Posts Tagged ‘Punk’

Bug Facer – Nuclear Bounty Hunter / Beggar’s Last Words

Posted: 10 August 2026 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Warren Records – 7th July 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

I’ve written extensively on the topic of formats before, and having grown up in the 80s and 90s when the physical single was still a dominant format – in particular the 7” single, which could be purchased cheaply (and with wide availability on the high street from not just Our Price and HMV, but also Woolworths and WH Smith) for a quid or two, the whole experience of the A-side and B-side, or a double-A-side is scored into my psyche. Most digital singles now only contain one track, and while I get it, it’s just not the same – and nor is paying a tenner or more for a lathe-cut limited edition of twenty. It feels as if the market has split in directions which are diametric opposites, and neither is particularly satisfying.

The latest release from Hull’s Bug Facer manages a satisfactory compromise, in the current economic climate: a digital single release with two tracks for four quid. Because another thing that’s largely been forgotten is that the cost of production of a physical release is not all of the cost involved – in fact it’s only a fraction. A studio, an engineer, a producer, all cost. Rehearsal space. PR. And so on. All of these things are expenses involved in being a band and recording and releasing music. This is the reason that Spotify sickens me, and the culture whereby people believe music should be free blows my mind. Home taping didn’t kill music. Illegal sharing via Napster and Soulseek didn’t kill music. Legitimate corporate-driven platforms, however, really fucked things, especially for smaller artists. The industry co-conspired, and didn’t so much shoot itself in the foot as hug a landmine.

Imagine being buzzed about starting a new band and getting your music out there, and then the few hundred streams you get after some heavy plugging and a PR scoring a review or two and maybe a couple of radio plays, to receive absolutely nothing, while your fraction of a penny that actually goes to the artists rather than the platform has been dripped into the pool that’s divvied out between Ed Sheeran, Coldplay, and U2. So yes, £4 for a digital release in 2026 is probably fair – especially when it’s a proper two-song single which replicates the 7” experience of the A-side and B-side, and especially when both songs are killer.

And here, both songs are indeed killer. ‘Nuclear Bounty Hunter’ stars slow, with a tense build-up and an intimation of a riff, squirming its way to a thick, gnarly riff that’s halfway between raging punk and sludgy noise. Sling the Melvins together with Slaughter and the Dogs and you’re in the right domain. It’s heavy, hefty, rabid, and gloriously messy.

‘Beggar’s Last Words’ is an entirely different proposition: it’s nearly seven minutes long for a start, and sashays in with soft instrumentation over a waltz-time beat. It’s kinda hazy, kinda droney, deeply psychedelic, and very much of an experimental bent. In short, it couldn’t be more contrasting. The vocals, when they finally arrive, are heavily treated, warped, and woozy, and are half-submerged among the ever-rising cacophony which is building, and almost out of nowhere, we’re four minutes in and find ourselves in the midst of a sonic maelstrom. After this crescendo of chaos, everything gradually winds down, wheezing, wasted, to a slow fade.

The fact that this release showcases two vastly divergent styles is a strength. It’s a release that shows a band willing to take risks, to challenge themselves – and their listeners. It’s so easy – and tempting – for artists to create a template early in their careers and say with them. It works, the band and any PR they might have gets to tout them as X or Y, everyone knows what they’re going to get, they find their niche, find their audience, however small, until boredom sets in and / or fashion changes. It takes a different kind of band to eschew genre limitations, and particularly to go this far out on a limb with a single release. Bug Facer are that different kind of band, and their continued evolution is a joy to observe.

AA

a2825862493_10

Roman Jugg / Moose Knuckle / Boggis Fringe – The Lending Room, Leeds, 31st July 2026

Posted: 1 August 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

By the early 80s, the power of punk had mostly petered out. We were very much in the post-punk era, and most of the first wave of punk acts had called it a day or slunk into obscurity. And yet The Damned, whose debut, ‘New Rose’ was the first single by a British punk band, released their most commercially successful album in 1982 in the form of Strawberries, and their continued success through the 80s was largely attributable to their ongoing evolution, leaning into the gothic – and even the overtly goth – style. It was Strawberries which saw Roman Jugg join their ever-expanding family tree to contribute keyboard solos, and when Captain Sensible left the band a couple of years later, Roman stepped into the role of guitarist. So the pitch that they’re ‘playing songs from the back catalogue as they were originally meant to be performed’ might sound like quite a claim, but since the set does predominantly focus on songs from Phantasmagoria and Anything, which Jugg was involved in writing, he’s certainly got grounds. As for older songs, well he toured with the band long enough to be considered an authority.

