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Terrible Love – Doubt Mines EP


terrible-love-doubtBand: Terrible Love
EP: Doubt Mines
Label: Big Scary Monsters
Release date: 19 January 2018
Sounds like: Emotional hardcore wreckage

Remember when I wasn’t sure which members of loads of post-hardcore bands were in Terrible Love? Well, I still don’t, apart from possibly Gareth Davies who used to hit the bass strings in Funeral For A Friend. Anyway, line up changes to the TL roster have meant there’s a new set of lungs on the microphone in the form of a fella called Jack Saunders. With this second EP, Terrible Love continue the tension and gloom-laden, stripped back attack their debut EP, Change Nothing had. The mixture of stark, pummeling aggression, married with the more atmospheric moments on this new EP, Doubt Mines, add depth to their strained and ravenous soundscapes.

Opening track First Flowers begins with some sullen guitar strumming, leading into a morose bass-led thump of grim feelings that continue this morbid tone through this scathing hardcore strut. The snapping, isolated blasts of each instrument rip through alongside Saunders’ rasping vocals, as bass, drums and guitar punctuate with a strained earnestness to be heard. On the scorched attack of Burn The Fields, there’s a Jeremy Bolm-feel to the screeching vocals, whilst musically it romps home with the agitated discordance of La Dispute destroying their instruments and tossing them into a huge monument of roaring flame. The dense and scratching tension bleeds through on Doubt Mines; it’s either in your face at once – or not there at all. One minute your being gripped by the throat and hurled around the place, the next your slumped on the ground trying to figure out what the hell has just happened.

Part of me feels Separate Graves could be a love song in a sense. The chorus of “I’ll hope and I’d pray/You’ll lay beside me/In a separate grave” which I initially took as fairly venomous, is oddly full of longing sentiment and has that neck-chill bristle of a gang-vocal participation. This strongly reminds me of some of the greatest moments from Wes Eisold’s American Nightmare (so that’s every single moment then) both musically and lyrically deep. Yeah, this has all the feels, even with the weird feedback-strewn outro of tripping noise whacked on at the end.

Launching itself from a stack of speakers, Doubt Mines is a guitar-windmill of hot-headed old-school hardcore; it thrashes, smashes and bashes through all the checkpoints without slowing down at all. “So I will always sing/Those songs that I have always sung/And cherish memories that they bring” roars Saunders, content to punch us all in our hearts. A Better Light follows a similar grim-faced punk rock onslaught; taunt, bullish, pit-worthy hardcore that feels both encompassing and brotherly, as well as intimidating and rejecting, much like everything about Terrible Love’s savage and emotionally raw output.

Fans of modern, wrought and scathing post-hardcore will find some absolute gold on this 5 tracker – Terrible Love’s Doubt Mines is a cracking second EP and showcases some great song writing by this London mob – excellent work.

Listen to Doubt Mines below and download for pay as you want. 12″ Vinyl available from Big Scary Monsters.

Links

Terrible Love Facebook
Terrible Love Twitter
Terrible Love Bandcamp

 

Lizard Hips

Lizard Hips

Junior Vice President of Keep It Fast. In other news: I work in social media, talk about dinosaurs, run a book club and have amazing facial hair. I am also a male man who is still not dead.

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Chiller – S/T


662da180-581e-49f5-a50c-63486d8b5db9Band: Chiller
Album: S/T
Label: Rockstar Records / Dirt Cult
Release date: 2 February 2018
Sounds like: darkwave emotive punk left out in the rain.

There is a weird coldness to Chiller‘s sound, making their moniker surprisingly apt. Featuring member’s of Feral Trash, Black Tower and Mother’s Children this Canadian four-piece are a somewhat of a super-group in the deep underground of the punk rock world. A film-noir cloak envelops Chiller; from their quirky, irregular sound, to the sinister simplicity of their album cover and logo – which brings to mind a Jo Nesbo book about someone who cuts off people’s hands and probably sews them together, or something equally weird (note: I’ve not read any).

The off-kilter indie-punk jangle of opener, Agony, has a haunting 90s-style melancholy to it. Especially on the crooning, chest-pounding chorus, where the dual-vocal overlap is used to terrific effect and will go on to feature on the remaining 7 tracks that make up this self-titled effort. The call and return male/female vocals on the Son of Sam Heretic should be enough to touch your heart, especially the frantic and grasping way the track’s title is spat in the song’s thrashing coda. The guitars chime and belt out a crisp, sometimes buzzing racket and it fizzes with determination and raw feeling. The pacy Offred, launches itself forward through a twisting and teasing grunge-indie bounce, with the back and forth vocals, which seem to reference a lost spirit or an apparition. Like many of the tracks on offer, there is a pensive and solemn tone hidden beneath the breakneck three-chord attack. The spaghetti-western style intro on the noir-sounding Satisfied is superb and evolves into this snotty, brackish tune, that berates the listener for swallowing lies and ultimately, accepting desertion.

