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viewing 1 To 25 of 31 items
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LP
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DRUNKEN 142LP
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$25.00
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RELEASE DATE: 12/3/2021
"You ever wonder what Keith Morris does at the end of the day? Does he maintain that wide-eyed stare, the one that pins audiences to the floor with its very intensity, while he's putting on his pyjamas? Does he continue spitting venom from that heroically ragged throat of his while he's making his cocoa? Does he lay his head on his pillow with the same righteous fury that launched thousands upon thousands of moshpits? Hey, I'm just wondering. Y'see, all that intensity and venom and fury? it has to go somewhere while he's otherwise occupied with mundane tasks like taking off his socks or brushing his teeth, right? And listening to the thrilling racket conjured up by Vancouver's Chain Whip, you'd be forgiven for thinking that they have somehow become vessels for that energy. I mean, they're Morris' spiritual successors -- if their 2019 debut 14 Lashes wasn't enough of a clue, then this six-song blast of blink-and-you'll-miss-it brilliance should leave you in no doubt. This is hardcore punk as it was originally conceived, and it slays. 'But who are Chain Whip?' I hear you ask. Well, they're a bunch of dudes from British Columbia who've also served time in bands like The Jolts, Fashionism and Corner Boys (among others). They're the ones who are gonna have you slashing the seats at your local cinema, or taking potshots at lines of empty bottles on street corners, cuz they make you feel so damn tuff. OK, I'm just goofing around here -- whereas Chain Whip are serious business. No, really. I dare you to listen to the Germs-go-nuclear b(')last of 'Laguna Bleach', or the garage-slop-at-200-mph rush of 'Fresh Paint And Philanthropy', and not want to launch a stink bomb into your teacher's car. Or, failing that, to bring about the extinction of global capitalism. If that fails, you'll just end up wearing out the grooves of this very fine six-song EP while bouncing between walls like the DRI logo guy if he wore jet heels and spring-loaded shoulder pads. Jeez, imagine Keith finishing the night shift and giving these guys a handover. As if they'd even need to be told. Look, Chain Whip are the best straight-up old-skool punk band you'll hear today. You know what to do. Trust your instincts. Dance that two-step to hell with 'em. This. Is. The. Shit." --Will Fitzpatrick
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DRUNKEN 138LP
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$23.50
PREORDER
RELEASE DATE: 10/1/2021
After numerous releases on Drunken Sailor, Total Punk, Neck Chop, then teaming up with The Beta Blockers for his last full release (DRUNKEN 120LP, 2020), Erik Nervous is back, this time on his own. Originally released on cassette in 2020, finally out now on vinyl. He might be on his own but damn, you wouldn't know it, right from the total punk of the opening track "Our Hungry Fruit" there is no let up. Erik still has the classic midwest punk Devo influence, but with a "new-new wave" sound that's been coming out of California and Saint Louis. Distorted, frantic, utterly aware of punk/hardcore/post-punk/whatever's past and its limitations, but determined to find the lesser-explored gaps that lie between and make them his own. Erik still sprinkles his tunes with liberal doses of pop fairy dust. Buckle up, Bugs is the sound of the summer you didn't think you would get. Erik Nervous forever.
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DRUNKEN 140LP
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All caught up with last 2020's blast of herky-jerky darkness from Knowso? Don't get too comfy, now -- nine months later, they're back with another eight hits of visceral smarts and discombobulating fury. Sounding, as ever, like Big Black firing pellets of snot at their Cleveland forebears Devo, Rare Auld Trip/Psychological Garden finds them picking up where they left off with Specialtronics Green Vision (DRUNKEN 130LP). This being the best part of a year on from that excellent debut, though, they sound wiser, snarkier and more pissed off than ever before -- good news all round, then. Opener "Boredom In The Valley" reintroduces their signature tricks but feels more focused; a sub-two minute blast of staggered beats powered by the gnarliest-sounding bass this side of Bob Weston, and a disaffected vocal styling that you'd be tempted to call nihilist if you couldn't sense the number of fucks given beneath the impassive facade. They pick up the pace with "Staring At The Spiral", which almost sounds like the Buzzcocks unravelling at the seams while a Vogon watches on, before crashing into the smash'n'grab antics of "The Plants" -- one of the record's clear highlights and a frantic, dizzying trip. Along the way are enough bon mots and smartarse quips too make you wonder if they're taking this as seriously as they should. Let's not spoil the highlights in advance, but if you're already on board with Knowso, you'll know they're simultaneously utterly hilarious and unquestionably, deadly serious. "I could never be friends with a fucker such as you," they snarl disgustedly on another of the record's instant classics, but by this point you'll already have given your heart over to this most delirious of post-punk/noise-rock hybrids. As the closing cacophony of voices on "4th Wonder" will no doubt drive into your brain with overwhelming force, Rare Auld Trip/Psychological Garden (you pays your money and you takes your choice with the title, presumably) is not to be missed.
