Posts Tagged ‘Punk’

Christopher Nosnibor

Two of the bands on tonight’s bill are fairly regular features here on Aural Aggravation: Knitting Circle have established themselves as solid staples of the York scene as exponents of pissed-off, political post-punk, while WENCH! originally from Hull but now a Leeds band on account of two-thirds of their members having relocated, are always worth making the effort to turn out for whenever they’re in the locale. But what’s particularly noteworthy about tonight’s lineup is that not only do we have three female-fronted acts, but more women on stage than men. This matters, because female representation is a topic which has been cycling in discussion for a few years now, and becomes particularly prominent when festival lineups are announced. There’s no shortage of women in music, either in bands or as solo performers, so why are so many gigs, and festivals in particular, so male-dominated? That’s perhaps a rhetorical question, but still. What’s more, it’s becoming increasingly apparent that women often rock harder than men. Perhaps it’s because they feel they have more to prove. Perhaps it’s because they’ve more to be angry about. There’s a lot to be angry about right now, of course, and that’s a dissertation in itself. I’m angry, as are most people I know. But as a white, middle class, and (reluctantly) middle-aged male, I recognise I don’t have centuries of patriarchal oppression and daily sexism and misogyny to push back on.

Up first, Knitting Circle open with ‘Where’s the Culture?’, which sets the tone in terms of the conversation sand the musical form – catchy, scratchy, and challenging the (patriarchal) status quo. ‘I am the Fox’ (a song against fox-hunting, told from the perspective of the fox) is particularly tense and bristly, part of its guitar line leaning heavily on ‘Not Great Men’ by Gang of Four. The fact that Pete Dale can actually play cutty, trebly guitar lines which are of a standard which puts him in the same frame as Andy Gill is testament to his guitar mastery. While there are new songs in their nine-song set, the fact that only one of them – set closer, ‘Losing My Eggs’ – is from their EP, and single, ‘Safe Routes’, which they dedicate to the RNLI has otherwise been released evidences the pace of their creative flow.

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Knitting Circle

It’s worth taking a momentary side-step here. This song feels even more poignant and important than ever: a few days ago, right-wing agitator Daniel Thomas, who seems to think that forming a masked militia is the pinnacle of patriotism, was filmed slashing a dinghy in the English Channel. Not by a news crew, but by an accomplice. And he posted it on social media to demonstrate his fierce opposition to ‘illegal’ immigrants – but in court pleaded not guilty to the actions he himself had shared evidence of. Then cried like a child when remanded in custody. Of course. But these so-called ‘illegal’ immigrants… where are the legal routes? They don’t exist. Meaning, we currently have no safe routes. But we do have a lot of people fleeing war… and then these right-wing fuckheads decide that the RNLI – an emergency service run by volunteers – are the bad guys for rescuing people from the sea, and are legitimate targets for abuse and intimidation. How low can you get, eh? This is why we need Knitting Circle more than ever – to remind us that not everyone is a nasty piece of shit with a racist agenda when things get bleak. And things are bleak right now.

Oh, but Under the Influence are an absolute revelation. Woah. The ‘UTI’ acronym is no accident, of course. Their objective is to sting. And they do, hitting hard with their brand of fast and furious authentic hardcore punk / grunge crossover. It’s not hard to see why the anarcho-noise Sheffield trio have scored support slots with the likes of Subhumans and Discharge and a Rebellion booking. Maisie’s vocals are a combination of ear-splitting screams and full-lunged roaring… and she plays her guitar so hard that her bottom E string goes in third song, ‘Dead Babies’. “Bollocks,” and “Fuck it,” she says, like a true plain-speaking Northerner. After some deliberation, she humbly accepts the offer of the loan of Pete from Knitting Circle’s guitar with which to play the rest of the set. ‘7 Naans’ – about ordering takeaway – shouldn’t be terrifying, but with a rabid Courtney Love howl it is positively nerve-shattering. They’re passionate, sincere, and not without humour. They have a song called ‘Vegan Reich’ simply because they hate the band Vegan Reich (which is a perfectly sound reason in my opinion). Eyes wide, Maisie spits and screeches words at a rate of nineteen to the dozen, backed by some ferocious drumming and thunderous bass.