The emo-rock of the solitary Strangers changes pace for a bit – vocals drip with desperate loss, radiating this forlorn longing, cries of never-ending pain all backed by this gloom-drenched, fast-paced Alkaline Trio maudlin punk. The chorus is also absolutely huge, cries of “STRANGERS! STRANGERS!” is so deliciously pained (and catchy) it sounds as though he could have fallen off the soundtrack of a certain 80s inspired sci-fi show that’s pretty popular at the moment. Crank it to 11.

Absolutely absorbed by the glowing, Cold Cave gloom on the dramatic Unanswered – Someone tell me, why? WHHHHYYYYY???” roars from Chiller’s mournful lungs, coupled with some beautiful backing vocal “woohs” concluding with a flourish of rain-drop-sounding keys within this wistful and heavyhearted scrawl of chewy, post-punk spite. Don’t be fooled by the high-noon-esque intro to closing track, The Void – the 20 seconds of wistful guitar strokes are trampled under hooves by a stampede of rapid fire punk rock. Lip-curling vocal snarls, crunching chords and bruising percussion thunders past in a breathless, scrappy exhaustion of sound.

Chiller’s debut is rough around the edges, but that’s what gives it that certain charm. Through these 8 tracks and 24 minutes they incorporate enough styles, menace, aggression, loss and love to pique your interest. A promising and sharp-sounding debut.

Stream Agony below. Chiller’s self-titled album is released on 2 February through Rockstar Records, pre-order it here.

Links

Chiller
Rockstar Records

Lizard Hips

Lizard Hips

Junior Vice President of Keep It Fast. In other news: I work in social media, talk about dinosaurs, run a book club and have amazing facial hair. I am also a male man who is still not dead.

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Berlin Industrial Noise act Operant announce ‘Harnessed To Flesh’ EP


Fresh off of their ‘Sibling Lovers’ tour with Kollaps, Berlin industrial noise act OPERANT have announced their upcoming ‘Harnessed To Flesh’ EP due out on local imprint Instruments of Discipline February 12th, 2018.

The intimate five track ep was written by August Skipper and IOD label owner Luna Vassarotti with additional mixing and production by Joey Blush of Blush Response, encapsulates Operant’s live performance which melds power-electronics, industrial techno, and dark ambience.

OPERANT LIVE

The new EP is an evolution in soundscapes and textures, that through it’s chaos has strong narrative cohesion evokes a sonic euphoria though several planes of techno, industrial, and noise with abstract and emotive uses of metals, vocals, samples, synths, contact mics, and more beautifully unnerving constructs of sound.

Watch the preview for the EP below

 

 



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Lizard Hips – Top 10 albums of 2017


Weird year for stuff, some of it bad some of it excellent. My top 2 will not surprise some people and it’s mostly business as usual. Some returning bands – The Bronx have absolutely excelled themselves on the new one – USA Nails might not be in the giddy heights of their first two records, but their new one is as brutal and horrific as ever and it’s a simple fact that there’s been some exceptional albums. Some truly outstanding work all round though and even albums hat didn’t make the top ten (sorry Pissed Jeans, you’re in at 11…) were stonking great. Enjoy.

10. Onsind – We Wilt, We Bloom (Specialist Subject)onsind-wwwb

A somewhat late inclusion, but this third album from Durham’s Onsind has made a massive impact on me in just a short space of time. Raw, brutally honest and some incredible lyrics throughout, We Wilt, We Bloom is a moving, cynical and cutting statement, heavily referencing our current see-sawing political climate of bullshit and misery. However, it’s laced with hope, with a direction that states we can do something, that there is time for change and better days are on the horizon. Listen to the lyrics on the brilliant Shining-referencing Sectioned – superb, thoughtful and reflective storytelling locked down into a four minute pop-punk banger.

Top track: Sectioned

9. USA Nails – Shame Spiral (Bigoût Records / Hominid Sounds)usanails-shame

Hello nasty. Noise and speed are two words to sum up Shame Spiral, the third album from London teeth-grinders, USA Nails. This is an ugly, boiling cauldron of rage; the guitars are overclocked to the max, especially on the acidic bedlam of Play It Again Johnny and the shredding Does Format Matter? It’s got that scrawled, caustic quality of the first METZ album – utterly savage, loud, volatile and seriously uncomfortable to experience. Every track feels as though it has been submerged in a barrel of noxious feedback and it howls with implacable tension and serves to move the band further from their debut, Sonic Moist. Chilling and strangely intriguing. (Review)

Top track: Does Format Matter?