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DRUNKEN 141LP
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Imagine a world where The Saints held onto the raw-throated, full-throttle rock n' roll of their mighty first three albums. Where Radio Birdman are rightly held up as one of the all-time great bands. Where the Wipers never left the driving punk rock of Is This Real? behind for the post-kraut-psych-whatever of the (admittedly still totally ragin') Youth Of America, and simply kickstarted a revolution. That's the sort of reality where Jackson Reid Briggs & The Heaters would be best appreciated. Where driving rhythms, crunching power chords and the sound of a man howling "you're gonna get eaten alive" are the adrenaline-pumping soundtrack to the everyday. Where an album like Waiting In A Corner is heralded as a goddamn classic upon arrival, and worshipped as a vital instrument in setting souls on fire and lifting spirits everywhere. Where... aww, you get the idea. Because Melbourne-based Briggs and his thrillingly rambunctious collective have made one of those albums -- their fifth -- where all you can do is play it over and over, thrilling to the ordered chaos of songs like "Too Many Years" while swooning to the anthemic likes of "If You Only Knew". There are some types of music that Australia just does better. Garage? Punk? Yeah, something like that. Waiting In A Corner is the latest example, and holy fuck, it's an instant wonder. If only rock n' roll could always be this good.
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DRUNKEN 134LP
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"First things first -- you don't need me to tell you about the significance of Australia in the history of punk. I mean, what am I, Jon Savage? Google it yourself, FFS. Instead, let's just agree that the speedy, feral racket thrown together by the likes of The Saints, Radio Birdman and The Scientists in the mid-late '70s is at least as deliriously entertaining as anything concocted by their UK/US counterparts, sowing the seeds for seemingly endless garage-inflected noisemakers in the land down under. No one likes using words like 'tradition' or 'heritage' here -- the punk rock clusterbomb is far too messy for any of that business -- but also emerging from Australian rock's primordial soup is the addictive sneer of Stiff Richards. Like their predecessors, the band are a gleefully wracked mess of full throttle energy and barreling power chords, with songs like 'Kids Out On The Grass' and 'Point of You' proving at least the equal of '(I'm) Stranded' or 'Aloha Steve And Danno'. Nine tracks in less than 30 minutes, all winners and all determined to leave you flipping over couches and smashing your TV set. And let's face it, you may as well; there's nothing good on. It all builds towards frantic closer 'Fill In The Blanks', which rattles around your speakers like the UK Subs trying to play Ed Kuepper riffs at the center of an earthquake, before grinding to a halt as a voice says, 'That's the one.' Does it sound self-satisfied? Hey, it's got good reason to -- this is the best no-frills garage rock party since Gino & The Goons' Do The Get Around, and the only appropriate response is to declare yourself betrothed to Stiff Richards because you can't imagine your life without 'em. Don't believe me? Sort out your ears and get 'State Of Mind' in 'em. Rock'n'roll as it's supposed to be played." --Will Fitzpatrick
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DRUNKEN 137LP
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$23.00
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RELEASE DATE: 6/11/2021
"Perhaps you, like me, have listened to Bauhaus and Killing Joke and thought, 'Well, this is great, but I wish it was a bit more of a rager.' Similarly, maybe you listened to The Effigies and Samhain before musing to yourself, 'Cool, although I thought it'd be darker.' In other words, it's occurred to you that deathrock could be a tad deathier and - if it's not too distasteful of me to say so - rock a hell of a lot harder. Step forward, Altar of Eden. The project of Austin, TX resident Albert Limones (whose bruising sounds you may have heard in the shadowy likes of Nosferatu and Creamers), it's an unholy marriage of Big Black's mechanistic rhythms and the serrated, atmospheric noise of yer favorite early '80s 4AD types. Tracks like 'The