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Under the Influence

Are we ready to be WENCHED? Well, as ready as well ever be ready to be hit with a shovel after being slammed with the two-by-four that was UTI. This is a band that brings all the attack and play so, so hard: the energy is infectious, and it’s like an electric current circulating through your body. During the very first song of the set, bassist Hebe loses her strap and singing drummer Kit sheds a cymbal. They don’t miss a beat or a note. Musically, they’re outstanding, and different in their compositional approach, with the bass often fulfilling the lead role. There are dual vocals, too, shared between guitarist Sev, and Kit, whose style is – at least in places, quite technical and almost jazzy, but played with metal force. Other times, she leans forward over her drums with an ogre-like posture and just fucking goes all out, and it’s brilliant to watch – not just her playing, but the interaction between the three and how they coalesce to create something so immensely powerful. They’re also disarmingly direct and spontaneous in between songs. This shouldn’t be mistaken for being amateurish by any means, but gives an insight into a band which is keeping it real in the truest sense. What you see is what you get. And what you see is three women who believe in social justice and not just women’s rights and feminist issues, but human rights and making the world a better place.

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WENCH!

‘Deep Fake’ may be slower, with a psych-hued swing, but it’s certainly no gentler, and their set is a combination of hooks and rage. They blast through the songs in significantly less than the allotted time, but they’ve done the job and then some.

For all of the anger, the rage which emanated from the stage, tonight felt like one of the most uplifting, unifying events imaginable. The bands – all articulating dissatisfaction with the status quo, speaking out against shit governments and shit behaviour – brought, in their own ways, a positive message and a sense that together, we can make things better, and in the meantime, we can have a blast venting through music. In the face of everything, we have to have hope. Tonight gave a vital reminder that we do. It also evidences why we shouldn’t aspire to keep politics out of music. Because politics affects all of us, every day, and using a platform to take a stand is a powerful, and positive thing. Here, we stand unified in hope, and against hate.

Tartarus Records – 2nd October 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Sometimes, and album comes crashing in and you feel its impact hard. It’s not so much an album as a massive detonation. A work that redefines its genre. An album that blows the top off our head.

Big Enemy by Bombstrap is that album. It’s s throbbing, gnarly, primitive punk album. So what’ s special about that? Bombstrap are special, in presenting a skin-peeling, furious rage what hurts. It’s not in any way refined or pretty, it’s raw and gritty and it’s real.

According to their bio, they were ‘born inside Rotterdam’s anarchist Poortgebouw community in 2025’and ‘have quickly established themselves as one of the most uncompromising new names in underground hardcore. Split between Manchester and Rotterdam, the four piece channels nihilism, black alchemy, and ultraviolence into a feral sound that owes as much to No Trend and Total Abuse as it does to a complete rejection of authority and conformity’.

They describe Big Enemy as ‘a blast of caustic, explosive hardcore delivered with ruthless precision’, and add that ‘Fueled by nihilism and anarchic conviction, the album is a sonic bullet aimed squarely at the heart of a corrupt society, uncompromising, abrasive, and impossible to ignore’. It’s hard to argue.

On the album’s second track, ‘Master Alchemist’, they step up and turn everything up to the max, and there’s no letup from hereon in. This is an album that grazes and cuts hard. Some of the bruising, raging noise belongs to the spirit of the early 90s – not just grunge, but riot grrl – but equally, Bombstrap belong the domain of hardcore punk and noise rock, and Big Enemy s a rabid and positively feral scream. This is an angry, explosive work. Every track is killer – and a pure distillation of nihilistic punk rage. ‘Machhiavellianism’ is, like half of the tracks on Big Enemy, well short of two minutes long – in fact, it’s only a second over one minute – and in that time they bring punk energy and a hundred miles an hour. There’s more than a dash of The Dead Kennedys to ‘Bakhmut’, and the final track, ‘Poppy Seeds’ is manic and packs a swaggering rock ‘n’ roll riff.

Big Enemy isn’t just a metaphorical ‘fuck you’ to the big enemy in all its forms – big government, corporations, billionaires, and all the rest, but a literal one, with a raging, exasperated ‘fuck you’ being a common refrain across the album’s ten tracks. And too right: sometimes, there are no other words that do the job, and all there is, is to scream out the most primal of invective. Big Enemy is Bombstrap telling it like it is. No bullshit, no pretence, Bombstrap are the real deal.