8. Christian Fitness – Slap Bass Hunks (Prescriptions)a0968992665_10

Slap Bass Hunks is apparently the least successful Christian Fitness album, which is a shame because it is fucking brilliant. For one thing, the bass sounds utterly gnarled/ugly/disgustingly noisy. Also, some of Falco’s best work exists on this excellent 10 tracker, from the vomiting-fury of the title track, to the vest-appraising National Insurance, an Anglican mouse on the handclap frenzy of Hallowed Be Thy Naming Rights and the dread-inducing creep of Nobody Likes a Snitch. Just under 30 minutes of pure surrealism that will leave you either laughing your head off or whimpering in the corner and we should all be thankful for it. (Review)

Top track: Slap Bass Hunks

7. The Bronx – V (Cooking Vinyl)a2581068749_10

THIS AIN’T NO SOBER SONG, KILL ME OR TURN ME ON!” screams Matt Caughthran on opening track, Night Drop At The Glue Factory. Yes, so The Bronx have always been a bit word salad at times with lyrics, but Bronx V, sees them crunch back into the punk rock scene with a cracking selection of fresh cuts. Fill The Tanks is a pure thrash excellence, whilst the abrasive Sore Throat, is a vein-bursting roar for blood. Here’s hoping they keep up the wrecking machine of energy and vitality forever with their fire-starting vigour and fucking brilliant songs. (Review)

Top track: Stranger Danger

6. ’68 – Two Parts Viper (Cooking Vinyl)two-parts-viper-68

Every song by ’68 sounds as if it’s been pushed to its very limit. All the dials are spiking into the red, alarms are blasting, blood is spurting from the console. Meltdown achieved. Josh Scogin and (now-ex) drummer Michael McClellan attack their instruments with the similar “throw it in” bravado of their debut, but the amps don’t explode this time; the riffs though, are still there and it’s still uncomfortably discordant, channelling Scogin’s Nirvana worship even more (see No Apologies) and the rap-rock swagger of This Life Is Old, Borrowed and Blue. Utterly unique and constantly evolving, Two Parts Viper is a venomous beast. (Review)

Top track: Whether Terrified or Unafraid

5. Mutoid Man – War Moans (Sargent House)mutoid-man-war

Nick Cageao’s Mutoid Man might be the greatest band of all time. I mean, he’s got Stephen Brodsky and Ben FUCKING Koller in tow. War Moans doesn’t so much as tick all the boxes as smash several guitars through walls and walls of amps to make its point. This album is hilarious; it’s packed with the most ridiculous, cheesy, heavy, thrash-tastic riffs imaginable, the sickest drumming courtesy of Koller and it is infectiously joyful and an unstoppable thrill ride from the face-punch of the start to the haunting end. There’s no way you can finish even the first track without air-guitar/bass/drumming your arms off. If you thought Bleeder was good, get a load of this baby. (Review)

Top track: Irons In The Fire

4. John – God Speed In The National Limit (Pets Care Records)john-godspeed

You could be forgiven for thinking there were double or even triple the amount of band members in Crystal Palace duo John, such is the absolute racket they both make. God Speed In The National Limit is a brutally fast, concentrated and bludgeoning rush and it makes no bones about being anything else, other than a fucking great punk rock album. There’s everything on this – songs about haunted printers, the shitness of everyday life and resetting your mobile phone. Probably. Whatever it is, this is an absolute killer of a debut album and I bloody love it. (Review)

Top track: Straight Lines

3. Single Mothers – Our Pleasure (Big Scary Monsters)singlemothers-our-pleasure

Whatever happened to Single Mothers?” screams vocalist Drew Thomson on Our Pleasure, the second album from the “pissed at everything” Canadian four piece. With the kind of rapid-fire vocal delivery (and disdain) akin to that of Jason Williamson from Sleaford Mods; Single Mothers are a free-flow nuisance of seething, bile-spitting obnoxious punk rock debauchery. This churns, boils and rages at everything, especially on the pocket-digging bravado of Long Distance to the hardcore fury of Well Wisher.  Cracking sophomore album that vents with urgent, wild energy and will ultimately make you want to smash things and oddly, has a lot of heart if you delve into Thomson’s thoughtful and compelling lyrics.

Top track: Long Distance

2. Japandroids – Near To The Wild Heart Of Life (Anti-)japandroids1

An album that you keep returning to must ring some alarm bells in your mind. Near To The Wild Heart Of Life by Japandroids was released at the tail-end of January, yet it’s something I am constantly listening to, over and over and over again. Is it down to how beautifully all 8 of the songs on this are crafted? Is it the fact it fills me with unrelenting happiness and optimism? Is it the fact it makes me want to shout every single lyric at the top of my lungs? Is it the fact it makes me so fucking emotional every time I listen to it? It’s all of these things and a heap more, loaded with the all the real feels and sweaty, melancholic emotional nostalgia. (Review)

Top track: Arc of Bar

1. Blanck Mass – World Eater (Sacred Bones)blanckmass

The fact that World Eater seems to have endless layers the more you listen to it shows just how staggeringly inventive Blanck Mass (aka, Benjamin John Power) is as a musician. It’s a hypnotic, mind-melt of emotions, ranging from fear, serenity, hate and even joy. I’ve struggled at times not to go a week, sometimes a day without putting this on – without being lost in the industrial-rave-death-dance party of Rhesus Negative or the trippy percussion-driven club bounce of Silent Treatment. This is the sound of ripping through the fabric of our dimension and becoming totally submerged in the deadlights. Beep, beep, Benny – a phenomenal and hypnotic, mesmeric trip into the void and my album of the year, hands down. (Review)

Top track: Please

Other great stuff from this year you should stick in your ears.

