually recorded an album which then got ditched.

But now here it is. Ballpeen are no more, but finally, there is closure in the delivery of the lost album, What You Need, What You Deserve. And it’s a beast. Thirteen songs packed into thirty-seven minutes. That’s an average of approximately 2.8 minutes apiece. And into these compressed timescales, they pack in so much energy, so much explosive riffery, and so much… just so much.

The first single, released in May, is also the first track on the album, and from ‘Modern Life is Hell’, it’s immediately apparent just how much they’d evolved from previous releases. It’s by no means polished or pop, but the sound is crisper, denser, the songwriting more sophisticated, a solid hook snaring the listener early, with a sound and style which warrants comparisons with Hawk Eyes, who are also now sadly missed. And the sentiment probably resonates more powerfully now than when it was recorded. How times have changed – and not for the better. We thought the pandemic was hell – because it was. But little could we have anticipated what was to come.

What follows is nothing short of a gut-busting guitar-driven blast. ‘Unit Three’ amalgamates the steely nihilism and sinewy strain of Kowloon Walled City with a thick bass-driven grunge heft. There are some neat descending bass runs in the second half of the song which remind me of something else, but we’re into the squalling wall of feedback that drives ‘Poverty of Ambition; before my brain has remotely got itself into gear. But ballpeen are very much in gear: there’s no mid-album slump, no breath-catching ballad here. Instead of slowing the pace, they crank up the distortion and stoke up the rage.

The bass on the intro to ‘Engram Theory’ is nothing short of rib-rattling, a chunky, clunky, bruising assault of pure density, reminiscent of Shellac, for sure, but closer to that of Blacklisters with their original bassist – which is a fair comparison for the song as a whole, really, and it provides a welcome reminder of just how the North of England has been so strong in its generation of noisy bands over the last fifteen ears or so. Seattle and Chicago have the longstanding reputation for their scenes, but we’re looking back to the late eighties and early nineties for their heydays: more recently, Leeds and Newcastle have proven to be the crucial hotspots, and Ballpeen’s contribution is strong. The belated arrival of What You Need, What You Deserve only cements this view.

Second advance single, ‘Ukiah’ is yet another fiery onslaught, and compels one to consider what might have been. It’s true that such speculation is futile, and instead of mourning, we should be grateful, and the juddering riff of ‘Crossing Waters’ provides every reason to be grateful. It hits so hard, it makes you sweat. There isn’t a weak moment on What You Need, What You Deserve. In fact, there’s barely a moment to catch breath. It’s intense, alright.

There can be little doubt that it’s best to quit while you’re on top, kill things while you’re at the peak of your game (Nirvana perhaps took that a bit too literally, but Big Black are a fine example of a band who left a concise but unsullied legacy). And to the list, we can now add Ballpeen, a band who demonstrably saved their best for last.

What You Need, What You Deserve needs to be heard. It’s all killer and no filler, and more – and it doesn’t just go all the way to eleven: it starts at eleven and works its way up over its skull-cracking thirty-seven minutes. It’s the good shit alright, hitting with enough force as to dislodge your fillings.

This must surely be their legacy.

AA

cover

Cruel Nature Records – 31st July 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

It’s too hot. Granted, I make this complaint whenever it goes above 24C, but on day three – or maybe it’s day four or five or ten – of a 30-plus heatwave – the third heatwave of the year – I am absolutely dying. Typing is making me sweat like running a marathon. Hell, even thinking about typing is making me sweat like running a marathon. My brain is jelly.

The two bands have a side each on the vinyl, plus collaborative tracks closing each set.

I’ve devoted a fair quality of words effusing over the output of dour Derby dingemongers Pound Land, and as theirs is the second half of the album, I’ll focus first on the EMF who didn’t have any bouncy dance-driven indie hits in the 90s. Earh Mother Fucker formed in Ipswich – the hometown of the equally commercially-orientated Extreme Noise Terror – in 1988. Only unlike ENT, EMT (so close) didn’t record a bunch of Peel sessions, sign to Earache, or perform at The Brit Awards with The KLF before releasing a ridiculously rare collaborative single available only by mail order through Melody Maker or The NME. Again, so close.