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Christopher Nosnibor

Llama Mollo have a lot of family and friends. And they’ve brought them all down. It feels more like a second cousin’s birthday party than five minutes after doors open for a gig showcasing a disparate bunch of bands when I arrive. My first thought is of how the grannies will take to Bitchcraft. My second thought was ‘good for them’. They’ve bought tickets and made the effort, which is more than can be said for many on a lot occasions, and maybe they’ll even have a good time.

The acoustic indie duo have some tidy tunes with poetical lyrics and deft guitar lines, and if they’re nervous making their debut, they don’t show it beyond the occasional awkward-sounding laugh. The reverb-soaked guitar part for ‘Inconspicuous’ has hints of Chris Isaak’s ‘Wicked Game’, and the song sees them share vocal duties for the first time in their seven-song set. In an unexpected plot twist, Lawrence (guitar and vocals) switches to electric guitar and takes the lead on the vocals for the last song, and there’s a drum machine pumping from the PA. ‘Mr Blue Shoes’ is post-punky and makes for quite the shift in every way, and, seemingly from out of nowhere, tells us that this is an act who have a lot up their sleeve, and much potential to explore. A very promising first outing, and one to add to the watchlist for 2027.

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Llama Mollo

BitchCraft spent their uni years developing their skills, and recently relocated to London to further evolve and to see if they can progress. On the evidence of tonight’s hometown return – holy shit. Leaps and bounds, leaps and bounds. There have been some moves in their ranks. Their new singer, Lily, is the former drummer who would previously switch with singer Amelie to front a couple of songs, and stepping up to take the mic on a full-time basis she’s really come into her own. It’s not just the vocals – which are so, so powerful, and she’s got a proper grunge roar that sends shivers down the spine and sets the hairs on the back of your neck aquiver – but she is a commanding presence who dominates the stage, and the entire room. The new drummer is powerful and energetic, too. The result is a set that’s raw, grungy, and finds them playing better than ever. New song ‘Loser’ hints at a poppier direction, and has swing as well as crunch. And then they close with a cover of L7’s ‘Shitlist.’ They absolutely nail it. They’re pure quality, and deserve a bright future in the big smoke.

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BitchCraft

There’s a certain element of controlled chaos about Chaffinch set – and a certain element of chaos without the control. The jarring interplay of the twin guitars sees them trading shards of treble over thick, rolling basslines and stop-start drums. The song structures aren’t conventional or even necessarily obvious, and there are parts which are semi-improvised, and not for the first time, I’m reminded of Shellac in they combine math-rock and noise-rock, discord and angularity. There’s not a moment where all four of them are on the stage (which makes getting a shot of the whole band a challenge, and the guitars are more often than not played in front of the stage and there are trailing cables and instrument swaps… although at least on this outing there’s enough concrete in front of the bass drum to keep the kit in place instead of encroaching forward towards the edge of what is a particularly bijou stage. But herein lies the joy of a Chaffinch set: there’s a physicality, a kineticism, to the performance, and just as the songs are in a state of continual flux, so there is perpetual movement on (and in front of) the stage, making for a hyperstimulating and highly entertaining experience.

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Chaffinch

Due to a late reshuffling of the schedule, Manchester’s Oort Clod, who should have been the main support before BitchCraft, find themselves in the headline slot. No pressure, then. They do a decent job of it, too, encouraged by a supportive and welcoming crowd, a respectable number of who have stuck around from the start. This is one of the things which makes these Utterly Fuzzled nights what they are: people turn up and are open to hearing different stuff, accepting they won’t love all the acts equally but providing a warm and accommodating atmosphere. It’s a DIY microscene unto itself, in some ways resembling that which centred around CHUNK in Leeds a few years ago, and the likes of which is rare – but absolutely vital for showcasing new and up-and-coming and niche acts.

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Oort Clod

Oort Clod present a set of two distinct halves: during the first, they’re a fairly middling jangly indie band in the British tradition of the mid-80s to early 90s. They avoid being twee, but are good fun. And then there’s the second half, which sees them turn towards a style that’s more US indie / college rock of the mid- to late-nineties. It’s a bit looser, more Pavementy. The switch is occasioned by a poetry intermission, during which bassist Richie, whose last gig it is before he goes travelling and exploring a career in writing reads a couple of pieces from his chapbook. It’s a bold move, which some would probably consider a bit wanky, but they wear their arty and literary leanings well, and with an admirable confidence. He is, after all, wearing a brocade jacket and thoroughly beaten-up hat perched atop his head, and if the wild amp feedback mars the moment somewhat, the fact they style it out with humour reveals the character of the band – and it makes them a good fit for Fuzzled, where there are no divas, no dickheads, and everything runs to time. And it’s a 10pm finish. All the win.