Considering Gary Numan is playing the Peace Hall just up the road in Halifax tonight, there’s a respectable turnout, and deservedly so. The question of the impact of these large outdoor summer gigs in addition to festivals and their impact on regular gigs, particularly for those at smaller, and specifically grass roots venues may be one to debate in more detail separately, but so far this year it does feel as if the effect may be tipping towards the negative. These events seem to be as much social as musical, everyone plastering their social media with blurry pica and wobbly videos with shit audio to prove that they were there – that they’d forked out £60 to stand a mile from the stage and listen to people chat while slopping exorbitantly-priced crap lager over their own trainers. And fine, each to their own of course, but there’s no trickle-down here, and they’re not a gateway to grassroots events when people I know would often attend the small-venue gigs can’t make it because they’re either at one of these big gigs, or are tired / skint as a result of having been to one – or three. And again, is a £60 gig six times better than a £10 gig? Obviously it’s impossible to quantify, but I think it’s fair to say there’s a point at which the experience grows incrementally less enjoyable as the scale of the show increases. Somewhat ironically, The Damned, still fronted by Dave Vanian, and with Paul Gray on bass and Rat Scabies behind the kit, are playing at both The Peace Hall and Scarborough Open Air Theatre this summer, the latte as support to American rock supergroup Hollywood Vampires (Alice Coooper and Johnny Depp, with Aerosmith’s Joe Perry), which sounds nothing short of hellish. It highlights just how much the nostalgia market has changed the nature of things: I saw The Damned in the middle of the afternoon at Guilfest circa 2003, and they didn’t even sell out the 200-capacity Fibbers in York in 2005 or 2006. They were great, mind you, but felt like they were a band that worked best in a space with a low ceiling and where the front row is within spitting distance, literally.

Boggis Fringe are up first. Having risen from the ashes of dark post-punk combo Fatherfigures in 2024, following the death of their guitarist, Boggis Fringe straddle the space between old-school punks playing old-school punk, and some quite taut post-punk action. Tonight, the power trio are once again expanded to a four-piece, with the addition of Erin on second guitar, who also provides backing vocals and covers drumming duties for a few songs in the middle of the set. As we soon learn, this is because drummer Chris is still recovering from a knee injury, and isn’t yet back to strength to manage the entirety of the set. Add to the instrument swapping some guitar cut outs (pesky pedals and leads), the feel is a shade chaotic, but it in no way detracts, and if anything, makes it feel more authentically punk. Singer Doug plays like he hates his guitar even more than life itself, and gets bonus points for the most audaciously bad wordplay joke I’ve heard in a while.

DSC03483DSC03475

Boggis Fringe

I was rather underwhelmed the last time I saw Moose Knuckle in York at the back end of 2024. They felt sluggish and low-energy, and worst of all, entitled, as if they believed the audience should put in more work, despite their own apparent lack of effort. It seems I caught them on an off night. They really give it some on this hometown outing, powering through nine songs on half an hour. New song ‘Hard to Kill’, which lands mid-set, has strong hints of The Ramones. Their cover of The Prodigy’s ‘Breathe’ (mistitled on the setlist as Breath) is still the best thing in the set, mind, and of the originals, the squelchy funk rage of ‘Old Flame’ is a clear standout, although another new song, a grungy beast that’s called ‘Do It On My Own’ is a close second.

DSC03521DSC03552DSC03540

Moose Knuckle

Roman Jugg has assembled quite a band for this latest tour centered around the songs he wrote while with The Damned in the 80s, notably absorbing garage duo Dave and Fi Dukale, aka The Tuppenny Bunters (interchangeably) on drums, keyboards, and vocals. They’ve been on my radar for a while, and although this doesn’t strictly qualify as seeing them as such, it does still sort of count as a twofer. Pat MacNamara is rocking turnups worthy of Kirk Brandon and sideburns that would impress Neil Young, and does a mean bass face throughout the set. Meanwhile Roman himself and guitarist Paul Bedford keep things low-key and keep the focus on the songs, which they bang out with admirable proficiency.

DSC03600DSC03616DSC03675

Roman Jugg Band

The setlist is superb, and apart from ‘Elouise’ not featuring, is more or less a selection of my favourite Damned songs. ‘I Just Can’t be Happy Today’ drops fourth in a rammed set. ‘Edward the Bear’ goes down a storm before they’re back to plundering from Strawberries.

Dave and Fiona switch drums and keyboards for a bit, and they blast through a high-octane rendition of ‘Ignite’. Their styles are quite different, with Fiona bringing more swing and a fluid stroke that contrasts with Dave’s method, and this shift gives the set a certain dynamic. ‘Grimly Fiendish’ – probably the first song by The Damned I heard growing up still sounds ace – as if The Kinks had penned a cabaret goth tune. Dark but poppy and great fun. As the set moves into its final stages around the hour mark, they kick it up a couple of gears and raid the early singles for blistering takes on ‘Smash it Up’ and ‘Neat Neat Neat’. There’s barely a minute’s pause, during which only half the band actually vacate the stage before they encore with a hundred-mile-an hour ‘New Rose’ which delivers a final injection of adrenaline for the night.

Sod your social media ‘I was there’ big-names-in-massive-venues shows: this is still, and will forever be, what live music is really about.