Alpha Male Tea Party – Health

Bat Piss – Rest In Piss

Cassels – Epithet

Converge – The Dusk In Us

Death From Above – Outrage! Is Now

Frauen – Unreal City

Gallops – Bronze Mystic

Goddamned Animals – My Second Cult Suicide

Gnarwolves – Outsiders

Idles – Brutalism

Intervals – The Way Forward

Jamie Lenman – Devolver

Krause – 2am Thoughts

Mastodon – Emperor Of Sand

Metz – Strange Peace

Part Chimp – IV

Perturbator – New Model

Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs – Feed The Rats

Pissed Jeans – Why Love Now

Pulled Apart By Horses – The Haze

Run The Jewels – RTJ3

Sleaford Mods – London Tapas

Slotface – Try Not To Freak Out

Sorority Noise – You’re Not As _ As You Think

Stnnng – Veterans of Pleasure

Tricot – 3

The Jimmy Cake – Tough Love

The Menzingers – After The Party

UpCDownC – I, Awake

Unsane – Sterilize

Yagow – Yagow

Yards – Excitation Thresholds

Additional

Science Fiction by Brand New didn’t make the cut this year for obvious reasons. Would it have done in other circumstances? Yes, it would easily be top 5 material, perhaps higher. It’s their best album as well. There, I said it. However, to give the band any kind of accolade this year is not something I am not comfortable with doing at all. Thank you.

Lizard Hips

Lizard Hips

Junior Vice President of Keep It Fast. In other news: I work in social media, talk about dinosaurs, run a book club and have amazing facial hair. I am also a male man who is still not dead.

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Catalan! – Alive


image1You may remember back in the sunny days of July, we had a feature and interview with a certain Mr Ewen Friers, aka Catalan! talking all about the creation of the project, hopes for the future, collaborations and whether he’s a Dr Ian Malcolm or David Levinson kind of guy.

Well, Ewen (or Catalan!) is back with a new single, the energetically named Alive. I love the squelching keyboard opening to this and when the cowbell kicks in. It’s the opening two lines that get me though – the layered vocal delivery of “Another worse Hot Water Music/A million more Menzingersers” seems to be having a cheeky pop at all those bands who employ the gruff-ramshackle punk aesthetic, but feels ever-so-tongue-in-cheek.  Throughout Alive, there is this bass-heavy fuzz; it feels very Death From Above in places, that similar, infectious dance-punk groove, and boy does this act as an itch – that chorus will worm its way into your brain before you know what’s happening.

It’s a proper fist-pumper of a track – that light pop-rock bounce, those Metric-esque synth-lines and that huge, skyscraper of a chorus leaves you wanting more. With Axis Of currently dormant at the moment, this is certainly a project that has legs and fans of the aforementioned Portstewart lads, will absolutely love this. Cracking work – stream Alive by Catalan! below.

Links

Catalan Twitter

Lizard Hips

Lizard Hips

Junior Vice President of Keep It Fast. In other news: I work in social media, talk about dinosaurs, run a book club and have amazing facial hair. I am also a male man who is still not dead.

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THANK – Sexghost Hellscape


thank-sexghostBand: Thank
EP: Sexghost Hellscape
Label: Cruel Nature Records
Release date: 26 October
Sounds like: Nothing. Everything. Something. Clive Barker mystery portal of doom.

Read a book they said. Well, I read a book and didn’t much like what I learned.

Imagine if Girl Band swapped their instruments for chainsaws, jackhammers and a cement mixer that’s been set on fire. You would be somewhere in the vicinity of what Thank are constructing as music, but ultimately you’re barely scratching the surface. This is the dimension of hell splitting open in front of you. This is a Hieronymus Bosch painting in musical form that’s started to melt into a sickening puddle of smoldering wax, wires and decay. Subjecting yourself for more than 20 minutes of this will send you fucking insane. Boiling, bubbling, mutated flesh, that’s where we’re coming from. I feel sick.

Thank are a five piece from Leeds and Sexghost Hellscape, is their debut EP. Recorded live and I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less; at one point you can hear the keyboard unfolding itself out of the speakers, popping and crackling with surges of electronic disarray and headache-inducing thunder.