Ev Gold (guitar, vocals), Michael Jung (bass), and Stephen Moses (drums) make up GoJuMo, a noisy punk rock trio from Brooklyn. The three musicians first met in January 2016 through BC35, a weekend project celebrating the 35th anniversary of Brooklyn’s historic BC Studio, run by Martin Bisi (Swans, Sonic Youth). Artists connected to the studio over the years gathered to collaborate in different combinations, with Bisi documenting the sessions, which were later released by Bronson Recordings in 2018.

In the years that followed, Moses and Jung’s respective bands, Mustafina and Um, shared the stage several times with Gold’s Cinema Cinema. Then, in fall 2024, Gold reached out to Moses about starting a new project. What initially looked like a potential duo soon expanded when Moses suggested bringing Jung into the lineup. “I had loved Stephen’s drumming for quite a while and finally got the nerve up to reach out to him about jamming that fall,” recalls Gold. “It was fortuitous that he would recommend that we include Michael in the action and even more so when he – a great guitar player in his own right – was willing to handle bass duties. We have discussed swapping roles in the future, so there could very well be a GoJuMo record that has him on guitar and me on bass soon, we shall see!” Jamming and songwriting began soon after, and GoJuMo played their first show that December. Two-fifths of Alice Donut plus one-half of Cinema Cinema equals a GoJuMo: Go – Gold: Ju for Jung and Mo for Moses.

Throughout the year, the band developed the material through intensive rehearsals and live shows before returning to BC Studio with Martin Bisi in fall 2025. Having all worked with Bisi before, BC was the obvious choice.

The sessions quickly confirmed that the ease behind the project translated naturally into the rehearsal room. “Playing with these guys is an absolute joy. The music feels really organic and fits right into my wheelhouse and besides the fact that they’re really great players, they’re really nice guys,” says Stephen Moses. Ev Gold adds: “A lovely musical experience. Michael and Stephen have played together for over thirty years, they have a musical language of their own. It is a fortunate scenario to have such a well attuned rhythm section.”

That strong rapport was matched by an unusually productive first rehearsal. “The very first idea worked on at the initial GoJuMo rehearsal was ‘Failed Math” says Gold. “Coming away with three songs from the first time we ever got together in a room was a strong indication to us to continue to get together as often as possible!”

The session also produced the skeletal structures of ‘Worm’ and ‘How Soon Is Again?’, with all three songs eventually making their way onto the album.

Hear ‘Failed Math’ here:

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At a time when AI-assisted music production is becoming increasingly prevalent and polished recordings are often treated as the goal, GoJuMo instead relied on the chemistry built through months of rehearsals and live performances. The band opted for as little studio manipulation as possible: there were almost no overdubs, most of the record was captured live off the floor at BC Studio, and no song required more than three takes, with several completed in just one.

That approach is particularly evident on ‘Failed Math’, the album’s single. Gold traces the song’s origins back to the night he learned of the death of famed professional wrestler “Rowdy” Roddy Piper. “He was a childhood favorite of mine and in an odd circumstance, I happened to be at home with my guitar on my lap when I heard the news of his passing,” he recalls. “The next thing I knew I was playing a pattern on guitar that would become the main figure of this song”. The idea, originally titled ‘The Pit’ after Piper’s talk show Piper’s Pit, remained in Gold’s demo folder for years before finding a new life with GoJuMo. The song eventually evolved into a reflection on Gold’s struggles with math during his senior year of high school, an experience that prevented him from graduating on schedule and led to a semester of summer school.

The finishing touches and mixing were handled at HizHaus by bassist Michael Jung, who also serves as the band’s documentarian. An avid photographer who regularly captures live shows around New York City, Jung also records each GoJuMo practice for the members to review and use as part of the songwriting process.