Pop Goes Metal / Dismiss / Too Late for Gods – The Fulford Arms, York, 26th July 2026

Posted: 27 July 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

Did I ever mention how much I fucking hate ABBA? No? Well, I really, really fucking hate ABBA, and pretty much all covers of ABBA songs too, with the exception of The Sisters of Mercy’s cover of ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’ which made the set a few times in 1984 just after Wayne Hussey joined. To provide a measure of just how much I fucking hate ABBA, just after university, my then girlfriend and I got a flat, and took her best mate on as a lodger. She loved ABBA. So much so that ABBA Gold was pretty much, the only CD she owned. And she played it all the time. That’s no exaggeration. We’re talking legitimate grounds for eviction or even murder here. So when I upgraded my stereo, instead of selling the old one – which would have fetched a good hundred and fifty quid, which was some wedge back in ’98 – I gave it to her for her room on the proviso that she would never play ABBA in the living room ever again. The rationale for this anecdote will make sense later on.

Meanwhile, when I took this gig on, I hadn’t appreciated that the band I was here for – Dismiss – were only the support, and it blows my mind that a band with some kind of following, however moderate here, would come from Greece to support a local covers band in York. We’ll come back to this presently, too.

My introduction to Too Late for Gods was a pub gig on the other side of town, and my reaction was very much mixed. So, seeing them on a proper stage, through a full PA, and without the element of surprise means I’m in a better position to properly assess their skills.

Their first song is a straight up post-hardcore metal rager, the five-string bass bringing significant depth and power. It’s the grunge leanings which shine through during the next couple of songs, and it’s very soon apparent what a difference a decent mix can make to how songs come across. There are some meh punk pop / emo cuts mid-set, but they’re performed with guts and gusto, which carries them. Their drummer is a solid asset, too, a strong player with a big personality, bringing dynamics and showmanship, and very much driving the band. The penultimate song of the set has a hint of Placebo and a strong hook. They look comfortable in this setting, and give the impression that they would deliver in significantly larger venues, too.

DSC03140DSC03172

Too Late for Gods

I’m here for Dismiss, and woah! They are all the energy straight out of the traps. My notes are scant: I’m too busy trying to catch my breath. They play hard rock with a punk edge, and they bring the fire, and what’s more, they’re absolutely relentless, powering through fifteen original songs in forty minutes (the setlist indicates that they dropped two from the planned set, too), but it feels like about twenty whiplash-inducing minutes, as they the songs back-to-back. Their singer is a blur of peroxide, the bassist is a spike-studded energy blast, and they make a strong case for the prosecution in the case that women rock harder than men. And if we’re doing touchstones and references, Lita Ford and The Plasmatics and Amyl and the Sniffers are where we’re at. They absolutely fucking slay. You wouldn’t want to go on after them, especially as, judging by the T-shirts on display, a good number of the punters are here for them. And deservedly. They absolutely play their arses off and are nothing short of phenomenal. Not only band of the night, but one of the highlights of the year to date.

DSC03218DSC03222DSC03265DSC03288

Dismiss

But suddenly, just as Pop Goes Metal take to the stage, the place is rammed from the front to the back. I guess this is telling. Do we talk about covers bands? Should we contemplate guilty pleasures? I wrote about covers bands just the other night – but can’t help but feel differently about covers bands playing village pubs as background, and covers bands playing ‘proper’ venues and headlining over bands playing sets of original material. Like Natalie Imbruglia, I’m torn. It’s great that people are coming out to small venues and supporting live music. But…

I’ve personally never been embarrassed by my appreciation of pop tunes, and I don’t just mean the 80s stuff I grew up with, like Duran Duran and A-Ha. A good tune is a good tune, irrespective of genre. As such, I’m personally comfortable with the fact that Pop Goes Metal start strong with a thunking Nu-metal take on Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed A Girl’. However, am I comfortable with the principle of what is, in essence, a novelty covers act? While perhaps not as corny as, say, Elvana or Tragedy (the metal Bee gees tribute), they certainly sit within that bracket.

Objectively, Pop Goes Metal do a great job of delivering what they pitch. They bring a brace of chunky guitars melded to a chunky rhythm section, and Emz gives us gutsy vocals, with rasp and power. Britney’s ‘Toxic’ is a solid choice at the front end of the set and works over the more obvious choice of Britney tunes in terms of their sonic and stylistic range. The Dua Lipa and Billie Eilish songs are beyond my ken, but they go down well.

New addition to the set, ‘Umbrella’ is only so-so, and while Emz reads the lyrics from her phone, the song slides into an extended fretwanking solo. Their interpretation of Mark Ronson’s ‘Uptown Funk’ sounds too much like ‘Free Range’ by The Fall crossed with ‘Black Betty’ to be entirely successful, and while ‘Let Me Entertain You’ benefits from a huge chugging break, it’s still a shit song. ‘Toca’s Miracle’ translates from a dance-pop banger to a thunderous disco metal banger, and it would be curmudgeonly not to acknowledge a job well done there.

DSC03365DSC03413DSC03427

Pop Goes Metal

The audience is particularly hyped and vocal, and increasingly so as the night progresses. Emz’s voice starts to go with five songs to go, and by the end she can barely croak between songs, but still belts ‘em out full lungs. ‘Shake it Off’ not only proves I’ve never knowingly heard a song by Taylor Swift, but that perhaps I’m not entirely the target demographic. ‘Sk8er Boi’ comes in pretty much untouched, and Anastacia’s ‘Left Outside Alone’ is a strong tune that it would be hard to go wrong with, and credit where it’s due, they do it justice. And then it’s onto ending on ‘Mama Mia’… just no. No no no no. They’ve crossed the line.