Instead – and respect is due here – they’ve ploughed their own noise-rock furrow with a slow – very slow – flow of albums released on tape and CD-R. There was nearly a 20-year gap between Let Him Go Up (2001, CD-R) and It’s Shit (2020) and then another six years before the arrival of Do Not Resuscitate earlier this year. It seems they changed their mind, and are very much resuscitated, and two releases in a year is a real cause for celebration. Well, it is if you like Earth Mother Fucker.

There’s a sense that they don’t particularly want to be liked, and instead exist to test listeners with a uniquely English form of noise rock. Their solo cuts are scuzzy, grungy, abrasive and raw as it comes, but there are some sublime moments of melody, at least in the guitar department.

‘Happy Shopper’ powers in amidst a squall of angular guitars, landing primarily somewhere between The Fall and Sonic Youth. It’s a ramshackle racket, lo-fi grungy, gloriously unpolished. ‘Changeling’ does low-slung twisted country crossed with wonky noise and vocals – half-spoken, half-shouted, bridging Enablers and A Band of Susans. That’s a substantial gap to bridge, superficially, but Earth Mother Fucker span it with discordant, chaotic ease.

‘Puppy Fat’ is very much a spirit of 77 punk blast at heart, but twisted with a strong element of Krautrock as defined by its motorik beats, and almost veers into Fall-like Mancabilly. It also feels like the optimal summary of what EMF are about.

‘Second Aunt’, with Pound Land is a raucous maxed-out rendition of Eno’s ‘Third Uncle’, but based more on the Bauhaus cover than the original, and manifesting as a wild punky thrashabout.

Pound Land push things further still, ‘Liar’ being a rampant roar of disaffection. The bass is thick and booming, the production as gloriously primitive as the sax freak-out that runs all over it is wild. They lumber into even sludgier territory on ‘Janet’s Here’, a mangled mess of noise and snarling vocals atop that gut-churning bass giving it a hint of early PiL. ‘Feeling Sick’ lumbers and lurches in such a way it becomes a work of self-fulfilment, a musical manifestation of dire disgust and seething (self) loathing.

‘Shitoctacy’ sees Pound Land joined by Earth Mother Fucker, and is a true monster, with a collage of sped-up samples overlaid across some weirdy, warping drones before a ten-minute trudge begins, grimy bass and spewing vitriol atop the nastiest, most discordant racket, and from time to time there’s some pained sax from Jo Stone which wails in anguish over the whole heaving mess.

As split albums go, this one couldn’t have been better curated: it feels like the two bands – particularly with the collaborative works – are egging one another on to take the levels of grime and slime and nauseating churn up, notch by notch. The result is gritty, gruelling, and spectacularly visceral.

AA

cover

Following the recent release of ‘Peace Trader,’ Swiss noise-rock collective Coilguns now return with a brand-new single, ‘Carbon Magic,’ taken from the band’s forthcoming album, due later this year via Humus Records.

Out now alongside an official video, the track arrives with the announcement of a new European tour that will culminate in a special hometown release show at Le Romandie in Lausanne on December 12, the band’s only Swiss performance of the run.

AA

Directed by Louis Jucker and filmed and edited by Valentin Lurthy, the video captures the band’s raw and uncompromising energy while reinforcing the song’s central message, which examines an uncomfortable contradiction in Switzerland: the growing obsession with exporting carbon emissions elsewhere rather than confronting the environmental consequences at home.

The band comments: “You only know the price we’ll pay.”

While Switzerland is debating a racist initiative aimed at “limiting” its population and denying migrants their fundamental humanitarian rights, it seems perfectly acceptable for our most prestigious universities to develop projects designed to liquefy our industry’s carbon emissions and export them to foreign countries, with the ultimate goal of burying them deep underground, as far away as possible from our Instagrammable landscapes. How can we be so stupid and selfish? Do we really want our borders to function like a filter that keeps people out, while letting our waste slip away.”

Through ‘Carbon Magic,’ Coilguns challenge the idea of so-called carbon compensation, questioning a system that seeks to bury environmental responsibility out of sight while maintaining the illusion of sustainability.