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Photo: Michael Jung

17th August 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

We’ve spent the last few decades with the present time being described as ‘post-something. Postmodernism made sense in terms of the lineage of artistic phases, coming, as it did, after modernism. But things did get murky , in that postmodernism wasn’t only about art, but culture, society, and the way technology has infiltrated all aspects of these. The arrival of the post-truth age must surely mark one of the most unedifying and shameful in centuries. I qualify this with the observation that we have spent our entire evolution seeking knowledge, enlightenment, progress. And here we are, in the twentieth century, and instead of advancing these things, we have an ultra-rich elite whose sole interest is self-interest, and with a love of money over all else, including knowledge and intellect – in fact, they despise knowledge and intellect, to the extent that they will chop the legs off every advancement we’ve made in the last two hundred years and rewrite history for nothing more than their own fiscal gain. This includes the denial of genocides and climate change. And what’s worse, people fall for this entirely false narrative and endlessly regurgitate the lies, on social media, and in conversation with families and friends.

So where does this all actually bring us – when it’s impossible to believe in anything, or even anyone? Well, Ashley Reaks pretty much captures that all-pervading sense of gloom and despondency with the title of his latest – his twentieth – solo album, Post-Hope World. Because yes, the fact of the mater is that we’re fucked. The question now is, what’s going to finish us first? World war? Climate change? AI going rogue and pushing the button or something? The world is on fire and missiles are poised in all directions, and it’s starting to feel like a race of the worst kind.

But for the everyday person, 2026 carries echoes of 1976 and the early 80s. Economic depravity, social unrest were the conditions which inspired the punk revolution and the rapid emergence of post-punk shortly after. And so it is that with Post-Hope World, Reaks gives us ‘nine songs about outsiders, damaged childhoods, authoritarian fathers, King Babies, conspiracy nuts, religious zealots, sneaky cunts, the end of one world and the start of another’, which are ‘musically rooted in late-70s /early-80s punk — Ruts, Ramones, Sex Pistols, Killing Joke, Dead Kennedys and Nirvana (not that Nirvana were 70s or 80s punk, but were borne of that same frustration at the sameness of cardboard culture in the late 80s and early 90s).

And so it is that Reaks channels that spirit of rebellion and disaffection through the album’s twelve tracks – rather than a spirit of resignation. Lead single ‘In With the Out Crowd’ kicks things off in energetic style, fizzing with energy, its intricately woven blanket of fretwork coupled with layered vocal melodies, before things lunge deeper and darker with the bass-driven title track – although the chorus again provides a powerful injection of melody that’s not a million miles away from The Stranglers, but equally could be seen as owing some small debt to The Adverts.

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It’s inevitable that any Reaks release will venture into dub and / or reggae at some point, and ‘I Wanna Be a Stain on Society’ leans unashamedly into the aforementioned Ruts influence. And that’s to the good: if you’re going to take inspiration from forebears, make it the good ones. The Ruts belonged to the first wave of punk, the class of ’77, but it was clear from the outset that they stood apart from their peers. They remain criminally underrated, but it’s clear why they’re henry Rollins’ favourite band, and anyone familiar with Reaks’ work will have made the connection between their punk / dub crossover and his unique genre hybrid style.

But nothing Reaks does is ever just a gathering together of ideas lifted from his various influences. These are always a conduit to him delivering his own ideas – both lyrical and musical – and in this context, he has long offered a unique voice. Yes, ‘King Baby’ may be an unexpectedly straightforward poppy punk tune, but its three-chord thrashalong and sing-song vocals provide the perfect platform, for his powerhouse takedown of the orange clown currently occupying the Whitehouse.

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In the spirit of punk, Post-Hope World pulls no punches, but does bring some heavy-slugging riffs, with some hefty drumming behind them, ad never more so than on ‘Daddy Was’. It’s The Damned in the 80s that come to mind listening to ‘War On the Home Front’, another high-octane kicker, and the same is also true of the infectiously poppy final song, ‘Sneaky Cunt’. If it was called anything else, and had a different refrain, it would be all over the radio, or would have been or should have been, if radio networks still existed. But true art refuses to censor or self-censor, and that’s as it should be.

Post-Hope World feels like one of Reaks’ more accessible albums, but in terms of messaging, it’s one of his most vital.