Craic Killers – Who Said I Was…

Posted: 15 July 2026 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

12th July 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Anyone who says politics should be kept out of music is talking bollocks. An integral part of musical history is the music of protest, and of music which speaks of the times. While not necessarily protest-based, many dark moments of history are captured within traditional folk songs – long before the 60s gave us a whole new model for folk music as a vehicle for protest. Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Pete Seeger, and Cat Stevens are just the first few names which come to mind as artists who picked up an acoustic guitar and used it to voice their anti-war sentiments, and it’s a mantel that’s been carried by many since, perhaps most prominently by Billy Bragg.

The arrival of punk brought a different kind of dissenting voice – one that was angry, nihilistic, and wasn’t so much anti-war as anti-everything, seeking to smash the system and stick it to the man. It shat the establishment up for a while, too, because it was brash, menacing, and felt violent, dangerous. This was Thatcher’s Britain: unemployment was up, there were strikes galore and discontent was more than rife. Of course, the major labels saw pound signs and signed punk bands left right and centre and before long, many acts were defanged by the wheels of capitalism in motion. And so the true punks stuck to, or remained resolutely, DIY, and while punk’s undergone a host of mutations since 1977, it still has both the sound and the vibe – particularly in the DIY scene – that positively yells ‘anti-establishment’. And this is, essentially, Craic Killers in a nutshell. The London-based Irish duo take certain cues from Kneecap, who, while having drawn heat from ‘the establishment’ are widely lauded for being not only outspoken, but sticking to their (metaphorical) guns in the face of litigation and more.

Before we get to the music, it’s worth taking a moment to consider the question of what constitutes ‘the establishment’ these days. Farage will tell you he and Reform and seeking to unsettle the status quo, to challenge the establishment and that they represent the man in the street who is fed up with not being represented by politicians in parliament. Bankrolled by tax-evading millionaires and billionaires whose funds reside off shore and who seek to siphon off even more wealth for their own personal gain, this is patent bullshit, and making those men on the street angry because they’ve been tricked to believe it’s the fault of immigrants that they’re poor and local services are shit is a massive con. The establishment does not exist to serve the regular worker. The establishment’s ethos is built on the foundations of the worst of capitalism, and this is why the establishment – both here in the UK, and particularly across the pond – is so hell-bent on dismissing any ideology that’s even remotely left (by which I mean, they hate welfare of any kind, particularly free healthcare, because ultimately, they don’t believe the poor deserve to live), and why they’re so desperate to crush dissent. It’s not because they believe protesters are terrorists, but because they hate to be exposed, and also can’t stand to see their absolute power and total authority challenged. There is much wrong with all of this, and more.

And Craic Killers are calling it out. All of it. As they tell it, ‘The new work goes in on the Epstein elite, MAGA bootlickers and major government failures such as the PSNI & TFL. Who Said I Was… matches the first EP’s intensity and themes of world collapse with a more refined sound.

It’s hard to argue any of that, really. Released last October, Who TF is Craic Killers? was a full-throttle blast of super-lo fi electropunk fury. Part of its appeal was the lack of production, rendering it the very quintessence of DIY. Cleaning up the sound is by no means selling out, especially when Who Said I Was… still sounds like it was recorded in a 4-track app on a smart phone. They rip into Andrew Tate and the ‘manosphere’, blast ICE, and tackle issues closer to home: certainly, the PSNI (Police Service of Northern Ireland) and their actions aren’t widely reported further afield, but as the sole note which accompanied the single release simply stated ‘All Peelers Are Bastards (and pedos)’. Trust in police is at a low eight now, for so many reasons, and the recent appearance of ‘ACAB’ graffitied under the bridge which carries the A64 over the River Ouse near where I live (alongside ‘Fuck Nazis’) is telling of the mood, I feel.

With the exception of ‘GIMMIE’ (released as a single in June), none of the six songs run over three minutes – but all of them are delivered with a ragged, riotous energy. By which I mean these guys are absolutely fucking fearless, and relentless in their intensity. ‘TFL’ may be slower and lower, but it’s dingy and abrasive, the vocals somewhere between hardcore punky shouting and really aggro rapping, while the closer, ‘Public Relations’ is unexpectedly catchy, but still as scuzzy as fuck.

It’s worth spending some time and a few listens to pick out the lyrics, but Who Said I Was… hits like a back-and-forth slap round the chops from the very first bar and keeps it going to the end. This is precisely what punk is about: impact, going in hard, no compromise. They don’t come much more punk than Craic Killers.

AA

Craic Killers Promo image 1

Utterly Fuzzled #12: Cowtown / Steatopygous / Chaffinch – Fulfordgate Club, York, 11th July 2026

Posted: 12 July 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

Is it possible for there to be too much happening? This evening’s show was brought forward to a matinee start with 8pm finish in order to accommodate England’s World Cup quarter final match with its 10mp kick off. And while another tasty lineup headlined by Soma Crew on the other side of town got rescheduled, there’s also Super Furry Animals headlining one of the city’s biggest nights of the year at The Museum Gardens, and York Races. These are the challenges which can face promoters – and given other issues, like the first band on the original bill having to pull out because of being unable to make the earlier time slot, and Steatopygous having van issues that resulted in their having to cancel their Glasgow show the night before and having to be rescued from limbo in Leeds, it’s little short of a miracle that tonight even went ahead, let alone that people turned up.

