Posts Tagged ‘Single Review’

1st December 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

The Australians seem to have a knack for full-throttle, high-energy punk-tinged guitar acts, where there’s a strong focus on fun. They certainly have a long punk heritage down under, with The Saints kicking things off way back in 1973, and their debut single, ‘I’m Stranded’ arriving within weeks of The Damned’s ‘New Rose’. Perhaps it’s the sun and surf, or just the broader culture in Australia which produces bands like this, cutting their teeth in tiny venues and even house parties.

Fun doesn’t have to be dumb, bone-headed or moronic: DZ Deathrays and Mannequin Death Squad are both notable exemplars who’ve proven to be popular exports here in the UK, and to that list we can add Annakye, demonstrating some songwriting savvy and an appreciation of the fact that a strong hook is everything.

‘Headstart’ is two-and-a-half minutes of big, buzzing guitars that shift from driving riffery to lurching stop/start with clattering drums that hammer in hard and paired with a bustling, busy bassline with some punch and bounce, it’s got moshery emanating from every second.

On paper, ‘Two seconds apart / head start’ isn’t much of a hook, but it’s all in the delivery – and repetition goes a long way when it comes to lodging it in your brain. Earworm? Nailed it.

1st December 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Ah, the power of a strong intro… and the power of nostalgia. The beefy riffage that launches ‘Flux’ by London act Shockpowder… it’s bold and it’s grungy, and the vocals are dreamy melodic, drifting, and I’m instantly dragged back to the early 90s.

Formed in 2015, I wonder if the members of Shockpowder would even remember the early 90s, but they clearly have a strong affinity, and note that they’re ‘heavily influenced by post rock, shoegaze and metal bands such as God is an Astronaut, Alcest and Slowdive.’

What I get from ‘Flux’ is a wistful, emotive element which is carried on some amped-up guitars that are simultaneously jangling and loud, and in many ways reminiscent of early Ride, and, perhaps rather less well-known, Eight Storey Window. Why they never gained more recognition, I will never understand, but then, the era was littered with great bands who were criminally underrated. How long did it take for The God Machine’s greatness to be recognised? Too long, and even now, they seem to be something of a cult for connoisseurs.

It’s not just a question of sound: any musician who’s spent enough time immersed in listening and paying attention to detail, and given the right gear, the right amp, the right pedals, the right production, can recreate the sound of their influences. But what counts is the feeling. ‘Flux’ is imbued with that vaguest, most inaccessible and yet essential ingredients – emotion. There’s something that goes beyond the minimal lyrics, reflecting on the ephemerality of life, something that goes beyond the distortion and reverb, hitting that indefinable spot of resonance. You don’t hear it, you feel it.

After this long, and having amassed a considerable catalogue, Shockpowder probably aren’t about to go stratospheric any time soon, but it’s the world’s loss, ultimately, because ‘Flux’ is, quite simply, a great song.

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3rd November 2023

James Wells

New single ‘Showtime’ from Russian ‘occult wave’ / goth duo, Raven Said, arrives just over a year on from the EP Chants to Dissolve, and it promises to be the first from their next full-length release.

They describe it as ‘a kind of exciting prologue telling about the themes of a personal awareness and braving of one’s own internal boundaries. It’s transcendence of individual subconsciousness, even in the face of the inner fear or the despair. When you’re getting the power to create and transform despite seeming hopeless; when the curtain is raised and time freezes for a moment, when the stage is lit with the spotlights and the noise of the crowd is heard ahead, you take a step towards… Showtime!’

This reminds us that there is considerably more to Russia than the news of the Western media, where they’re broadly portrayed as ‘bad guys.’ We rarely stop to consider the reality of daily life in other countries – or, indeed, how our own countries are perceived internationally, while we’re getting on with everyday life, and generally struggling to stay afloat. In all this, we rarely see the people, the society, and fail to separate these things from their governments, their diplomats, and their military.