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‘Hallucinations’ is the first single and video from Fire Aim Ready, the sixth album from seminal Chicago punk band The Effigies. This is their first release featuring new lead vocalist Geoff Sabin, who took over following the tragic death of founding lead singer John Kezdy in 2023.The new album was recorded at Million Yen Studios in their hometown, and was produced, engineered and mixed by their guitarist Andy Gerber. The album is being released on 12” LP vinyl, CD, digital download and streaming services by the venerable Chicago independent label Pravda Records October 23.

Following writing sessions between live dates in late 2025, the album came together featuring the riff heavy punk metal the band became known for in the 80s with sharp lyrics and aggressive vocals showcasing a clear-eyed worldview on the current state-of-affairs. Written and recorded quickly to capture the moment, the album also includes a cover song from the Stranglers as a nod to the band’s early influences. This is the band’s first release since Burned in 2024, the last album to feature Kezdy.

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Formed in 1980, The Effigies are recognized as one of Chicago’s pioneering punk bands, shaping the Midwest punk scene with their aggressive sound and captivating lyrics. The band’s DIY ethos and commitment to authentic themes about corruption and urban alienation positioned them as a seminal influence on the punk scene for generations. Led originally by vocalist John Kezdy, bassist Paul Zamost, drummer Steve Economou and guitarist Earl Letiecq, the band’s early work blended the raw energy of classic punk with a distinct Midwestern working class sensibility, setting them apart from the coastal scenes of New York and Los Angeles. Their early performances in small Chicago clubs energized a local community of fans and helped establish the city as a notable hub for punk and alternative music. Early releases such as 1981’s Haunted Town EP, 1982’s 7” single “Body Bag” b/w “Security”, and 1983’s “We’re Da Machine” cemented the band’s significance in the expanding scene.

Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, The Effigies shared stages with many prominent acts, including local favorites Naked Raygun and Big Black, as well as national acts The The, Circle Jerks, Black Flag, The Cramps and PIL. Their live shows became legendary for their intensity and were seen as a threat to the local rock establishment still mired in tribute and cover bands. Renowned record engineer Steve Albini writes that “The Effigies were absolutely essential to development of a healthy punk scene in Chicago. Between them and Naked Raygun in the early 80s they basically kept the scene going until it developed momentum beyond them. The Effigies were a moving force during a crucial and exhilarating time.”

While the band drew inspiration from post-punk, hardcore and metal, they have always maintained that, at heart, they are a punk band. Their music consistently embodies the core values of the punk movement: celebration of individuality, egalitarian ideals, and the power of a committed supportive community.

In 2023, the band emerged from a period of relative inactivity to record a new album. They teamed with Andy Gerber at Million Yen Studios, who also produced the 2007 release Reside, and would go on to take over lead guitar duties with the band. The tragic death of founding member John Kezdy in August of 2023 marked a deeply emotional turning point for the band – Kezdy’s vision and charisma had been central to the Effigies identity. In honor of his legacy and last works, Burned was released in October of 2024 on BFD Records followed by reissues of 1984’s For Ever Grounded and 1985’s Fly on a Wire. To support the album releases and continue moving the legacy forward, the band enlisted a new vocalist, Geoff Sabin, whose energy and passion have reinvigorated the group. Their return to the stage has featured festival sets at RiotFest, Rebellion, and PunkRockBowling, a regional tour with The Black Crowes, and coast to coast shows including prominent clubs like Metro, The Whiskey, Sainte Rock, and The Middle East. The live sets have been embraced by long-time fans and critics alike, signaling that The Effigies are poised for a new chapter while maintaining the spirit and integrity that Kezdy helped establish. As of 2026, The Effigies are touring extensively, with plans to continue reaching audiences worldwide.

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Effigies CLR2 pc Karl Spiekerman

Berlin headbangers SPACE CHASER get the party started with the lyric video of the punk-fuelled thrash anthem ‘8 Minutes’ that is taken from their forthcoming full-length Razorblade Bay. 
The thrash metal maniacs’ fourth studio album has been scheduled for release on September 11, 2026.

Space Chaser comment: “If we were ever to find out that we had only eight minutes left to live…”, drummer Matthias Scheuerer claims, “…well, we would just grab a couple of beers and play this thrash-punk hymn four times. Cheers!”