It’s oft said that most music reviewers are failed musicians – usually by the kind of cynics who trot out lines like ‘if you can’t do, teach’, while themselves being incredibly self-satisfied by their having never attempted anything to fail at. And so it is that I find myself here as a last-minute replacement for The Pennydrops, who had to cancel, and while it’s true that the early doors meant the vast majority turned up after my set, I’d call getting to blast my racket without clearing the room a success.

Chaffinch may visually resemble York band Knitting Circle with an additional guitarist, but they’re very, very different indeed. And here, playing their fifth ever show, they cement the differences, not just sonically, but in terms of presentation, with all but the drummer playing the majority of the set in front of the stage, largely with their backs to the audience, with the jabbing twin guitars playing against and across one another to forge jolting No-Wave discord atop shuddering bass and powerful syncopated drumming. Their set is rapidly evolving, too, with a couple of new songs packed into their succinct and thrilling set.

DSC02510DSC02548DSC02575

Chaffinch

It’s here that I should once again highlight the eclecticism of Utterly Fuzzled lineups. As much as they do perhaps have a leaning towards indie, alternative rock, contemporary punk and post-punk, as Jo Dale explained to me in a recent interview, their fundamental criteria are ‘Absolutely no all-male line-ups! …We’re not genre specific, between us we have very wide musical tastes. Basically, if it excites us then we want to put it on, simple as that really’.

Even so, having seen Wiltshire four-piece Steatopygous (whose name, incidentally, means fat or prominent buttocks) advertised as ‘teenagers playing high-energy punk with a rather 90s riot grrrl feel’ and trading in ‘raging expressions of angered feminist teenage anguish did nothing to prepare me for the full-on aural assault that incorporates elements of hardcore and metalcore. With heavy, filthy bass dominating the dense sound, I’m at times reminded of the dirty noise rock of Fudge Tunnel, only rendered all the more terrifying by Poppy’s throat-rippingly demonic vocals. A high, crisp snare cuts through the sludge noise. But there’s subtlety and detail to their sonic palate, too. Mellow passages border on folk, with spoken word segments, showcasing some intelligent and articulate songwriting that’s so much more than mere rage. That said, their fiery and passionate final song, is a beast and whips up a mini-moshpit down the front, and that’s no small feat when it’s absolutely melting.

DSC02683DSC02642DSC02673

Steatopygous

So after extreme electronica, angular no-wave noise rock, and multi-faceted hardcore, Cowtown are perhaps the most overtly indie / alternative act of the night, but the thing about Cowtown is that, well, they’re uniquely Cowtown. Stalwarts of the Leeds scene in the same way as Bilge Pump (and, more recently, Objections, and Thank, for that matter), it’s the quirkiness that’s as integral to their appeal as their commitment to the DIY scene. Oh, and songs, of course. They have some songs. Good songs, too. But what are they about? Tonight, we get to find out about some of them. And so do they, seemingly for the first time, too. This is a significant part of the great and enduring appeal of Cowtown: they never fail to entertain, and as they race through the songs – grunge and punk at heart, but with pop keen leanings –with unbridled energy and effervescence, there’s a joy which radiates from the stage: they genuinely love doing what they do – and tonight, Hilary is loving the gong, a fixture of Utterly Fuzzled events used primarily to herald the commencement of each set, but here, used as punctuation between songs, and equally, just for the fun of it. And ultimately, fun is what they specialise in, bringing a near-miraculous evening to a most uplifting finish.

DSC02707DSC02730DSC02758

Cowtown

The Dwarves – JENKEM

Posted: 27 May 2026 in Albums, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , ,
0

Greedy Media – 5th June 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Fuck me, a new album by The Dwarves? They’ve now been going fully forty years. How? How is Blag Dahlia even still alive? They may have reined things in around the turn of the millennium, but no act this controversial, this wild, this excessive has a right to still be here after all this time. But we should be grateful that they are. The 80s were very different times, and while being perverse, gruesome, antagonistic, and all the rest for its own sake is a good thing – and G.G. Allin style shock for the sake of causing offence, disgust, or revulsion was never big or clever, and that we’ve moved on is a good thing… but. The danger is that we’ve come to a point where challenging artistic expression can be too readily conflated with misogyny or other discriminatory practices. No question, it’s a fine line, but confrontational art, at its best, challenges us to confront not only what’s socially acceptable but also our own boundaries and prejudices. Moreover, right now, is fringe art which is ugly and repulsive any more ugly and repulsive than mainstream discourse in politics or social media?