‘Showtime’ is what one might call a ‘banger’. Thumping disco beats and bold layers of synth provide the musical backing for the vocals, delivered in a brooding cross between a croon, a whisper, and a growl, packed with classic goth theatricality, and their touchstones of Clan of Xymox and second-wave goth acts like Rosetta Stone onwards, are strongly in evidence, crunching them together to create a synth-driven song that’s strong on both melody and groove.

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Criminal Records – 24th November 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Regular readers – and fans of Argonaut – will have probably observed that we’ve been pretty consistent in plugging their open-ended album-in-progress Songs from the Black Hat, which has seen the li-fi DIY indie act self-release a song a month via BandCamp. But October’s tune is today getting an official release on a real label – namely Criminal Records, home of The Kut, with whom they’ve released two previous albums.

Nathan explains the band’s methodology for the album’s continual evolution this: “At band practices we each write song titles on slips of paper & put them in the hat. One is then picked at random. We jam around that title & see what alchemy occurs. Most times the magic flows & the combined band chemistry creates something we are really pleased with.”

With two previous albums on Criminal Records, Argonaut’s newest release is produced by Jack Ashley of Popes Of Chillitown, and mastered by The Kut who was drummer/producer on Argonaut’s self-titled debut.

I still can’t hear the world ‘vulnerable’ without thinking of Nathan Barley and an image of David Bowie pissing into a Dualit toaster, but perhaps, particularly since the pandemic and our government’s shameful treatment of the poor and the disabled, I’ve become significantly more sensitive to the way in which vulnerability can be life-shaping, and rarely in a positive way.

Whereas perhaps even in the not so distant past, vulnerability was perceived as being synonymous with weakness, a great many of us understand that it is a fundamental facet of the human condition, and recognise that almost everyone is vulnerable in some way at some time or another. This may not be true of the right-wing tossers who scoff at showing vulnerability – or sensitivity to it – as being ‘soft’ and ‘woke’, but anyone who is a reasonable human being can empathise with how circumstance and life events can place strain on an individual, and just as we’re getting to a place where we can talk about mental health without being stigmatised, so we appreciate that to show vulnerability in fact requires strength in a way we didn’t not so long ago.

The fact that ‘we’ are the vulnerables – all of us – is the crux of the song’s lyrics, along with the painful truth that others will exploit vulnerability for their own ends:.

We are the vulnerables

And we are being used

We are the vulnerables

Me and you and you and me and you

Because it’s Argonaut, it’s a natty tune in the classic indie / alternative style: Lorna’s vocals are sweet and ultra-poppy and there’s both jangle and bounce to the instrumentation – but Nathan can’t resist bringing blasts of fizzy, fuzzy distorted guitar. It all stacks up to a superbly catchy indie pop tune from a band who have quite a catalogue to catchy indie pop tunes to their credit, and no doubt plenty more to come.

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Rare Vitamin Records – 20th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

The Battery Farm have had a truly extraordinary twelve months: the Manchester foursome released their debut album last November, and have been gigging hard off the back of it, with some pretty high-profile shows along the way. And this is a band that’s driven – not so much by ambition or aspirations of stardom, but by passion. These guys are purveyors of political, pissed off, authentic punk – not haircuts and threads, but sweaty, full-throttle 110% all the way. Benjamin Corry makes for a powerful presence, vocally, visually, and in the interviews he’s given. He may appear a shade scary and borderline deranged, but comes across as affable, articulate, and genuine.

The band exists to rail against the shitness of the world we find ourselves in, and perhaps buoyed by the reception of the album and recent shows, their twelfth single is more amped-up and fiery than ever. ‘House of Pain’ is three minutes of riff-driven fury that blasts in at a hundred miles an hour with a message that needs to be heard. Arguably, that message could be boiled down to the barest bones of ‘fuck this bullshit’, but the expanded articulation is that it addresses ‘the shame imposed on all of us who are scraping by in an ongoing and worsening cost of greed crisis. You do what you have to to survive, and how dare anyone in a position of privilege look down their nose.’