Abandonment' absolutely lay waste to your speakers -- it opens with a harrowing shriek before throbs of chorusing bass and guitar carve out their own unnerving paths. Somewhere in the distance, a menacing voice can be heard, buried in murk and distortion, with the song operating at breakneck pace and maximum volume -- hey, I think our criteria may have been met. Second track 'Tears' ups the ante, leaning heavily on atmospheric gloom while pushing the drum machine to the fore, like Clan of Xymox setting up traps for the Slenderman, before the lacerating strafes of guitar on 'Eternity' invite the nightmares to truly begin. And that's just the first three songs -- by the time 'Death in the Country' gallops to a beautifully discordant end, we're well and truly bewitched by this wonderful, horrible noise. The Grotto Screams was originally released on cassette in April of last year, before finally getting this well-deserved vinyl pressing -- one of the first truly essential releases of 2021. Don't miss out." --Will Fitzpatrick
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DRUNKEN 136LP
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$23.00
PREORDER
RELEASE DATE: 6/11/2021
Reuben Sawyer is nothing if not prolific. He's also a man of many talents -- his various projects have included the cold wave sounds of The Column, Hollow Sunshine's blown-out psych-noise, Anytime Cowboy's take on countrified weirdo-pop, and even ambient house courtesy of Rose. Oh, and he's a visual artist too, of course. Pfft, who needs an attention span anyway? One thing he's also dabbled in, however, is post-punk. Human Trophy is firmly in line with that tradition, but pulling from multiple directions at once -- the twisting guitar lines and pummeling bass of "Forming Horrors" even call to mind his blackened punk project Dry Insides, but with less velocity and a helluva lot more menace. Is Corpse Dream a goth record? Possibly. Whether goth is a lifestyle choice for Sawyer or not, he's certainly adept at immersing himself in sounds and making them feel like a comfortable fit. As with all his projects, it feels like another effortless facet of Reuben Sawyer -- and in keeping with the rest of his output, it's absolutely packed with songs you'll wanna play again and again. Penultimate track "The Roads" is built on a none-more gloomy pile-up of darkly portentous rhythms and a firm sense of disquiet, but once you're locked into its circular riffage you'll feel an urge to keep the loop going endlessly. Then there's the closer "Blood Apex", a dual-vocal nightmare set to music which draws you back in even as it attempts to push you away.
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DRUNKEN 139LP
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$23.00
PREORDER
RELEASE DATE: 6/11/2021
Drawing influence from the looser end of the Ork Records catalog, the sensitive side of Ohio's proto-punk scene and the grittiest and most sluggish tangent of '70s power pop, Itchy Self's debut 12" is an exploration of fully formed songs treated with spontaneous delivery. The group got together in early 2020 for three practices and a recording session and here are the results, laid out in their raw form. This is cross-generational racket n roll music that wears its heart on its loose-y goosey sleeve. "B What You B" is a life affirming testament to living against the grain that calls to mind the Modern Lovers aggressive positivity. Title track "Here's The Rub" is a barrage of abstract lyrics and skronky shred. "God Bless the Ego" is an ode to the looseness and blurry eyed lucidity of indie rock's forbearers such as Chilton, Kilgour, Pollard, and Malkmus. "Reprobate" is a Stones style ballad that channels the Saints and Johnny Thunders in equal measures. "Playing MTV" is an audacious end remark to the record, that rips on classic Velvets strut and testifies its own ridiculous merit through boastful and catty lyrics. All in all, of course, it's only rock n' roll. This record is one-part follow-up to the Protruders Poison Future 12" on Feel It Records (2019) and one-part the first chapter of a new and exciting group formed in Canada's capital of de-professionalized rock music. Recorded to ¼-inch tape by Scott Munro (Preoccupations) and mastered by Mikey Young (Total Control), this record should provide a concise opening statement to anyone with the least bit of concern about Itchy Self.