Unless it’s expounding ideologies of hate, is it perhaps not a function of art to test the boundaries still, as was always the case? The very purpose of punk was to raise a middle finger to the establishment, to be offensive to cultured sensibilities. Punk was rebellion. Somewhere along the way, something’s been lost. In truth, much was lost early on, when many punk acts signed to major labels in ’77 and ’78, but the spirit of punk remained, but underground. Now, much of what passes as punk is pathetically tame. Sure, Green Day gave us American Idiot, and used a major label platform to bring us their social and political critiques, but they were essentially no more than Clash copyists and fairly mild in their expostulations in real terms. The extent to which one can call the work of The Dwarves art is debatable, but it’s unquestionably punk in ethos.

The band which gave us gore, nudity, and an actual dwarf on the cover of their 1990 album Blood, Guts & Pussy (which packed twelve songs into just shy of thirteen minutes), and whose guitarist HeWhoCannotBeNamed performs live wearing a jockstrap at most, do what they’ve always done here: short, fast, abrasive punk songs about drugs and death and drugs and more drugs. The longest of the album’s fourteen songs is two minutes and two seconds long (‘Damned if I Do’, one of the album’s most accessible, catchy, and commercial songs, which packs in verses, choruses and a guitar solo); and the rest sit around the minute and a half mark.

And while PC is still not a concern for Dwarves, opener ‘Confused’ takes a balanced approach to gender confusion, touching on hypermasculinity within its squalling minute and eight seconds. ‘We Are The Scene’ melts together The Dead Kennedys and hardcore with some unexpected melody while flexing muscles.

AA

‘I’m Dead’ (which brings a heavy hint of The Ramones) and ‘I Wish You Were Dead’ seem to offer common thematic ground, albeit from different sides of the fence, and ‘Bad Drugs’ (a poppy tune about prescription drugs like Adderall), ‘Drug Lust’, ‘Too Messed Up’ and ‘Psychosis Tripping’ are all self-explanatory in their focus and frenzy, and much of this hopped-up set sits between The Dead Kennedys and Black Flack. It’s the quintessence of old-school punk, fast and furious, but with melodies packed and stacked, fun takes priority over shock or offence.

AA

12IN_JACKET

Wheelchair Sports Camp – oh imperfecta

Posted: 17 May 2026 in Albums, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Alternative Tentacles – 15th May 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Well, you can’t complain a band’s name is in bad taste when one of its member is, as their own website puts it, ‘a wheelchair-using, profanely queer and tiny rapper, with a very distinctly high-pitched sense of humor’. And instead of politely skirting the whole disability – because people are, even now, funny, awkward, uncomfortable about these things – WSC shove it right in your face. No shame, no embarrassment – not that there should be, of course, but these guys pretty much shit all over propriety and political correctness, in a way that simply doesn’t tend to happen anymore.

Anti-PC ‘comedy’ artistes, the likes of Roy “Chubby” Brown and Kevin Bloody Wilson are adored by the kind of cunts vote Reform and bemoan the fact that you can’t say anything racist anymore should rightly be criticised and deplatformed, given that their ‘humour’ is based on derision and mockery, punching down to use a popular current phrase. Wheelchair Sports Camp, however, invert that exploitation and reclaim the ground that’s rightfully their in the most uncompromising and wilfully tasteless of manners.

Oh Imperfecta sees the hip-hop duo go punk – and it’s not only being released on Alternative Tentacles, but features guest vocals by Jello Biafra, alongside a host of other guests. And this is punk at its most unapologetically trashy, thrashy, bursts of noise and scratchy guitars pitched against explosive beats and grinding synths. There’s nothing subtle about this, and nor is there intended to be. Single cut ‘Eat Meat’ is exemplary: a simple riff, simple and repetitive lyrics, Kalyn Rose Heffernan’s squeaky vocals possessing a childlike quality –the lyrics not so much. She sounds, at times, like an evil Gremlin, cackling away and raising a middle finger to the world. This is what empowerment looks and sounds like: this is the very definition of rebellion, of not giving a fuck.

AA

‘DENIM ft. RAREBYR$’ (only one of four of sixteen songs on the album which breaks the three-minute barrier) sees Heffernan and her ‘gimp’ Greggy (drums) revisiting their hip-hop roots, and ‘on HOLD ft. Junia-T’ is an exercise in bleak, minimal hip-hop which delves into dark and experimental territory: both are quite a contrast with primitive punk of ‘DEAD ft. Jello Biafra + Olivia Jean’ – and then there are the interludes, which feature snippets of dialogue and what appear to be answerphone messages. With ‘no stopping NO STANDING ft. Junia-T’ introducing a busy jazz element, oh imperfecta is an album which is a wild and varied ride.

AA

unnamed-2

GURT – Survival of the Shittest

Posted: 12 May 2026 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

5th June 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

I laugh, because the phrase ‘survival of the shittest’ was a phrase I used – a lot – in the late 90s, in my early years of being thrown into the corporate world after completing a degree in English literature. Back then, the belief still existed that a better education would lead to a better job, although in the three years between starting my degree and finishing it, a lot changed, and none of it for the good. ‘Graduate jobs’ stopped being a thing, meaning that it was a feat just to land a temp job doing data input work at an insurance company. It was fucking soul crushing, and Charles Bukowski’s Factotum became a book I came to relate to all too closely as I trudged my way through what felt like endless drudgery. And the managers, those who got promoted, those who did well? The common trait among them seemed to be that, when you boiled it down to the basics, they were all cunts. Backstabbers, self-promoters, overconfident wankers, twats with all the ambition but none of the skills… these bastards were killing it on the career ladder, while I sloughed away in a pit of despair. Scum floats, and all around me, it did. I wasn’t envious of their lives or their ‘careers’, but it was a gut-wrenching showcase of the shitshow that is capitalism and the greasy pole of corporate life: the survival of the shittest in sharp relief. This is now true of all aspects of life: as politics has become indistinguishable from business, and capitalism has taken over all aspects of existence, every bugger is using business-speak and striving to attain success not by means of hard work and talent, but by connivery and cuntishness. And it needs to be called out, and blocked wherever possible.

