Although post-punk’s originators came to prominence some forty years ago, the technology that enabled them to do what they did has advanced far beyond anything imaginable at the time. Through effect developer Death By Audio, purveyor of pedals with names like “Absolute Destruction,” Read more…
Listening to Will Haven’s latest feels like discovering some vast, alien, rusty undersea structure. The sheer pressure Muerte puts your eardrums under is incredible.
Time has clearly not softened Will Haven Read more…
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The average band doesn’t make it past their first album. Sometimes the sophomore slump hits hard, sinking careers as that difficult second long-player either never gets released, or just blows instead of blowing up. Rarely, you’re talking three to four albums – but you’re talking really rarely.
Keeping the flame burning after ten albums is an impressive feat – and with Distortland, The Dandy Warhols have hit an all but unbelievable career landmark.
Distortland is one of The Dandy Warhols’ most focussed albums Read more…
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You are lying in a field. It’s sunny. Everything is happy. Good. Nice. Yay.
Suddenly, black clouds obscure the sun. Drum-thunder rumbles for a second or so.
Then the hail begins.
Freezing, harsh, relentless. Bullet-like balls of ice fall from the sky, their journey ended only by the soft flesh of your face. You flail frantically, your hands tugging your hoodie’s hood over your head as you get up and run. Head down, eyes Read more…
Heavy music is often dismissed as bring brutish and blockheaded. Sometimes, that’s fair enough. A Dark Orbit, however, are fiercely intelligent.
That extra cognitive capacity lends a sense of near-bottomlessness to Inverted. It’s the sonic equivalent of doing this:
I’m about to sound like Yoda, but for the faint-hearted, this is not. Weighing in at 15 tracks totalling well over an hour of sludgy subterranean grooves, bleak and Read more…
If your day is getting to you, listening to The Breakers could go one of two ways:
1) Heck’s beyond-insane mathcore-or-noise-or-whatever onslaught helps you release all that tension and frustration, as you headbang your way into a blissfully ecstatic semi-transcendent state…or
2) It just gives you a headache, resulting in you taking all the painkillers and maybe weeping from the trauma.
Either way, at least some kind of Read more…
Secret Black Boyfriend are more than an odd name. They’re an odd band, with a hard-to-categorise sound. For most of their second album, they sound like Reuben jamming with Rage Against The Machine’s rhythm section – only to throw a massive curveball on final track Hepatinnitus, where bleak, noise-ridden math-punk is the order of the day.
This album will have you scratching your head while rocking out – so do it in public at your peril.
Opening track Baby Shooter hits hard with raw, incensed lyrics addressing domestic violence – and seventh cut High Fives Save Lives hits the same mark with one of the best riffs of the lot and words directed at Read more…
Last year, I described Alright The Captain’s Contact Fix as suitable for those whose evening plans involve “chugging absinthe, spinning round in circles until you fall over or puke or both, repeating the above until you pass out, and then waking up and putting on your coat and going to work”.
Today, I still stand by those words. Here, ATC discuss their upcoming set at ArcTanGent, taking in surprise gingerness, fire-breathers, and a hint at what they’d be doing if the music ever stopped…
You’re set to hit ArcTanGent 2015 this week. How’re you feeling about it?
Excited as fuck! Marty’s been running round like a spring lamb since last year.
What’s the best thing about festivals for you?
They’re a good chance to escape reality for a while and Read more…
Prepare to have your brain done in. Selectric specialise in flat-out fucked jazz fusion / post-rock à la the now-defunct Acoustic Ladyland – and if you can make it through Serfin’ USA‘s incomprehensible opening barrage, you can make it through anything. Rudnick’s Magic Recorder is as nutty as its title suggests, if not more so, while Read more…
Fuck Suzuki. Their cars are crap. My formerly faithful four-wheeler failed at completing a function even more basic than going forwards, and refused to even start. While Throatpunch City were getting through their set, I was pretty much doing this:
One train journey later, and Parachute For Gordo were, as always, goddamn incredible. Few instrumental post-rock bands infuse their music with Read more…