Posts Tagged ‘single revierw’

COP International – 31st December 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

The adage that you should never judge a book by its cover is a nonsense, and certainly doesn’t apply to records. I was instantly drawn to Stoneburner’s ‘New Year Same Fuckin You’ for its referencing – by which I mean almost direct lifting – of the artwork for the Foetus All Nude Review ‘Bedrock’ 12”, one of JG Thirlwell’s first forays into the ‘big band’ swing sound back in 1987.

It transpires they’ve got form: previous releases ape the fourth Foetus album, Nail, as well as Big Black’s Atomizer, and no doubt other releases reference things I’m unfamiliar with, as it’s impossible to know everything within another’s sphere of reference, and Stoneburner have released a hell of a lot in a comparatively short time. But I always maintain there’s more honour in being up-front in acknowledging one’s influences than trying to hide them, and have all the admiration for Stoneburner for their unashamed referencing. By now, we all know – or should know – that there’s nothing news, so better to front up and embrace the fact instead of feebly proclaiming artistic innovation.

The solo project of Steven Archer, best known for his work with the electronic rock band Ego Likeness, as well has is abstract electronica project ::Hopeful Machines::, he’s one of those creatives who simply gushes new material.

For ‘New Year Same Fuckin You’, Archer has enlisted Rodney Anonymous, Matt Fanale, and Mark Alan Miller, and it’s something of a departure from the majority of the Stoneburner catalogue, which, while very much given to industrial leanings, also place considerable emphasis on atmosphere and drama (in the way JG Thirlwell and Raymond Watts do, setting Foetus and PIG apart from the majority of the field). There’s no such subtlety here: ‘New Year Same Fuckin You’ is a balls-out blaster.

The track is pitched as ‘a rallying cry for a time when so many feel defeated and powerless. A time when giving up seems easier. But when I think of those who marched across the bridge in Selma, knowing full well what was waiting for them; when I think of the women who sacrificed everything for their autonomy; when I think of every brave soul who stood tall against oppression, I know this: we owe it to them to rise again.’

It’s a strong sentiment delivered at a time when mood and energy feels like it’s at an all-time low. It’s hard to recall a festive season that’s felt less festive, and celebrating extravagantly with gifts and feasts has felt quite wrong while the world is at war and hyperconsumption continues to drive climate change. What are we actually celebrating here? The idea that we’re ‘doing it for the kids’ rings rather hollow when you know that every overpriced piece plastic of tat stuffed in a stocking is another nail in the coffin of the future they’ll inherit.

And this brings us to the gimmick of New Year’s resolutions. How many last past the first fortnight of any given new year? Mostly people seem to resolve to get fitter, and take out gym memberships with good but misguided intent. Gym conglomerates rub their hands as they make half the year’s profits in a week or so, knowing that the regulars won’t be complaining of overcrowding again come February. Most goals set are as pointless as they are unattainable., but how many set themselves the target of being less of a cunt in the coming year, eh? Eh? Yeah – New Year Same Fuckin You.

This is a full-throttle raging technonidustrial banger, and curiously, as much as it’s in the vein of KMFDM and the entirety of the Wax Trax! catalogue with its pounding, hard-edged disco beat and snarling synths and mangled vocals, I can’t help but be reminded of ‘It’s Grim Up North’ by the JAMMs.

As an anti-trend anthem, with it’s ‘Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!’ refrain, ‘New Year Same Fuckin You’ is the perfect counterpoint to all of the motivational guff that circulates all year round but becomes particularly prevalent at this time of year as every agency going advertises to appeal to your shame – shame for your indulgence, your weight gain, your slacking, your failure to move forward in your life goals – in an attempt to take your money and convince you that spending with them will make your life better. Yes, fuck you! Get a grip. You want your life better? Start by taking control of your own direction, instead of paying for apps and influencers and life coaches to tell you what you already know. Need reminding that this is the true way forward? Listen to this on repeat for an hour daily.

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16th June 2022

Christopher Nosnibor

This one may have been kicking around for a while, but I’m playing catchup here, as Henry Kelly often used to say on Going for Gold – although I always remember it sounding more like he was telling the contestants ‘yir playing ketchup’. If this seems like an unspeakably strange digression, that’s simply how my brain works, by a lengthy chain of obscure connections, but it does serve to lead – perhaps more by accident than design – to the nostalgia point, in that I remember watching Going for Gold in the early 90s (it ran from 87-96 with Kelly presenting), and while there’s no actual correspondence, I associate the period with my discovery of music in the sense of an awakening: there was a real buzz about the early 90s that is hard to convey to anyone who wasn’t immersed in it, and it went beyond grunge.

With ‘The Truth’, taken from their album Ascension, released on 19th August, Atlanta-based Pistols At Dawn invite comparisons to the driving guitar-driven anguish of Filter and encapsulate that mid-to-late 90s US alternative sound. The guitars are thick and chunky, and there are hooks galore and a huge chorus. The production is dense and its both crisp and dirty, and throw in a backdrop of explosions and backwards baseball caps and everything comes together perfectly. It’s not all about the nostalgia factor, and credit has to go to Pistols at Dawn for a kicking riff-driven tune that’s well-executed – but it’s undeniable that the fact it calls to mind what was, for many people of a certain demographic, an epochal spell in guitar-based music, is a significant part of its appeal.

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1st July 2022

Christopher Nosnibor

London / Brighton quartet Insolace consist of Millie Cook (vocals), Conor Hyde (guitar), Sam Bryant (bass) and Onyi Olisa (drums), and I suppose you could reasonably summarise ‘I Won’t Cry’ as one of those ‘strong’ songs – one whereby the ultimate message is one of empowerment, despite it’s primary theme being of mental struggle. Here, against a backdrop of busy, accessible math-orientated jangle Cook pitches lyrics about being in the place of the supporter to someone who’s struggling.

Sonically, on the one hand it’s kinda buoyant emo, and even a bit poppy, but on the other, it’s got a bit of a 2004/5 vibe that I have a certain nostalgia for, which is something I never expected – a time when every other band was jangly, noodly, mathy, and some if it was fun, but ultimately you only need one Explosions in the Sky, and so many Spokes style acts, and probably only one Wintermute…a nd then my brain pokes me with a reminder of Everything Everything. And then you reach a point where less is more, and actually, just a little variety goes a long way.

But it’s easy to be critical, and over time, things do change. Where’s all the noodly math-rock now? Some of it’s here, it seems, and ‘I Won’t Cry’ feels like a 21st Century response to The Cure’s seminal classic ‘Boy’s Don’t Cry’. I Won’t Cry I Won’t Cry’ is busy, and a shade technical. But it’s crisp, and has a solid hook, and for that alone it deserves a wide audience.

Insolace