This new EP by GURT is nothing less than an absolute beast. With three tracks clocking in at ten and a half minutes, there’s no flab, no extravagant solos, no wanking about. They’re described as purveyors of ‘party doom’, but they’re a bit too uptempo to be doom and far too doomy to be party for most. Ultimately, their thing is a rabid racket, and at times, I’m reminded of the Leeds scene circa 2010 and shortly after, specifically around the emergence of crazed guitar noise acts like Pulled Apart by Horses and These Monsters. These were exciting times, particularly as it predated the need for professionalism to make it even onto a stage. Don’t get me wrong: these were great bands, but they were also wild, and things feel a lot more contained now.

GURT do not feel contained, GURT feel deranged, unhinged, rampant. ‘Live Nation, Dead Scene’ goes in all guns blazing, a rabid rager presumably targeted at the multinational ticket agency – operating what’s probably one of the biggest legal scams on the planet right now, with their exorbitant fees and dynamic pricing. The music industry has always sought to gouge every penny from fans while the artists themselves wallow at the bottom of the pile when it comes to benefiting from the proceeds, but Live Nation have hatched a whole new level of exploitatious robbery. They are literally – and yes, I do mean that – killing music for profit, and should be boycotted at all costs. I doubt this is a major issue for GURT.

The title track is a low-slung, sludgy, riff-driven roar, propelled by some ferocious drumming. The vocals are mangled to all hell, and it’s seriously gnarly.

Their cover of 2 Unlimited’s ‘No Limit’ simply shouldn’t work. It’s truly preposterous, audacious, and absurd. Metal covers of pop and dance tunes is old hat, predictable, corny… and yet they overcome all of this to conclude the EP with a ballsy, over-the-top take on a dance-pop song that’s as maligned as it was successful. This version’s not going to be making number one in a hundred countries around the world or filling dancefloors in perpetuity, but credit to GURT for the inspired choice. And now ‘party doom’ makes sense. Get on down, motherfuckers!

AA

AA

GURT_SOTS_Cover

Watch: ‘Shame!’ by LiVES vs Dolium

Posted: 12 May 2026 in Recommended Streams and Videos, Singles and EPs
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Dolium x LiVES collide on ‘Shame!’, a high-friction joint single that blurs the line between collaboration and confrontation. Rooted in indie rock and sharpened by punk urgency, it’s a track driven by tension, energy, and shared intent.

Since reforming in 2024 for the 20th Anniversary of their label, Sister 9 Recordings, lo-fi/post-punk/scuzz-rockers Dolium have been quietly building toward a new chapter. In their early days, the band caused quite a buzz on the UK underground music scene, catching the attention of BBC radio legend, John Peel.  That legacy is captured in their critically acclaimed limited-edition 4CD box set, The Products Of Our Own Demands And Commands. Now, in 2026, they return with renewed focus, and a new era of furious punk rock.

Born in Cornwall and sharpened in Kent, LiVES are a visceral collision of post-punk intensity and hard rock precision. Their debut album Let Them Eat Cake landed like a fist through a wall, fast, aggressive, and socio-politically charged. Louder Than War called it “a nihilistic expression of anger and disillusionment.” Their track Just Can’t Get Enough reached a wider audience through its placement on the Netflix series Lucifer. With airplay across BBC 6 Music, Radio X and BBC Introducing, a sold-out European tour, and support slots alongside Buzzcocks, SPAN and Danny Wildheart, LiVES have built a reputation as a band made for rooms that sweat. They return here in full force.

The creative spark was immediate.“I knew I wanted to work with someone that had as much anger and attitude as me. The moment I heard Rhys’s work, I was like, hell yeah… this is fire.” – Peter (LiVES) What started as a skeletal, verseless track quickly evolved into something more dynamic. Dolium took the initial framework into the studio and, as Rhys puts it, “added their venom,” with the song ultimately “bent beautifully into shape between us from across the miles.” Built remotely, with ideas passed back and forth, ‘Shame!’ became a true crossfire – LiVES driving the choruses while Dolium took command of the verses. The result is a track that feels both fractured and unified: two bands, one shared fury…

LiVES vs Dolium – UK duel headline shows

15 May 2026 – The Dead Famous, Newquay

16 May 2026 – The Water Rats, London 

AA

Shame

Irked / JUKU / Chaffinch / Duck – Fulfordgate WMC, York, 9th May 2026

Posted: 10 May 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
1

Christopher Nosnibor

One measure of how much I’ve enjoyed a night is by volume the notes I’ve made. It’s not a hard and fast rule, but fewer notes tend to indicate that I’ve been too immersed in the performances – and likely being social in between – to write much. And so it is that I returned home tonight with a bunch of blurry photos and the grand total of fifty-four words.