It needs to be heard because, as I was reading only earlier today online in The Guardian, ‘The number of people experiencing destitution in the UK has more than doubled in the last five years – up from 1.55 million in 2017. One million children are now living in destitute homes – a staggering increase of 186% in half a decade.’ That every single supermarket now has a place to donate to food banks speaks for itself; yet our government, whose job it is to protect society’s most vulnerable, simply dispense advice that if you can’t afford a cheese sandwich, to forgo the cheese, and who seem to think that broadband and mobile phones are luxury items the poor should do without, despite the fact it’s impossible to apply for jobs or even maintain benefits without them. The privately-educated governing elite are in the pockets of the likes of the oil industry, and they absolutely fucking hate the poor, and they want you to hate the poor too. And their hateful campaigning and sloganeering is depressingly effective: how else do you explain working-class people voting Conservative? It’s bewildering to think that people in impoverished towns in the north of England would vote for these cunts who’d happily bulldoze every council estate in the country, that they might think that the likes of Bozo Johnson and Richboi Sunak give even a flake of shit about them, let alone represent them – but the increasingly right-wing Tories appeal to the mentality of the impoverished and disenfranchised by apportioning the blame for the state of everything on ‘illegal’ immigrants, who come over here and sponge all the benefits. Stop the boats! Right. Then what?

The Battery Farm are spot on when they describe the current situation in the UK as a ‘cost of greed’ crisis. Everyone who’s already in the money is making on this: banks, oil and energy companies, supermarkets… any increases in costs are being passed directly to customers, and then some, all to protect profits, all to pass on to shareholders, all to give CEOs even bigger bonuses. The injustice, the social division is at a point where something has to give. Sadly, it seems that something is the lives of those at the bottom of the heap.

The Battery Farm can’t change the world, but they can provide a voice and an outlet to the anger at this injustice, and flipside ‘A Time of Peace’ is another full-throttle gritty blast of punk fury, reminiscent of the sound of ‘79/’80 – I’m thinking grimy roar of The Anti-Nowhere League and fellow Mancunians Slaughter and the Dogs by way of references here.

At the time of writing this, four days after release (I’ve been slack / drowning in dealing with everyday life stuff (delete as appropriate); physical copies on 7”, CD, and cassette have sold out, which is a huge achievement and shows just how they’ve built a committed following through a combination of belting tunes and sheer hard slog. This is their strongest work to date.

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7th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

West Midlands post-punk trio , The Glass House Museum, comprising Joe and Jon Cummings (both vocals and guitar) and Lee Meadows (programming and bass), have been releasing music since 2017, but ‘The Committee’ is their first new material since the mini-album Artifacts in 2020.

It begins with some dark atmospheric grumbling, some gloomy bell chimes and squawks, presumably the menacing cries of the vultures mentioned in the song’s chorus, and also featured on the cover art. And, naturally, the collective noun for vultures is a committee. Despite this literal referencing and representation, it’s apparent that the song’s meaning is truly somewhat rather more figurative: ‘Tread careful, stranger,’ is the caution which starts the song’s lyrics.

With the sequenced rhythm section, they hold the solid core groove tight, giving it that quintessential goth vibe.

Over the years, I’ve witnessed many detractors – and even fans – ask why bands like The Sisters of Mercy don’t get a drummer. There are numerous reasons why they don’t, won’t, and never would, but the main one is that the drum machine is a defining feature of the sound of that particular strain of post punk which came out of Leeds in the early 80s. That hard, relentless beat, paired with a bass that followed it, bam-bam-bam-bam, overlayed with guitars, edged with a metallic clang and shrouded in chorus and reverb created a perfect tension that isn’t really like anything else – and this is why it’s provided the blueprint for so many bands over the last forty years.

But to dismiss it as being ‘derivative’ would be to miss the point: this is about heritage and lineage, and also there’s a certain degree of knowingness to making references that are, in some ways, I suppose, tribal in their function. If you know, you know, and you’re one of ‘us’. And so it is that the lettering on the cover is lifted from Siousxie and the Banshees’ A Kiss in the Dreamhouse, offers another referential insight into the band’s stylistic touchstones. The devil really is in the details.