Instruments merge into each other, are flattened, then expand, exploding into view, before crunching back into tight balls of quivering energy, before splitting open again. None more so than the acerbic and spitting opener of Taxidermist. The BBC-B Micro-tape-loading intro synth lines give it an already sinister vibe, not to be mention the scuzzy bass, which makes way for the splatter-punk vocals, which are a drunken and sporadic drawl of nonchalance that triggers into snapping tirades of distaste.

You were born to work, pay bills and die – anyone else who says otherwise is a fucking hippy” drawls Thank’s vocalist on the buzzsaw rambling of Fragile Ego. Life is fucking futile and why should we bother seems to be the motto. The guitars sound like a bunch of power tools – the drums are a cymbal heavy pounding of despair and it’s attacked with the kind of raw, scraping chaos of Girl Band splitting themselves apart. Even Thank’s vocalist sounds a bit like Dara Kiely in places, (which is never a bad thing) but it’s those guitars and synths – the mash up is this unholy, mesmeric, howling vortex of ear-wrecking, animalistic roars.

There’s an essence of uncomfortable unpredictability about Thank, in that – thinking a song will go one way will ultimate mean it will spiral off into a corkscrew of crackling energy into something entirely different. Take the bonkers electro-build up of squelching keyboards and rattling militant percussion of Punching Bag. It builds and builds and builds through this never-ending skyscraper of jagged noise, teasing and tantalizing, before suddenly, these words break through:

Tonight Matthew I am nothing and I am okay with that. Tonight Matthew I will shit in my own hands and clap.

Wait, what? Getting more incensed with rage, Thank’s vocalist changes from a comical drawl to an enraged snarl, especially as the devious synth-lines plow back into view. “IT SOUNDED SO APPEALING!” he chants through this vomit-inducing turbulence of warped, destructive dance-tinged noise.

There’s a Blacklisters vibe surrounding the stocky aggro-punk throwdown of Thank The Universe – it’s an alienating caterwaul of throbbing bass punches and mangled guitar lines. The large ham squeals of “THAAAANNK YOU! THAAANNK YOU!” are not for the faint-hearted. The final track drags itself into view in the form of the 8 minute descent into hell that is Petrol Head. The sinister drum crashes, humming keyboards, despair-inducing lyrics and cries to “honk if your horny” just go to show the kind of derangement we’re dealing with here. Soon the words “The only reason we’re all safe, is because no-one here wants to die” will slowly start to set your teeth on edge, make sweat run down your spine and soon barely become words – they meld into this wailing, gnashing and erratic bedlam of feedback.

On Sexghost Hellscape songs aren’t really created, they merely breakthrough a portal into our world, emerging from the Upside Down, covered in slime and begin to take shape. Any of the tracks on this could soundtrack a horror film. The whole thing could BE a fucking horror film for all we know. I wish there was more, although I’m unsure my mind/ears could take it. To put it into perspective, imagine the first time you heard the Blood Brothers – THAT level of excitement.

You can stream/purchase Sexghost Hellscape by Thank below. Also, it’s name your price on bandcamp, so chuck them a few quid so they can continue to create this mind-bending excellence.

Links

THANK
Cruel Nature Records
Crue Nature Records Bandcamp

 

 

Lizard Hips

Lizard Hips

Junior Vice President of Keep It Fast. In other news: I work in social media, talk about dinosaurs, run a book club and have amazing facial hair. I am also a male man who is still not dead.

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Unhuman premieres ‘Absurdity, Privilege Of Men’ | Liber Null & Potnia Theron’s Absolute’ featuring Drew McDowall of Coil


Berlin-based electronic artist Unhuman is premiering today his latest track Absurdity, Privilege Of Men, a disconcerting cacophony of noise accentuated by the graphic cover art on the EP containing the track—Devour Wrath Without Shame—which depicts a visceral demonstration of castration that is indeed not for the faint of heart.

Here is the official description of the EP courtesy of the label Instruments of Discipline:

Devour Wrath Without Shame sees Unhuman return to his original vision of dystopic noise, a pure, uncut vision of our darkest times, alive nightmares, everything we despise, unwanted and disconcerting, the rotting core of a concrete dimension.”

The song’s premiere heralds an Unhuman dj gig at Berlin Electronic music event Liber Null and 
Potnia Theron’s  Absolute on Thursday, November 16th, featuring Drew McDowall, Alessandro Adriani, Sekunde, and Nullam Rem Natam.

See Full details below. 

‘Absolute’


Thursday 16th of November 2017 at Arena Club
One year after their first amalgamation – Liber Null and Potnia Theron have a very special reason
to merge their powers again and present a thrilling event.

