Posts Tagged ‘Single Review’

Launchpad+ and EMI North – 25th February 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

From Interpol to Editors to White Lies and far beyond, including, at present IST IST, dark-edged post-punk acts displaying strong Joy Division influence have been emerging for the last twenty years now, and more. Some are better than others, some capture the mood more effectively than others.

It’s perhaps because they’re from Leeds that The 113 are particularly good at capturing the mood: the spawning ground of goth in the 80s, the Leeds scene has always stood apart from not only the mainstream, but other major cities of the north, particularly Manchester and Sheffield, which in turn have always had their own identities: in the early 00s Leeds was hotbed for innovative post-rock, and has, over the last decade, yielded ever noisier, ever more angular, ever weirder bands, but also bands of quality who simply do – or did – their own thing, from Hawk Eyes and These Monsters to Castrovalva and I Like Trains, Thank, Post War Glamour Girls, Beige Palace, Black Moth, BELK, Irk, and of course, the mighty Blacklisters.

The 113 aren’t nearly as abrasive or far-out as many of these acts with whom they share turf, but their debut EP, To Combat Regret, released last March packed some blustering urgency to the familiar post-punk template. Both ‘Scour’ and previous single ‘Leach’ continue the same trajectory – lean, dark post-punk vibes, driven by dense bass, insistent percussion and some sinewy guitar work, creating tension and using it to powerful effect – but if anything, this is tauter, tenser, and more nuanced: the melodic, shoegaze mid-section adds significant impact to the song’s explosive conclusion.

This, in conjunction with ‘Leach’ says that the forthcoming EP, The Headonist (out April 17th) will be killer, and the upcoming tours in April and May look like something to get excited about, too.

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Photo: Naomi Whitehead

Blaggers Records – 13th February 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Friday 13th may be unlucky for some, but not for JW Paris – or their fans – with the eclectic ‘90s-grunge-meets-Britpop three piece’ dropping new single ‘Crazy’ as an opening salvo ahead of a new EP.

They premiered it at BBC Radio 1’s Big Weekend – a bold move, which takes some guts, but it’s one heck of a way to build anticipation with a massive audience. The power of mainstream radio may not be what it was back in the 80s and 90s – the fragmentation of the mainstream and the way we come to hear music is very different now, and the ubiquity of R1 has been diluted since the Internet reshaped the cultural landscape from around the turn of the millennium onwards, but it’s still the biggest single channel in the UK, with a weekly audience of almost three-quarters of a million. The Big Weekends feature big names and draw massive audiences, and are a big deal.

‘Crazy’ is a tune that’s right at home in this setting, not because it’s insipid churned-out digital chart-pop fodder, but because it is one of those songs that’s an instant grab, a massive, uptempo, singalong anthem that’s got a clear pop sensibility, but all the appeal for indie fans, too.

For those who are willing to go deeper than the immediacy of a huge chorus, the lyrical content is surely relatable to many, too, articulating ‘the madness that comes from repetition… the feeling of running on a treadmill you can’t get off, of doing the same thing over and over until it starts to warp your sense of reality. Built around the classic definition of insanity, the track digs into what happens when your routine becomes a loop, a trap, and eventually… a spiral.’ Who hasn’t been there, at least at some point? Where you wake up, go to work, eat, perhaps slump on the sofa in front of the TV, then sleep, and feel like life is passing you by as you spend weeks, which become months… etc. running just to stay still, merely existing just to keep paying the bills. It sucks. ‘Crazy’ doesn’t suck, though, and despite its subject matter, it’s uplifting and energetic, and it’ll surely make its way to a TV show or soundtrack of some sort soon.

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JW Paris by Xandru

Glitch Mode Recordings – 9th January 2026

It’s been a little while since we last heard from .SYS Machine, when they slipped ‘Graceful Isolation’ out in the wake of the pandemic lockdowns. One reason for this is that Dave McAnally has been busy with industrial side-project Derision Cult – but with ‘Doubtless’, .SYS Machine presage the arrival of a new album, Parts Unknown due out in April.

While the dark electronic pop of .SYS Machine is sonically more accessible than Derision Cult McAnally’s lyrics have a tendency to draw on the experience of living through our trying times, and ‘Doubtless’ is no exception, exploring as it does the challenge of ‘maintaining sanity in an increasingly turbulent and chaotic world’.

The vocal melody and McAnally’s drawling intonation bring something of a country feel, which is quite a contrast to the metronomic pulsating disco beat and the synths, which are airy and even hint at a sense of optimism. There are strong hints of Violator-era Depeche mode woven into the fabric of the song, particularly in the chorus, and it balances broodiness with a certain buoyancy. The way the elements interlace is intriguing, and far from obvious – meaning this is a grower rather than an instant grab.