The vocals aren’t of the spiky punkier aspect of post-punk, eschewing the edgy styles of Siouxsie and Skeletal Family’s Anne-Marie Hurst and if anything, are more in the vein of Julianne Reagan in her rockier moments.

But the most significant thing here is that the ingredients are well-blended and folded in together around a decent tune with some sharp energy and a solid chorus, and none of it feels formulaic or ripped off. In short, ‘The Committee’ is in the ‘classic’ style, but with a strong identity of its own.

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20th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

It’s all been happening in the Eville camp since the release of their second single, ‘Messy’, back in June – and now they’ve been gathering advance airplay in spades for the follow-up, ‘Leech’. Again, produced by Jamie Sellers (best known for his work with the likes of Ed

Sheeran and Elton John), this offering sees them really step things up a few notches.

Whereas ‘Messy’ was grungy and melodic, ‘Leech’ is all fiery fury: the rapidfire clattering drumming and roaring guitars – and vocal howl – which kickstarts the song harks back to the point around the turn of the millennium, when Pitchshifter joined forces with Prodigy live guitarist Jim Davies to create a dance/industrial metal fusion and saw them find favour with the nu-metal crowd – and although their preferred reference points are more in the vein of Slipknot, for all the emotional rawness of the lyrics, there’s still a strong melodic edge to the vocals.

Eva Sheldrake has range, and a knack for delivering a hook, not to mention a monster riff, and in the company of Milo Hemsley (drums) and Billy Finneran (bass), the Brighton ‘brat-metal’ trio are a powerful unit. And as much as I’ve been digging the vogue for duos lately – a setup often born as much out of necessity as choice – and hearing how far it’s possible to push the most minimal format it’s possible to have and still be a band – there is something so classic about a trio. It’s because while maintaining all of the component parts, there has to be absolute focus, there’s no room for a weak element like an iffy rhythm guitarist, and no-one has anywhere to hide, but everyone has to deliver optimally. And when they do, the sum is greater than the parts.

“I hope listeners take as much from it as I did by relating through experience with inner

conflict and toxic situations that are hard to escape,” says Eva.

She certainly channels it, and hard, here. Eville are clearly no suckers, and ‘Leech’ is a killer tune that says this is a band with much promise.

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Blaggers Records – 19th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

True revolution will come when the workers own the means of production. This is something that’s emerged in music not through an uprising, but a thoroughly screwed-up state of affairs, but one that’s very much a result of a capital-driven model. Major labels, and a fair few indies, don’t exist for the artists: they exist for themselves, for their execs, for the machine, the mechanism which enables them to gouge maximum profit for themselves, the shareholders, the middlemen, hell, anyone in the chain. And, depressingly it looks like even Bandcamp could be going this way before long. Capitalism doesn’t give a shit about art: it cares only about money, and art is simply another commodity, provided it’s got mass appeal. And who generates the profit? The artist, of course. The model is the same in any capitalist structure: without call centre and admin staff, multinational corporations would simply have no business: even banks need staff to manage the money being poured into them (although retail customers get the least service because they may be many, but they’re just your average pleb on the street, so fuck them and their wanting local branches and stuff that eat into the profit margins). But the staff who essentially generate the wealth are at the bottom of the pile with the worst pay and the worst conditions.

Sure, some artists get rich, but how many Coldplays and Ed Sheerans are there in the scheme of things? And there has been a shift since the turn of the millennium. Massive advances – or any advance at all in many cases – are a thing of the past. But labels have always been behind the time, and the concept of A&R is a longstanding joke in that labels aren’t interested in finding the next movement as riding on the coattails of whatever’s breaking in order to milk it.

This latest offering from Kill, The Icon! marks something of a stylistic shift, at least superficially: less aggro and overtly confrontational, it’s also less guitar-orientated, built around a simple and unchanging synth loop. Nagging, earwormy, irritating… the repetition does become somewhat numbing after a while, but by the end off its three-and-a-half minute duration, you start to consider playing it again anyway.