Line up:

  • Drew McDowall | live | COIL / Psychic TV I
  • Alessandro Adriani I Mannequin (Label + Mailorder) / Jealous God |
  • Unhuman B2B Sekunde I Liber Null Berlin – Fleisch I
  • Nullam Rem Natam – Action

With great honor Liber Null invites Drew McDowall for a live performance as part of his current european tour. Presenting his new album by building his hypnotising sounds, he will guide the audience
through his mystical and esoteric journey reflecting shades of the past.
A great impact and huge influence as part of CoilDrew McDowall will leave his mark in history of Liber Null.

Time to worship.

Alessandro Adriani, owner of Mannequin Records, will open the night with a special experimental set focused between memories and obsessions.

Unhuman – resident and founder of Liber Null together with Sekunde from Fleisch are on closing duties, uniting their darkest sounds. Nullam Rem Natam in search of spirals and serpents, will create and destroy their exegesis of absolute truth.

Drew McDowall

During the tumultuous 1980’s, Drew McDowall found himself in the ranks of Genesis P-Orridge’s Psychic TV collective and collaborating with the arcane occult duo comprised of former Throbbing Gristle creator Peter ‘Sleazy’ Christopherson and the enigmatic John Balance who had been creating esoteric and progressive electronic music under the banner of Coil. It was during these formative collaborations with Coil that McDowall saw himself shift from occasional contributor to austere full-time member. McDowall’s impact on the band’s sound was immediate, and apparent, as the releases transformed from their previous avant-pop signature to a more complex and methodic electronic imprint accompanied by even more abstruse subject matter and abstract formulations than previous years. McDowell was instrumental in the creation of Time Machines, one of the most influential drone works of the last 20 years and would continue honing his compositional skills with Coil until the bands two most lauded albums, “Astral Disaster” and “Music to Play in the Dark” at which point he left the project and his native home to relocate to the United States.

For the last 17 years Drew McDowall has lived in New York City and found a welcoming home in the city’s experimental music community. In 2011, alongside his friend and collaborator, Tres Warren (Psychic Ills), McDowall found himself exploring his passion for meditative drone and abstract sound patterns in their project Compound Eye. He has collaborated with Croatian Amor, Varg, Puce Mary, Marshstepper and many others. Outside of his collaborative duties, McDowall formed an audience as a solo artist, playing countless performances and showcases around New York’s electronic music venues and festivals.

Drew McDowall released his debut solo album entitled “Collapse” on Dais Records in September 2015 and has subsequently toured the United States and Europe.

With Unnatural Channel, released on Dais Records in May 2017, using his signature ambient ebb and flow coupled with patterns of fibrous metallic waveforms and reverberated percussions that have been pulled and spun around the spectrum he continues to dissect subterranean themes and explore how to comprehend and subsequently engage with the contemporary world that emerges from the disintegration of various mental, physical, and emotional terrain.

Unhuman b2b Sekunde

Unhuman was founded as a noise project in 2012 in Athens with the release of his first tape, entitled Emperor Black on Species Productions and then a split tape with To The Lovers Farewell on Red Venice Records. Delving deeper into radical noise, experimental and industrial music, a whole new world of possibilities opened up to him when he moved to Berlin in 2012. After founding the Lärm-Alarm-Lärm festival, he combined the idea of underground music and more experiential events going onto organize workshops which encompassed experimental & interactive audio/visual performances in a project space called Shift which led to his current project Liber Null Berlin which unifies the freedom of arts in a conceptual event and a record label. With his DJ-project he has performed alongside renowned artists such as Ascion, D Carbone, Eschaton, James Ruskin, Luke Slater, Makaton, Substance aka Dj Pete, Tomohiko Sagae, Truss, Ugandan Methods, Violet Poison. At the moment, Unhuman tours in venues all around Europe and Asia and is a regular act in many of the major Berlin clubs. He was resident Dj in the city of Paris for two years and now days he is resident artist at Constant Value Seoul. He released on labels such as Veleno Viola, Monolith Records, Amok Tapes and Instruments Of Discipline.

+

Sekunde is a project, based in Berlin, that has been part of the Fleisch collective since its inception.

Playing a mix of Industrial, EBM, post-punk, and synth wave, he blends these genres together seamlessly into his own world suited for dark basements and strobe light funerals.

Alessandro Adriani

Born and raised in Roma, Italy and now living in Berlin, Alessandro Adriani is the brain behind Mannequin Records, an outlet that since 2008 has done arguably more than any other to unearth obscure synth wave and industrial music from all over the world. Aside from his work in releasing forgotten gems and up to the minute synth incantations, Alessandro Adriani has also been quietly issuing out his own music for labels like Mannequin, Pinkman and Jealous God. Previously active as Newclear Waves, he developed lately an interest for remixes/edits, including “the rarest disco fruit from the Caribbean-via-Berlin: Mannequin Records’ Alessandro Adriani rolls up a smoking edit of Lata Ramasar’s exulting/exulted proto-house bubbler The Greatest Name That Lives.”