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29th August 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

When I was a child, I used to suffer anxiety – often when I was unable to sleep (my complex relationship with insomnia began at the age of five) – that my memories were stored in the vast eighteen-volume encyclopaedia my family owned, and I would be unable to access them because I couldn’t remember which volume they were stored in. Not that it was recognised as anxiety at the time: my parents would tell me to stop padding downstairs and bothering them, and to go to sleep. There’s a (sort of) valid reason for this (the anxiety, not the parental dismissal, but that’s an essay for another time): said encyclopaedia was made up from weekly magazines string-bound in identical hardback covers – a precursor to those infinite volume magazines devoted to knitting or whatever, or where you would build a Death Star in 300 instalments, that would likely cease publication before the collection was complete – and there were issues missing, including segments of the index, and topics were not arranged alphabetically like a conventional encyclopaedia. I couldn’t even find my favourite illustrations of dinosaurs fighting a lot of the time.

Things have only become more difficult since the advent of the Internet, and while spent my youth and even my early twenties in a pre-Internet world, there are many now who have never known anything else. Kids have existed online even pre-cognisance thanks to parents posting endless pics of them growing up on social media, and YouTube and Netflix have replaced conventional TV for anyone born in the last twenty years now.

Memory, identity, and their changing nature of both under the conditions of lives lived permanently online, are primary subjects of exploration for solo artist Will N, songwriter, performer, engineer, admin, and the man behind industrial / darkwave act Solid State Sunlight. These topics provided the focus of the ExoAnthro EP last year, and ‘Failsafe’ continues that trajectory, ‘address[ing] the realization that the more we develop our own identity, the less memory remains for experiencing life moving forward. Does it delete previous memory to make space for ongoing growth? What memories are disposable? What are the consequences if it fails?’

I hadn’t considered this, or the idea of what he refers to as ‘data-poisoning’ before, having come to view the mind as a recording device, which captured and archived every single experience, every thought, e very book read, movie seen, but stored them in such a way that it accessing those archives was often a random process – Random Access Memory in the most literal sense.

But we scroll, and we scroll, and we troll, and we troll, and personalities become fragmented, real-life and online personas and experiences partitioned off from one another. Who are you? As AI takes over, the lines are becoming increasingly blurred.

‘FailSafe’ is a gnarly, glitchy technoindustrial stomp through melting circuitry that collides Depeche Mode and Nine Inch Nails with Twitch-era Ministry, with crunching beats dominating jolting electronics and raspy vocals. The intro is a grating bass throb, emerging from an abstract crackle – and then the beat kicks in. And it kicks hard.

If the autotune / robotix breakdown in the middle sounds a shade retro or corny, it works in context, reminding us of how the visions of the future portrayed not so long ago have been replaced by a truly dystopian present. The future was exciting. Computers would make life easier, give us more leisure time and infinite knowledge: that was the promise. Now look where we are. The corporate takeover of the Internet was where it all started to sour, and it was inevitable, but still somehow came as a surprise.

With ‘FailSafe’, Solid State Sunlight draw together a host of references and points of discussion, directly or otherwise, through the savvy hybrid formulation of the composition. It’s hard, and it hits with some attack. This is the vibe of the late eighties and early nineties updated to poke the paranoia of the now. We live in troublesome – by which I mean hellish, fucked-up – times, and with ‘FailSafe’, Solid State Sunlight poke that nerve.

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13th August 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Re:O’s ninth single is a song of frustration, of dissatisfaction, about giving everything and receiving underwhelming returns. It’s a song about life’s struggles. And it takes the form of musical hybridity taken to another level. And when it comes to taking things far out, Japan has a long history of it. Only Japan could have given us Merzbow and Masonna, Mono and Melt-Banana, Shonen Knife and Baby Metal – acts which couldn’t be more different, or more wildly inventive. J-Pop may not be my bag, but on reading that Re:O take ‘the best of Japanese alternative music and combin[e] western metal and rock… Re:O has been described by fans as “Japancore” a mix of Metalcore, industrial metal, J-Pop, Darkpop, cyberpunk inspired symphonic layers with high energy and heavy guitar.” It’s a tantalising combination on which I’m immediately sold.

Hybridity in the arts emerged from the avant-garde, before becoming one of the defining features of postmodernity: the second half of the twentieth century can be seen as a veritable melting-pot, as creatives grappled with the notion that everything truly original had already been done, and so the only way to create something new was to plunder that which had gone before and twist it, smash it, reformulate it, alchemise new permutations. If the zeal – not to mention any sense of irony or knowingness – of such an approach to creativity seems to have been largely drained in the first quarter of the twenty-first century, Re:O prove that there’s life in art still after all.