Musically, the track delivers everything that has made Coilguns one of the most vital and unpredictable voices in contemporary heavy music: abrasive noise-rock intensity, post-hardcore urgency, and a fearless willingness to confront difficult subjects head-on.

Recorded by Scott Evans (Thrice, La Dispute, Neurosis), with additional production from Ben Chisholm (Chelsea Wolfe, The Armed), and mixed by Tom Dalgety (Ghost, Pixies, Royal Blood), ‘Carbon Magic’ continues the band’s evolution while preserving the visceral and DIY spirit that has defined them from the very beginning.

To celebrate the release, Coilguns will embark on a European tour this November and December, bringing their energetic live show to the Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, and Switzerland.

Tour Dates
25.11 – Utrecht, NL BUY TICKETS
26.11 – Brussels, BE BUY TICKETS
28.11 – Antwerp, BE
29.11 – Tilburg, NL
02.12 – Cologne, DE
04.12 – Hamburg, DE
05.12 – Berlin, DE
06.12 – Munich, DE
12.12 – Lausanne, CH (Release Show)

AA

f15a3d62-a0ec-4769-ffbe-369218f9d1c6

Photo by Andy Ford

Welfare Sounds & Records – 8th May 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

The Family Men sound like a bunch of nice, respectable, friendly fellows who espouse upstanding, moral values… in name, that is. Musically, they describe what they do as ‘Total Harmful Sound’, and following the release of their debut No Sound Forever in 2024, their bio records that ‘the band have toured extensively across Sweden and beyond, steadily building a reputation as one of the most intense and uncompromising live acts on the circuit. That relentless momentum feeds directly into Co/de/termination, a natural yet sharper continuation of their sonic evolution.’

They go on to add, ‘Pushing both intensity and precision to new extremes, the album refines the band’s sound into something tighter, heavier, and more deliberate than before. Urgent yet controlled, abrasive yet purposeful, Co/de/termination stands as a focused and uncompromising statement’. It’s certainly a bit more accessible, a bit cleaner, than its predecessor, but then, most records are.

‘Calamity’ arrives in a swirl of noise, the repetitive motifs of grunge – but also in some respects reminiscent of Pitchshifter after the change from being Pitch Shifter – with metallic guitars set to stun, and percussion pumping hard – while the raw, ragged vocals are more rooted in hardcore. And it all blasts in amidst a noise-rock tumult that bucks and blisters, acid house bleeps suddenly submerged in a tidal wave of guitar and driving bass. ‘Scanner’ and ‘Luxury’, too, belong in part to the Nu-metal revival, while clearly retaining roots in industrial and noise rock, and it makes for a pretty potent (and angry-sounding) cocktail.

AA

In places – ‘AOR’, and ‘Solving the Light Issue’ for example – they invite comparisons to early Revolting Cocks, colliding electro and industrial strength guitar atop some infectious – and really quite danceable – bass grooves and shouty vocals. The latter of these, in particular, boasts a particularly phat, distorted bass sound and pounding beat, and for all of the gnarliness and aggression of the sound – and Co/de/termination is an album that’s fully in-yer-face – it’s apparent that The Family Men know how to render a certain swing and introduce a level of catchiness.

AA

That said, elsewhere, they just go all out on the attack: ‘Heaven’ hits as a brawling scuzzfest, laden with feedback reminiscent of the most ferocious cuts on Daughters’ You Won’t Get What You Want (an album sadly sullied by subsequent revelations regarding their front man). Elsewhere still, the hypnotic, spacious ‘New Clear’ ventures towards shoegaze territory. Rather than seeming incongruous, it’s welcome, proving that it’s possible to create an album that’s focused while still having range.

It’s high-energy, high-octane stuff, and it’s certainly not tame or timid.

AA

a2670809488_10

17th April 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

The singles leading up to the release of The Hedonist, the second EP by The 113 have very much been cause for excitement and built a buzz about the band. Each of the four songs is tense, taut, edgy, quickfire vocals spitting lyrical depictions of the grim present in which we find ourselves with a splenetic urgency against a noisy backdrop where the combination of bass, drums, and guitar – in themselves, completely conventional – meld to forge a dense, unified aural assault.