Yes, for their one-year anniversary gig, Utterly Fuzzled have laid on a truly top-class lineup – and it’s drawn a deservedly significant crowd. And the gong is back! A feature of the early events, it’s a welcome return for this signature piece of instrumentation, which variously heralds the opening of a set, or otherwise

Sheffield’s Duck are making their Fuzzled debut, and showcase a northern post-punk style that emanates authenticity, due in no small part to their vintage drum machine and synths which define the sound. They had issues with their levels throughout the set, taking a song or two before the drum machine cut through some particularly murky, bassy guitar and the dominant synths, only to sink back beneath the waves two-thirds of the way through. But then the tide was in their favour, they were ace, with a crisp pop edge and some nice harmonies. In places, they reminded me of short-lived and criminally underrated goth-pop act Sunshot (whose guitarist, Toby Bricheno, is the brother of Tim Bricheno, formerly of All About Eve and The Sisters of Mercy).

DSC00026

Duck

It wouldn’t be an Utterly Fuzzled event without one of the various projects of the organisers on the bill, and tonight we get a – comparatively rare – outing from Chaffinch, which in terms of lineup is essentially Knitting Circle plus an additional guitarist. Sonically, they are somewhat different. Precisely what they sound like seems to be a topic for debate, with different people hearing different things, and with no recordings, it’s impossible to verify. To my ear, it’s a cocktail of mathy post-punk with some c.86 indie jangle and a dash of shoegaze, which is perhaps best summarised as ‘chaffinchous’ (there you go, Jamie, the royalties from the coinage are in the post).

DSC00054DSC00089

Chaffinch

The aforementioned additional guitarist is a towering presence – both physically and sonically, and requires a lot of space for his expressive playing, playing in front of the stage, trading angular chords with Pete Dale, while Jo knocks out chunky, solid basslines by way of balance. Considering they’re debuting some new and recently revised material, they manage to keep it tight, and by the end of the set, all bar drummer Marc are in front of the stage.

DSC00103

Chaffinch

Riff behemoths JUKU never disappoint, and tonight they’re fully pumped-up and giving 110%. They bring maximum riffs, and maximum rock ‘n’ roll, at maximum volume. On paper, comparatively primitive song structures, based around, repetitive chords hammered out hard is cool and all, but hardly a revelation. It’s not so much what they do, then, but how they do it: propelled by powerhouse percussion and blasting bass, the twin guitar assault forges a ferocious wall of sound. It’s not volume simply for its own sake, but with the function of rendering a visceral physicality to their performances. And they all play as if their instruments are plugged directly into the mains, with an electric, kinetic energy that positively crackles. Practically all of my photos of Dan Gott are unusable, his features blurred like a Francis Bacon portrait, and looking on, I feel as if my own face is melting in the face of the sheer sonic force tearing forth.

DSC00140DSC00124

JUKU

Any references likening the experience to being hit by a freight train, or a freewheeling juggernaut with failed brakes hitting terminal velocity as it screams downhill are entirely appropriate. But for all the noise, the three-way vocals and some deft detail within the guitar work demonstrates an attention to melody and nuance: they very much do have songs. ‘Out of Control’ is a straight-up grunger in the vein of Hole.

Irked were second from top of the bill at the first Utterly Fuzzled on 10th May last year (and with Crumbs and Slime City also featured, it’s possible to now look back and see just what a statement of intent this was). They’ve come quite some way in that time, having released their debut album, The Grievance at the start of the month, and won a high-profile fan in the form of none other than Simon le Bon. If they were phenomenal a year ago, they’re even better now. The formula is classic, vintage punk, with short, sharp songs focused on three-chord riffs played hard and very, very fast, with the lyrics hollered just and hard and just as fast. Irked do pissed off and angry, but they also do fun. Not only are they incredibly entertaining, but it’s clear they’re enjoying themselves, too: Helen may be endlessly pacing, lunging, clambering, in the crowd and in your face, but she’s equally prone to fits of giggles.

DSC00208DSC00191

Irked

It’s guitarist Simon who delivers the chat and banter, griefing his bandmates in a good-natured way, and oftentimes absolutely hilarious, although ahead of the last couple of songs, he does pause to reflect on the state of the nation and the dire prospects we face in the wake of last week’s council elections, but taking the opportunity to praise the community spirit of nights like this. He’s absolutely right: what Utterly Fuzzled give us is more than great bands. There’s a warmth in the room (and not just because it’s packed and there’s no aircon): people come here and feel able to leave the bad shit at the door and see first-hand that there is good in the world. We need to not lose sight of this.

DSC00225

Irked

They close their blistering set with a quick one-two of ‘The Hardest Man in Billingham’ and debut single ‘Backstreets’, making for a ferocious finale to a fantastic night.

The buzz in the room as people draw breath and process what they’ve just witnessed is unmistakeable. Here’s looking to another year of Fuzzled brilliance.

Older Entries