Talking to me about the single, Nishant admitted ‘It’s really different and I expect will be polarizing in terms of content.’ He’s right on both counts, in that it’s not only a departure, but also likely to alienate a few fans and critics. But this is to the good: as I’ve written before, and will likely do so again in the future, you can’t please all of the people all of the time, and nor should you aim to do so. If you do, you’re Oasis or Ed Shearan. Punk is an attitude, not a style per se, punk is creating the music and art you believe in and not giving a fuck about the reception. Kill, The Icon! are punk, and this stylistic detour doesn’t see them budge an inch in their message or tame their fury for a second. Yes, true to their credo, Kill, The Icon are calling out institutional racism and general bullshit in society, and here, specifically, the music industry:

Average White Band / For the average white fan / Making average white music for the average white man

Joshi explains: “Mumford and Sons were the archetypal Average White Band. They had the son of a near-billionaire in their midst. And they made a career out of denying their privilege. They were bankrolled from the very start, and so they had a precious resource that’s not afforded to other bands: time. Most artists are told to play more shows, work harder, network harder. But that’s a huge lie that’s perpetuated by the music industry… Everyone involved in the music industry assures us that diversity, inclusion and equality are priorities – it’s written as much on the website of every festival, booking agent, manager, and record label. But the reality is an utter lie. We’re not all running the same race.”

One benefit of being a truly independent act is that the artistic control is not only retained by the artist, so is the scheduling. That means the pokes in ‘Average White Band’ are still contemporary, as Joshi calls it out:

“Once a band has been elevated, It’s fair to ask what they do with their new-found power: are they maintaining the status quo, or are they actively seeking change to make the music industry more equitable? The reality is that the music industry has been fantastic at improving diversity in indie music, but only to the extent that it champions female-led bands who approximate western beauty standards.”

Sitting on your chaise longue / Writing all your new songs / About cliches of cliches of cliches of cliches

It’s not a matter of sour grapes here: there’s no way Kill, The Icon! are jealous, or would want to be in the position of Wet Leg. But given the same elevated platform, Kill, The Icon! would be telling it like it is and making sure their message had maximum reach. But political bands don’t tend to get maximum reach, especially when they’re from minority backgrounds. Benefits are perhaps the most ‘real’ band with a broader reach right now – Sleaford Mods are simply too obvious are more about commentary than promoting change – but while they’re white, they’re too working class to be embraced beyond a certain demographic. In keeping it real, they’re not likely to get much radio airplay – or earn huge radio royalties – any time soon.

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Inverted Grim-Mill Recordings – 6th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Yes Grasshopper’s ‘Ghost Dog Pagoda’ is the lead single from the forthcoming album of the same name.

Grasshopper? Yes, grasshopper. Not cricket. While on a recent day trip to Berwick Upon Tweed, my daughter was asking about the sounds of the crickets or grasshoppers, and I had to confess I was unaware of the difference, and had to look up the main visual difference is the length of their antennae, and the main biological difference is how they make that distinctive sound.

While I’m still unsure if we were hearing crickets or grasshoppers, it’s clear that despite being in the north-east, we weren’t hearing Yes Grasshopper, as their most informative biography clarifies: ‘Grasshoppers are among what is possibly the most ancient living group of chewing herbivorous insects, dating back to the early Triassic period around 250 million years ago. Those species that make easily heard noises usually do so by rubbing a row of pegs on the hind legs against the forewings, this is known as stridulation. Yes grasshopper formed in 2020 and make noises with a guitar and some drums. Emerging from England’s unforgiving northern coast, this dynamic duo present a wholly unique take on noise rock, with crushing riffs, white water rhythmic twists and barking intertwined vocals making way for heinously catchy hooks.’

As titles go, ‘Ghost Dog Pagoda’ it’s simultaneously visual and abstract. As songs go, it’s absolutely mighty.

The single starts out with a tight picked guitarline, which nags away, before the bass and drums crash in, hard and with the kind of density that feels like a body blow. There’s a moment of pullback to build the tension further before POW!! Fuck!