With ‘Crimson Desire’ they pack more ideas into three and a half minutes than seems humanly feasible, starting out with snarling synths, meaty beats, and churning bass – a combination of technoiundustrial and nu-metal – before brain-shredding, overloaded industrial guitar chords blast in over Rio Suyama’s blistering vocal. And it blossoms into an epic chorus that’s an instant hook but still powered by a weighty instrumental backing. The mid-section is simply eye-popping, with hints of progressive metal in the mix.

The only other act doing anything remotely comparable right now is Eville, who have totally mastered the art of ball-busting nu-metal riffery paired with powerfully melodic choruses rendered all the more potent for strong female vocals, but Re:O bring something different again, ad quite unique to the party. It’s all in the delivery, of course, but they have succeeded in creating a sound that is theirs, and theirs alone. No two ways about it, they’re prime for Academy size venues, and given a fair wind, they could – and deserve to be – there this time next year.

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Christopher Nosnibor

When it comes to formats and the strategies for marketing new releases, it’s clear – particularly in hindsight – that the 90s was the peak period for milking fans with myriad formats, each featuring different mixes or edits, B-sides, and artwork. Now, I am by no means a nostalgia nut, but as a collector, part of me does miss this – particularly when most releases aren’t even available physically anymore, and some aren’t even downloadable. Adding a track your playlist is… nothing.

The latest offering from Glasgow’s wonky lo-fi maestros, Dragged Up, sees a different approach, at least, with an edited version of the A-side being released to streaming platforms but a full-length version available to download via Bandcamp, with the B-side being released a week later, followed by a physical release via the ever-innovative label Rare Vitamin.

You really need the full five-minute version of ‘Blake’s Tape’ to take it all in, to bask in the glory of the epic intro of churning feedback and rumbling discord which eventually gives way to a stomping, rambunctious indie tune which brings in elements of post-punk and folk, a collision of UK 80s and US 90s, and with the verses and choruses sounding like they belong to different songs, the dynamic is strong, switching as it does from nonchalance to pumping energy. And both are magnificently executed.

‘Clachan Dubh’ is a fast-paced, high-energy blast of fizzy guitars and blissfully loose interswitching vocals, and again it’s a collision of Pavement and The Fall plus all the scuzzy indue acts you’d read about in NME and Melody Maker in the early 90s. It’s less a case of them sounding like this band or that band, and more about the way they distil these various zetigeists and amalgamate them into a magnificent alt-rock hybrid which sounds like so much that’s gone before, and at the same time completely unique.

Oh, and they’ve got songs. Great songs. Get stuck in. And maybe go and see them on tour in a small venue in August, because after touring as the support for Steve Malkmus’ new band in the summer, there’s a fair chance they’ll be playing bigger places by this time next year.

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Negative Gain Productions – 16th May 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

‘Give Me Your Stare’ is the first taste of the forthcoming album, Death Games from Irish darkwave artist OWLS.

It’s pitched as ‘a seduction: a desperate call for the gaze of someone whose love comes with a quiet promise of devastation… a dance floor confession in the fog of emotional collapse…. With echoes of goth romanticism and a subtle menace beneath its polish.’

Seduction and desperation strike me as sitting at odds with one another: desperation has a scent, a look in the eye that’s less ‘come to bed’ and more ‘flee the situation’ – and yet with ‘Give Me Your Stare’ it makes some kind of sense.

These contradictions are elementary, harking back through time and now well-worn cliché to the tropes forged by Elizabethan sonneteers. I’m reminded of Sir Thomas Wyatt’s ‘I Find No Peace’, which contains the lines, ‘I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice’, and ‘I desire to perish, and yet I ask health / I love another, and thus I hate myself,’ concluding ‘And my delight is causer of this strife.’

And in essence, ‘Give Me Your Stare’ succeeds as a contemporary articulation of that inner turmoil, all delivered with a steely control that’s either clenched-tight keeping things together, or sociopathic.

With the vocals down in the mix, and delivered with an easy soulfulness, it’s the bass and beats which dominate, and the groove is simultaneously smooth and hard-edged, thanks to the combination of soft synth layers and a crisp kick drum that packs some punch. And for all of the glass-like production, there’s emotion there, and, what’s more, it’s all packed into a neat dark pop package that clocks in at a perfect three minutes and thirty.

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27th March 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Chess Smith, the self-styled ‘Queen of the High Held Head Walk’ continues her return to the musical fray after four years out, having split from the band she fronted and become a parent, and follows the energetic pop statement of intent that was ‘Bounce Back’ with ‘Drama King’. Writing about it here feels a shade incongruous, given Aural Aggravation’s commitment to all things as far away from the mainstream as it’s possible to conceive, because as was the case with its predecessor, ‘Drama King’ is a tightly-packed and meticulously delivered slice of pop that’s overtly commercial and as mainstream-orientated as it gets. But Chess hasn’t broken into the mainstream consciousness yet, and having grown up and discovered music by watching Top of the Pops and listening to the Top 40 on Radio 1 in the 80s, I am never going to be snobby about pop music as a thing, and reckon I know a decent pop tune when I hear one. And this fits the bill nicely.