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Dipterid Records – 21st August 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Chicago noise rock duo King Sans, consisting of Jake Steven James (guitars, synths, vocals) and Izabella Rose (drums, vocals) describe themselves as ‘cryptids of noisepunk’. Make of that what you will, but they’ve gone all out on the ‘cow’ theme of the title on the cover of their debut album and accompanying promotional shots.

This very much feels like the culmination of their work to date: since 2024, they’ve released half a dozen singles, four of which have made it onto the album. As such, Sell the Cow stands as a document of their evolution, from the raw and raucous blues-rock-via-Melvins blast of debut single ‘Liar!’ – all one minute and twenty-seven of it (remixed / remastered for the album)– to new and previously unreleased songs like ‘Sold.’, which opens with a piano part lifted from Mozart before crawling into sludgy morass of dark ambient experimentalism. It so happens that ‘Sold.’ bookends the album neatly, as the opener, ‘Two Figures’ is a brooding, atmospheric piece with droning fear-chord synths, jumpy incidentals, and a suspenseful spoken-word vocal that gives way to thumping tribal drums and dingy bass. These three songs alone are demonstrative of their huge ambition and stylistic range and illustrative of their operating far beyond the parameters of both noise and punk.

They pack in some high-octane bangers along the way, too: previous single ‘Jumpstart’ isn’t just appropriately titled, but appropriately placed in the track sequencing, kicking things into overdrive immediately after the more experimental intro. It’s a taut and explosive two-and-a-quarter guitar-driven minutes of stomping glam punk with a dash of the kind of mania that defined the first Pulled Apart by Horses album.

‘Let me Lie’ is the most excitable-sounding example of stoner sludge I think I’ve ever heard. It’s like Melvins on speed, and seems to manage a nod to Lene Lovich’s ‘Lucky Number’ somewhere in the melee. Herein lies much of the thrill of Sell the Cow. There’s a lot going on, so many different references and ideas drawn from across a vast musical swathe, that each listen reveals something different, something new.

‘Dienen’ is another which melts together thick, scuzzed out low-end overdrive with a kind of glam-influenced stomp and doomy power chords. That they manage to render this preposterous combination without sounding like the Spinal Tap of sludge is an achievement, but the fact it’s followed by ‘Lasting Hold’, which takes things a step further is almost beyond comprehension. The verses are soft, with a delicate, gentle vocal and almost folky, with an atmospheric, spiritual-sounding feel, while the choruses erupt into screaming filthy metal – and they take this idea further on the operatic art-rock infused thrash of ‘S.Y.D.’ Yes, it’s almost impossible to keep up with everything that they’ve got going on, and I keep finding myself thinking ‘this shouldn’t work’. But it does. And it works well.

There’s birdsong and a pastoral feel to the lulling ‘the floodplain’, while puntastic single ‘No Diddley’ is a squalling blast of guitars that’s equal parts blues and rock ‘n’ roll and noise rock, with a dash of Suicide.

Sell the Cow is the album you didn’t know you needed, but believe me, you sure do.

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Christopher Nosnibor

A week ago, buying a ticket to see four metal bands for a tenner in a tiny basement venue seemed like a good idea. But then yet another heatwave happened, and arriving at the Mickelgate Social – something of a hipster bar just feet inside the city walls on what used to the York’s most notorious street for bars and nightclubs frequented by stag and hen dos and townies and other twats, which has gone rather more upmarket in recent years – damp and uncomfortable, I find myself questioning my sanity. The doors are 7:30, and I arrive some time after, but Tame The Savage are still soundchecking at 7:45 and Onion Terror are still to go. Provided I don’t collapse from heat exhaustion, I assume things can only improve. And, for the most part, they do.

Onion Terror are a duo: guitar, vocals, and drums and other backing off a phone. The guitarist is playing through a 5-watt practice amp that feeds back a lot, while the vocalist charges and leans and squats, alternately bellowing and growling, while sporting a pint balaclava. They clearly don’t intend to be taken seriously, but they are seriously good fun. Their eleven-minute set is a mash of all kinds of metal – primarily some mangled kind of grindcore, but with purposefully cheap-sounding drums and samples galore – consisting mostly vocal snippets about onions. It’s loud and it’s messy and makes for a great start to the night.