Alessandro is the resident dj and organizer of the bi-monthly Mannequin Records Nacht at Säule/Berghain.

Nullam Rem Natam

No thing born. An emphatic idiom for nothing.

 



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JOHN – God Speed In The National Limit


Band: JOHN
Album: God Speed In The National Limit
Label: Pets Care Records
Release date: Out now
Sounds like: Turbo noise rock action destruction and haunted printers.

Being able to find stuff is overrated anyway. JOHN (comprised of John on drums  and vocals and John on guitar) are, I’m guessing, more deadpan than a churchyard full of deceased cooking pots. They know the joke and are sticking with it and why should they crack a face to please you? Well, quite. Hailing from Crystal Palace in that London, this duo of wailing guitars, sledgehammer drums and gruff vocals is a heady and destructive concoction.

Let’s get to the point; God Speed In The National Limit is a fucking brutal album from start to finish. It just about breaks the 20 minute mark over its 7 tracks, but that’s not a problem; because it means you can put it on again. Similar to the warped and misshapen punk rock of Idles (Brutalism is a banger), the noisy cacophony of Fucked Up and the direct bluntness of USA Nails, JOHN are a crunching powerhouse of rollicking good fun.

Similar to the first METZ album, it’s the drums that stand out on this – they’re at the forefront, bristling with boiling, consuming energy and none more so than on the punk rock fervor of opening track, Balfron. Jagged and covered in spikes, this growling rumble is a raucous battle-cry. Drummer-John has a vicious set of pipes; his vocal chords bark a caustic diatribe, akin to that of a one Father Damian, whilst guitar-John chucks out noisy, angular riffs that slice and rip through the airwaves. It’s punishingly fast and mouth-frothing in intensity.

God Speed In The National Limit is an enormous heart of an album beating at an unhealthy and dangerous speed…

The buzzing snap of Factory Settings is beyond crushing – the feral guitars rip and chew, whilst the screams of “a return to factory settings” and the absurd fury surrounding this lengthy diatribe (possibly about mobile phones) is an absolute monster of a track. Haunted office equipment follows in hot pursuit in the form of Ghost Printer, as a man explains how he believes his Hewlett-Packard is possessed by a spirit. Legit, the only song you’ll hear this year (or ever) about a haunted printer. At least you have a chance to catch your breath on this one – this inclusion of the subtle keyboard is a nice touch, and we’re at 50% speed now, but we’re still angry, because anger is what we’ve got. “No sense of logic, no sense of sense…” roars drummer-John, clearly struggling to work out why Slimer is trying to change his ink cartridge.

Big fan of the lyrics on the scathing bile of Industrial Action:  “Keep your chin up and keep your shirt on and throw money down the throats of machines as entertainment” which seem to be both faint praise and mocking disbelief at shithead consumers.  I really hope the lyrics on the chorus for the abrasive Squad Vowels are “THIS IS SHIT” because it just about sums up all the feelings we sometimes have about nostalgia and fucking everything really. Credit to guitar-John for making his instrument howl with complete contempt and absolutely crush everything in its path with chunky riff after chunky riff.

You can feel the spittle from drummer-John hit you in the face through the speakers during the muscular Straight Lines, which keeps the tongue-in-cheek lyrics raining down, partially through the line: “Local man found lost in his head.” The delivery is near-beyond seething, (think Pissed Jeans anger) both vocally and through the howling sounds from guitar-John, who strangles ugly chords from his six-string, like he’s trying to end a life.

Drummer-John’s vocal chords on the title track are now so raw and scratched, he sounds like 2 trucks full of sandpaper crashing into each other. The guitars are fuzzy as hell, even dabbling in a moment of melody (seriously, they sound fantastic) whilst the tight and sweaty-sounding drums keep everything together – just about.

God Speed In The National Limit makes me want to rip myself in half, crush beer cans into my skull, throw a kettle over a pub. It’s an enormous heart of an album beating at an unhealthy and dangerous speed, veins bulging in every direction. A total rhythmic acceleration of unsafe, teeth-gnashing, sweating energy. Embrace this noise, it’s far, far too excellent to be ignored.

Buy/stream/lose your mess to JOHN below.

Links

JOHN Facebook
Pets Care Records



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The Bronx – V


a2581068749_10Band: The Bronx
Album: V
Label: Cooking Vinyl
Release date: Out now
Sounds like: The Bronx, duh. 

FREEZE FRAME, COCAINE- NOTHING’S EVER GONNA KILL THE PAIN!