This isn’t the sound of innocuous insects: it’s the sound of ground-razing devastation. The distorted vocals are way low in the mix, only adding to the impression of monster volume – those smallish gigs where the backline and guitars are so fucking loud the in-house PA simply cannot compete and so the vocals are lost but somehow cut through and the thrill is just beyond words because the sheer sonic impact is beyond words… If you’ve ever experienced this, you will know, and this is the blistering force of ‘Ghost Dog Pagoda’. If you haven’t experienced it, then you need to get out and witness more small-venue live music.

Back to the single, it’s a mess of noise, a full-tilt, all-out sonic assault. The hooks really come in the respite, where the nagging guitar returns, because the rest… it’s a brain-shredding attack. The vocals aren’t only low in the mix, but they’re a frenzied howl blanketed in distortion, and the song’s structure is a long way from a neat verse/chorus alternation. Fuck, it’s impossible to follow, and I have no idea what’s going on from one second to the next. But herein lies its sheer brilliance: ‘Ghost Dog Pagoda’ isn’t pretty, and makes no concession to commercialism or accessibility – not a single one. It hits you, hard, with a wall of abrasive noise, and it’s a beast alright.

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Forever Underdogs – 22nd September 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

I Got quite excited by Hull’s Bedsit on hearing their last release. Perhaps the summary in their bio explains it, more or less, in pitching the band as being of interest to fans of Basement, Nothing, Yuck, Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, and in next to no time, alongside my raving about them, they’ve come from nowhere (ok, Hull isn’t quite nowhere, but it works as a narrative) to airplay from Steve Lamaq and applause from Louder than War.

The joy of F.I.D.O. lies not only in its being a great tune, but from its gloriously lo-fi, crunchy sound. A twisty riff played almost tentatively by way of an intro is suddenly smacked along in a tidal wave of rhythm, bass, drums and it recreates the buzzing vibe of Dinosaur Jr on ‘Freak Scene’ or ‘Girl from Mars’ by Ash. It buzzes, it vibrates.

They’re pretty strident in their messaging here, and this is certainly no feel-good tune, as much as it’s a nihilistic howl that goes against the grain, and is certainly not a call of solidarity with their peers and contemporaries, It’s a shake, a slap, a sneer of derision that says ‘get a fucking grip!’

“F.I.D.O. is for the countless artists who labour to perfect their work, manifest their passions and achieve success, only to be left screaming into the void for years on end. It’s about the ridiculousness of dreams and the temptation of surrender. We’re made fools by our expectations of the music industry and the life of an artist, coaxed by visions of giants from a bygone era. The iconic rockstar is dead, or worse yet, duplicated posthumously in a vapid monetary mockery. It seems impossible nowadays for an independent artist to ever get heard, break out, be seen. When art is entwined with identity, emptiness can feel like death.

Why do we even try? Where does that spark come from, and is it at all worth trying to keep it alive? If an artist is neither seen nor heard, do they even make a sound?”

It’s a sentiment that not only do they fully espouse in their work, but one I can back to the absolute max. It’s not about the technicality, but the raw energy, and it’s right up and in your face, and then when the vocals come in against that welter of guitars, it’s absolutely fucking glorious. There are numerous references I just can’t call to mind, but there’s a dash of Therapy? and a pinch of Bilge Pump in there, and the refreshing thing about Bedsit is that while so many contemporary acts who bring that 90s vibe present sanitised, cleaned-up interpretations, Bedsit keep it raw, rough and ready – and in doing so properly capture the spirit of the era they’re so deeply rooted in.

F.I.D.O. is a massive, grungy monster. Driven by thick riffs and thumping percussion, the melodic and contrasting vocals land between Nirvana and MSP with aa hint of Fugazi as they melt grunge in a pot with post-punk and post-rock that maybe hits a spot in the region of Trail of Dead. But none of this really touches the rush and the squall.

The bottom line is that they’re bursting with energy, and they’re a band you can believe in. ‘F.I.D.O.’ kicks all ways, and the amount of ass-kicking they packing they pack into four minutes and twenty seconds is incredible.

The single comes backed with ‘Click Track’, a frenzied thrashing furry that’s pure and brimming with passion.

Feel the force.

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