As they put it, The Hedonist ‘revolves thematically around an anti-technology sentiment, raising questions about data, online worlds and how these can be weaponised against you.’ This – and various surveys and reports – is indicative of an increasingly anti-technology (and certainly an anti-AI) sentiment among younger generations. They have reason for concern, and it’s hard to decide what’s scarier, the prospect how personal data will be used, or how entire swathes of jobs will cease to exist in the imminent future. Anyone who blithely pisses about making caricatures and action figures in the name of fun is not only missing the point: they’ve already sold their soul and more. They’re part of the machine.

We’re living in every single dystopian fiction ever created all at once, right now. This isn’t hyperbole. And it feels as if we’re all trapped and helpless. It’s small wonder we’re experiencing a mental health crisis as we see an entire generation coming through paranoid and scared as we witness an existential threat in many ways worse than the cold war, inasmuch as it’s a war on all fronts.

The 113 recognise this, and The Hedonist is an articulation of this infinitely-faceted terror. Every single track is a standout, and in sustaining the high level of intensity across the whole EP, the potency of the material is amplified. Where The Hedonist succeeds is in the way it doesn’t depart from the blueprint of the debut, To Combat Regret, but instead builds on it.

It’s by no means music to chill out to: quite the opposite, in fact. It’ll likely raise your blood pressure and make you clench your jaw and fists. But if there’s a band that encapsulates the zeitgeist, it’s The 113.

AA

012The113_Jan26Press_BNW

17th April 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

I happen to know a fair few people who suffer from gout – which may be an indication of my age and the people I associate with – and they will all attest that it really is an ‘actual bastard’. But the title of this EP is also so, so Glaswegian. Living in Glasgow for four years, I came to appreciate that not only is Scotland culturally very different from England – something tourists probably don’t get to absorb in a week or two – but Glasgow has a culture, and a dialect, and countless turns of phrase which are unique to Glasgow. Following my time there, ‘Actual Bastard’ sounds like Glasgow, and the only way it could sound more Glasgae is if it was called Pure Bastard, Pure Wee Bastard¸ or maybe Fuckin Bawbag Cunt Bastard. Glasgow’s probably the only place on the planet where you can call a colleague a cunt in the office and not get into trouble because it’s a term of endearment as well as an insult.

Gout features members of Glasgow bands Lucia & the Best Boys and The Ninth Wave. As the bio notes, though, Gout is ‘a far cry from these projects, however’ (And having caught The Ninth Wave at Live at Leeds (I think) many moons ago, I can attest to this), Gout distils the intensity of hardcore with the low, driven crush of sludge forebears’.

No two ways about it: Actual Bastard is an absolute rager, with rabid, throat-ripping vocals raving and raw over filthy, low-slung churning riffs. The first track, ‘nmate’ lurches headlong into punishing, sludge-laden dirt, calling to mind The Jesus Lizard and the like, but scratcher, heavier, more overtly metal. ‘Too Bleak’ ratchets up the savagery, making for an eardrum-busting assault – but it’s tame in the face of ‘I Am A Beacon of Health and Wellbeing’ which sees the riffery go straight-up Godflesh and the tuning go way down to conjure the most ferocious hybrid of 90s noise rock and extreme metal.

AA

If ‘Junk Sick’ goes a bit easier, with clean chorus-tinged guitar and a slugging bass, it’s not without a brutal lurch into extremity, going early Pitch Shifter meets Fudge Tunnel around the midway point.

‘Tarmac’ brings peace at last with a spoken word narrative and clean guitar strum. ‘I’m the eldest of two / You’re the youngest of three / I’m just tarmac to you / you can walk all over me… just walk all over me’, Ally Scott mutters tensely. Here, it registers that this is not just a band doing it for a bit of a laugh: there’s real emotional depth buried amidst the tempest of noise. But of course this revealingly introspective moment is swiftly swallowed in a welter of noise. What does cut through is pure rage and anguish, a cathartic offloading of trauma, amidst a swirl of metal meets shoegaze. The impact level is high, and ‘Tarmac’ only elevates the power of Actual Bastard. I’m foraging for words here, in the face of overwhelming musical might.