If one photo summed up The Bronx, it’s in underlay card on this, their fifth album. It shows vocalist and professional “bear impersonating a man” Matt Caughthran, standing in the middle of a circle pit, microphone in hand, ready to scream some immortal and terrifying word to signal the rest of his band to collapse this ring of people in on itself. The best part, is that there’s a fella who looks like Thor having the time of his life right next to him. That’s their environment though, it’s a live show, it’s a maddening rush of crunching chords, anvil exploding drums and the aforementioned deranged bear of a man screaming in your face about “a false alarm” or “being a hero, not a criminal.

Contender for album opener of the year smacks you over the head with the turbo-charged scrabble of Night Drop At The Glue Factory. This howls from the speakers like a ghost train on fire, belching spirits, zombies, werewolves and all kinds of horror in every direction. The lead guitar buzzes like a swarm of furious bees, whilst Caughthran screams the words “NEW YEAR, NEW ME! JUST WAIT, YOU’LL SEE” possibly indicating the rebirth of the band and giving a strong middle finger to their detractors (if any possibly exist). The riffs are ferocious and barbed, David Hidalgo Jr’s drums destroy, whilst Caughthran’s vocals are a blood-spurting eruption of brutally honest fun and filthy chaos.

The bass grumble of Brad Magers’ four string opens the scathing Stranger Danger and soon hips will be shaking and hearts will be ripped from chests. This Son of Sam referencing menace of a track is edged with darkness, but also odd flashes of light. My favourite moments might be midway through where you can hear Caughthran chuckle, the brilliant line “I’M A KILLER, LET ME BE WHO I AM!” and the one-note-piano-Kvelertak-esque bit that makes me think of the epic Blodtorst. Best punk song of the year barely scratches the surface of beginning to describe it.

The mood shifts somewhat with the brooding Side Effects – a track that best exemplifies Caughthran’s chameleon vocal chords. Yes, the man can scream himself bloody hoarse, but he can also tug at the heart strings as well. This fuzz-rock slam of contemplative and fizzling heartland-esque sound is a different side to The Bronx, tapping in on elements of material from IV and having some deeper more personal turmoil with either drugs (hello first album!) or even loss. In either way, it’s a track that feels incredibly personable, but so damn catchy, you’ll be scratching at it for weeks.  The strangled thrash intro of Fill The Tanks is the collective clearing of several scorched throats, whilst the rasps of “NOWHERE TO HIDE/IF YOU’RE GONNA SURVIVE!” are brutally guttural and very Keith Buckley at his most aggressively arrogant. This destroys everything in its path – vintage Bronx, neck-snapping-pissed off brutality, you can feel the heat from the amps on this and smell the sweat dripping down the walls.

The swagger of the cocky classic-rock styling of Channel Islands is bizarrely so not the Bronx, yet they execute it with flair and such hard, driving passion. It sounds like something the hero would be listening to at the end of a road movie as they cruise off into the sunset. Likewise, the strutting rock ‘n roll bounce of Two Birds, is ridiculously catchy and bursts with bravado. Even the guitar solo (yep) is so cocksure and bursting with power, it ripples and pummels the airwaves with infectious abandonment.

When I first heard lead single Sore Throat it was an absolute roundhouse; it tore apart the soundwaves. The screams from Caughthran are blood-curdling, the pace, a vomiting fire of destruction. Hidalgo hits the drums as if he’s about to burst straight through his kit, whilst the guitars twist and contort through this gnarled punk rock splatter, not to mention the rapid fire vocals, which are spat with such urgency and acidic nonchalance. This is why I often regard them as the Black Flag of our generation.

The bittersweet Past Away, is perhaps a letter to a a deceased friend (“you were here/now you’re gone/how are we just supposed to move on?“) states Caughthran, over this scuzzy garage-punk, completed by some excellent backing vocal chants. This album is full of ridiculous slogans though – “I WANNA SET SOMETHING ON FIRE!” opens the swirling The Hives-esque fuzz of Cordless Kids, whilst the vibrant punk rock splatter of Broken Arrow, contains the refrain “ACCESS THE NUCLEAR CODES!” like some demented megalomaniac overlord. Kingsize rounds off the album in a melodic Jimmy Eat World sugar-filled way, with the kind of chorus that rips through the sky, layered guitars that melt into each other, raining down pop-rock riffs for everyone to absorb. It’s an oddly beautiful closer (for them) and some of their best work to date.

This consistency of this band is staggering though. Five albums with this wrecking machine persona and they still sound as determined, noisy and pissed off as they did in 2003 when the Gilby Clarke “three takes that’s it” produced battering ram of a debut appeared. Bronx V is a feeling of some magnificent return – it’s an anthemic, acerbic celebration of unrelenting ecstatic fun and scathing, pulsating energy. Welcome back the beat that kills.

Links

The Bronx
The Bronx Facebook
Cooking Vinyl

Lizard Hips

Lizard Hips

Junior Vice President of Keep It Fast. In other news: I work in social media, talk about dinosaurs, run a book club and have amazing facial hair. I am also a male man who is still not dead.

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