Time have changed since the 80s, of course, and technology and production values have evolved significantly, and his singles then would be considered demo quality now. Suffice it to say, Smith has it all absolutely nailed here.

‘Drama King’ three-and-a-half minutes of stirring, soulful and incredibly slick pop. The production is smooth, clean, crisp, and everything is ironed to wrinkle-free perfection on this uplifting, buoyant tune. But she balances style with substance, as she navigates the difficult terrain of narcissism and abuse:

You chase

Manipulate

Create

participate

Erase

And if word escapes

You retaliate

Interrogate

Deny ever to participate

Proof overtakes

And It escalates

It may be easy on the ear, but this is strong stuff. That she’s drawing on experience and processing through art is powerful. That she speaks for so many is a grim reality. Calling this shit out is really only the start, but a start it is. Chess is back, alright, and her voice needs to be heard.

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Sett Records – 22th February 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Just over a decade on from their debut album, and just shy of seven years after their last release, purveyors of ethereal goth, Mercury’s Antennae mark their return with a new single in the form of ‘The Reflecting Skin’. The trio comprises Dru Allen and Cindy Coulter of This Ascension, and Erick R. Scheid of The Palace of Tears, and the fact they’re currently based between Switzerland and the US is a possible factor in their time away (not to mention the fact a lot of musical artists, especially those who are geographically disparate lost a lot of time and progress to a global pandemic).

As their Bandcamp page states, ‘Their sound incorporates influences from shoegaze pop, ethereal darkwave, and unadorned acoustic beauty, while also drawing inspiration from ambient and modern electronica’.

‘The Reflecting Skin’ brings pretty much all of this in a near-perfect three-and-a-half minutes. Starting out with a dense, chorus-soaked bass, loping drums and chilly synths conjure a dark yet dreamy atmosphere that’s quintessentially gothy but without being cliché. Dru Allen’s layered vocals spin evocative and mystical words gracefully through it all, to mesmerising, almost spiritual effect.

B-side, ‘AGALIA MMXXV’, is, as one might expect, a rerecording of the song from their debut album, A Waking Ghost Inside. It’s different enough to justify the effort: it has a more muscular, denser feel, altogether less brittle and cloud-like, with the bass and drums being sturdier and more pronounced, while still retaining the expansive shoegaze magnificence of the original. This, I suppose is telling in terms of reflecting the evolution of their sound.

That this single release is remixed by William Faith, ex-Faith and the Muse, suggests there’s an original version, which is – one would hope – going to feature on the forthcoming album, due for release in the spring.

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14th February 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Eville, who have been gaining momentum – and radio play – for a while, soared to a new peak with ‘Ballistic’ late last year. While sonically encapsulating the title, it also distilled the very essence of the band into THE most explosive two-and-a-bit minutes of no-messing nu-metal.

If ‘Plaything’ suggests something more cuddly, think again. Once again, they tap that classic nu-metal structure of a quiet but tetchy intro, jittery electronics by way of an intro – Something that can be traced back to Pitch Shifter’s first couple of albums back in the early 90s. ‘Gritter’ from Submit is exemplary, and of course not only would Pitch Shifter transition to an overtly nu-metal sound at the turn of the millennium, incorporating elements of drum ‘n’ bass in their sound in the late 90s, but guitarist Jim Davis played with both Pitchshifter (as they became) and The Prodigy. This detour is simply to illustrate the crossover between genres, and to contextualise the sound Eville have absolutely mailed – because after this tense, tetchy intro, the monumental riff hits, and hits hard, and immediately hits an irresistible groove.

A mere ten seconds in, and it’s clear that this is going to be a killer – and it is.

‘I might look cute but Imma get gnarly / I can get nasty, nothing gets past me,’ Eva Sheldreake warns, picking up the lyrical thread of ‘Ballistic’ and presenting a strong feminist stance. The message is direct and clear, and the band’s photos back it up: whether the outfit is a pink bikini or decorating garb, never judge a woman by her outfit, and never assume she’s lacking capability, whether it’s to do DIY or play guitar and rock out, hard.

‘Plaything’ certainly rocks out, and hard. The sheer density of the sound kicks the air out of your lungs, while the chorus hook is as strong as they come. The mid-section goes full Slipknot, the barbed-wire-wrapped baseball bat referenced in the lyrics translating to the brutal delivery.

Where Eville stand out – apart from on every level – is in the way they bring ultra-pro, radio-quality production and accessible melody to massively hefty, bludgeoning metal. If there was ever any doubt that they should be playing festivals rather than pubs, ‘Plaything’ obliterates it. No two ways about it: these guys are ready to conquer the world.