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Onion Terror

Tame the Savage trade in filthy punk, somewhat in the vein of Anti-Nowhere League. But what sets them apart from your meat-and-potatoes punk is the way the bass – played by the lead vocalist – carries the most weight, doing a lot of work on the upper half of the fretboard and the higher strings, and essentially playing it like a lead guitar, with a lot of mid and some distortion. But then, when he does drop to the lower octaves on the bottom strings, the impact is immense, a thick, rumbling groove melding with the hefty percussion. And the drummer looks like he’s having the time of his life.

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Tame the Save

Hella Bore’s bassist, wearing a facemask, baseball cap, and hoodie with the hood up – the dude must have been liquid inside that getup – approached me just before their set and requested no photos, so you’ll have to imagine him, and the singer, a stocky, shaven-headed guy with a waxed moustache, in a wifebeater and too-tight cutoff blue jeans shorts. Hmm. Perhaps this was why they didn’t want photos. The drummer, bearded and with plaited pigtails (when he removes the knitted balaclava with floppy rabbit ears) makes a nice addition to the visual. I’d like to report that they sound better than they look, and they do – although it’s marginal. It’s not that they can’t play: they evidently can. But what they play is like a Nu-metal Rage Against the Machine with Al Jorgensen’s vocals roaring over the top. The material is pretty leaden, the lyrics aren’t great and overall… It’s understandable why a large chunk of the audience take the opportunity to get some air during their set.

In contrast, Miško Boba have both their look and sound absolutely nailed, and just keep on getting better. They’re a cohesive unit, and each member brings something specific, but it’s in the way they come together which is where their strength lies. During the slow, slugging riff sections, they all bang heads in perfect union, the gut-churning five-string bass underpinning the twin guitar assault. At the back, Leviathan’s powerhouse drumming very much drives everything along, but it’s apparent that they all recognise that in Kanopa they have a formidable and compelling front woman. Visually, she’s impressive, a classic horror scene, a walking gorefest, appearing to have had her eyes torn out, and her arms are streaked with sanguine fluid. But this is nothing compared to the vocal performance, which is nothing short of spine-quivering, blood-curdling, demonic roar, a desperate purgatorial scream.

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Miško Boba

They just get heavier and more fierce as the set progresses, and seem to grow in confidence as well as intensity. The set may only feature seven songs, but it makes for a truly obliterative forty-five minutes, and any longer you’d probably feel your skull start to cave in. Tonight’s performance, which is pretty big on new material, is something else, and exemplifies why they deserve to be on a label, and to have PR pushing for their (inter)national exposure. This is a band who are taking black metal – and Lithuanian metal – to a place which warrants appreciation. If you want your metal black, you’ll find none more black than Miško Boba .

Label Obscura (Canada) / Warped Tracks (Scotland) – 5th August 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

A couple of months ago (I’m putting it down to the successive heatwaves that the time seems to have simply evaporated this year), Dragged Up stopped off in York (on their way to Newcastle from Middlesbrough) to squeeze in a special set opening day two of a mini-festival. During their performance, we got a preview of what was then touted as being a future single in the form of ‘Rapunzel’.

And now, the world gets to hear the studio version, in all its five-minute glory, complete with some bold sax. While the accompanying video (a two-minute cut), courtesy of the band’s own Eva Gnatiuk (guitar and vocals) features a succession of folks dropping classic and influential albums and books like they’re nothing (I was particularly pained to see a copy of the Red Star issue of Suicide’s first album getting tossed, even though the cover looked a bit battered, rather less fussed about a Faces album getting the treatment, and wait! That’s Stuart Lee emerging from behind an Earl Scruggs LP!)

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Where was I? Oh yes. The music. ‘Rapunzel’ is a garage, punky romp of a tune, and the sax lends it a very (early) Psychedelic Furs / X-Ray Spex vibe (Germ-Free Adolescents also appears in the video). It may reference hair washing, but it’s bursting with lyrical tangents, and couldn’t be much further from the songs from Disney’s Tangled (a movie I’ve seen far too many time, on account of having celebration a daughter who was exactly the right age for Frozen and stuff when it was all the rage). But this ‘Rapunzel’ keeps on springing surprises: the ‘Dark Entries’ section that featured live remains intact around the three minute mark, and if the video seems to say ‘meh’ to influence, the music itself says otherwise, feeling like a n effervescent celebration of those predecessors, rather than a trashing. Regardless, the result is an uptempo, exuberant, scuzzy blast that’s bursting with energy and attitude. And it’s great.

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