Gout sure as hell don’t hold back, and Actual Bastard is a flailing, furious, rampant, relentless beast of an EP.

AA

ACTUAL_BASTARD_EP_COVER_ART

EMI North / Launchpad+ – 30th March 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

The 113 have done it again – only this time, more so. Like its predecessors, single ‘When I Leave’ is take from the forthcoming debut EP, The Hedonist, which is due to land on 17th April. And once again, it steps things up.

It follows the noisy path of debut, ‘Leach’, a vitriolic blast which powers in on a thick, thunderous overdriven bass, paired with an attack of heavy-hitting, cymbal-smashing percussion, slamming in with hard impact in the opening bars. Immediately, it’s the sound of a band that means business and arrives with a physical force. The vocals are straight in with a pumped-up spleen-venting tone of disaffection, and on this outing, the focus of their dissection and dissatisfaction with the conditions of contemporary living is lasered in on ‘the personal, exploring the gamified and repetitive nature of dating apps, where every interaction can seemingly begin to blur into the next’.

The accompanying notes expand on this, explaining how ‘the track captures that specific sense of cyclical monotony; scripted conversations, fleeting intimacy, and the almost inevitable feeling of disillusionment that can occur following the search for something real within systems designed with the purpose of endless scrolling: “Nice to meet you! Scratch the skin and we’re done, and hold the stench of a thousand pros playing for fun”.

Does anyone actually gain anything but grief and stress from dating apps? A few shit experiences, perhaps gathering a stalker or pest along the way, but really, how many find love – versus how many find nothing but the dregs of humanity?

It’s perhaps relevant to mention here that I met my (now late) wife online, in a music chatroom, at the turn of the millennium, before dating sites existed and before it was socially acceptable to meet people from online in real life. Her friends and parents were far from encouraging about her meeting me: back in 2000, the perception was that the Internet was full of weirdos, creeps, stalkers, and worse. Now… perhaps we’re more willing to take those gambles with the ever-expanding creep of isolation as a result of floating office hours, where people only see one another occasionally, the death of after-work drinks, and social media taking precedence over in-person interaction. How do you meet new people nowadays? Is this really what we’ve come to? It would seem the answer is yes….

And then, the guitar kicks in over that thick bass and pounding percussion, and it’s squalling and dissonant and then everything hits a laser focus to drive home a blistering chorus – their strongest yet – and POW! ‘When I Leave’ is two minutes and thirty-seven seconds of concentrated, distilled intensity.

AA

AA

0d196b4a-4c79-956e-eb71-fd2197f121c9

Credit: Naomi Whitehead

Fucking North Pole Records / Captured Records – 20th March 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

This single is pitched as ‘a split release that pairs Norwegian noise-rock abrasion with Japanese stoner-psych experimentation, bringing together two bands that thrive on doing things their own way’.

Its arrival is times just before Barren Womb launch a live assault on the UK, which threatens some big noise. Their half of this single, ‘The Perils of Self-Improvement’, which they describe as ‘a mid-tempo stomper delivering grim news for the supposed wisdom of self-help culture’ is an offcut from the Chemical Tardigrade sessions which they withheld specifically for this release, and it sure is a beast, which works particularly well as a standalone release. It’s got grit and grind as well as melody. The verses are hefty, trudging slabs of noise where the bass rumbles and the guitar jabs and the pair – consisting of Timo Silvola (drums/vocals) and Tony Gonzalez (guitar/vocals) manage to blend elements of Melvins and the Jesus Lizard with a dash of psychedelia.

AA

AA

On the flipside, Hylko really go all out on the psych, presenting a deep, dark, spinning riff which lumbers and lurches amidst a swathe of flange and reverb. And then it suddenly goes all dark and dubby, with the added bonus of sounds of water and running rivers.

AA

AA

It’s a perfect split release: complimentary but most definitely contrasting, completely wild and all quality.

AA

733508