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DRUNKEN 132LP
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$23.00
PREORDER
RELEASE DATE: 6/11/2021
A year characterized by a pandemic, lockdowns, political ineptitude and oh, so much staying the fuck at home is enough to make anyone want to blow off a little steam. One overused piece of glib idiocy at the start of the Trump era was "at least punk will be good", as though punk can only be good when it flips the bird to right-wing, authoritarian shit-headery rather than amplifying anything else. Sure, there've been plenty of great records over the last four years, but sometimes (across the whole of 2020, for instance) the levels of anger, fear and frustration can be overwhelming and you need a little space to goof around. For some of us, though, goofing around is serious business -- and here's a record to illustrate that perfectly. Smirk is the solo project of Public Eye's Nick Vicario, and while you'll hear similarities to his main outfit across these 12 excellent tracks (from the off, you can imagine how PE might refine garage-carved nuggets like "S Construction"), here there's less sang-froid and more... well, fun. The reference points you might expect are still there (Killed By Death comps and Wire, especially their '80s period, to name a couple), but with added scuzz and something even approaching joy -- the whirling synths of "Eyes Conversing" feel ominous, but they also convey a sense of delirious excitement. And dammit, it's all fucking cool too. With a name like Smirk, your first instinct might well be to wonder whether Vicario is laughing at us. The first line of the album (a defiant "it's not funny") should tell you that this isn't the case, but the album certainly finds him in playful mood. The tasteful acoustic instrumental "Lude 2" descends deliberately into farce as it speeds up and slows down like a turntable alternating speeds, or a record warping in real time.
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7"
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DRUNKEN 135EP
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$10.00
PREORDER
RELEASE DATE: 6/11/2021
"Killer rock n roll from Detroit, scuzzed-up punk following on from their debut records on Jack White's Third Man Records. We're all familiar with 'Seven Minutes in Heaven', right? It's some sort of weird kissing game that cinema informs me was played by the cool kids at parties. You know, the sort of normie party you weren't invited to, leaving you to sit at home, listening to the Misfits and scrawling Dead Kennedys logos over any and every available surface. Where are those kids now? Dunno, doing some boring job, I guess. Whatever. 'Seven Minutes in Heaven' is also a pretty apt description of the new EP by Detroit punx The Stools -- the four songs that make up Feelin' Fine are over before you've had chance to blink, but hot damn, they're good. They call themselves a 'bluesy punk trio', and fair enough -- like their hometown forebears the MC5, they take the raw tools of rock'n'roll and dial up the speed, the intensity and the fury, resulting in a record that commands your attention, your adrenaline and your utter devotion. Like their 2018 album Q-Nails, Feelin' Fine sashays in with a loose-hipped swagger and an audible commitment to getting your feet flying every which way, but this time they've had a relatively hi-fi makeover -- opener 'Can't Feel Good' is yer classic show-opener, going from a flurry of chords and cymbal wash into an ear-catching riff and bone-crunching rhythm section. Like X's 'Los Angeles' as played by speed-addled 20-stone wrestlers, it mesmerizes as much as it pulverizes, while the joyously dumb 'Rockpile' might well be the most aggressive tribute to Nick Lowe's old band. Or maybe not; it's hard to make out the lyrics while I'm bouncing off the walls. Punkest use of slide guitar since The Gun Club? Sure, why not... It slays, I can tell you that much. All you really need to know is that The Stools rule, and you need this record." --Will Fitzpatrick
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LP
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DRUNKEN 069LP
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$23.00
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RELEASE DATE: 5/21/2021
"Thought you'd missed out on the chance to scoop up one of the best punk albums of 2017? Luckily for you, here's another opportunity -- the debut album from Dallas's own Slimy Member is back in print. That first pressing evaporated from stores almost as soon as it was released by Drunken Sailor . . . You know the sound already; a meaner-than-thou blast of ominous power chords and lowdown menace with nods to Rudimentary Peni (obviously), Die Kreuzen and the seething rush of early Saccharine Trust. That title, meanwhile, recalls The Cramps while there are even hints of The Misfits and their horror punk brethren -- not least in Cesar Perez's compelling growl, which alternates between a cathartic croon and conjuring images of someone gargling broken glass in an echo chamber. Either way, it sounds fucking great. With an endless stream of punk bands throwing back to the 1980s and somehow getting it very wrong indeed, you'd be forgiven for reading this dumbass precis and thinking, 'So fucking what?' But trust me: this record more than holds its own with the bands it draws influence from. It's a howl from the gutter set to music that makes you want to pile up your belongings and set fire to them while bricking the windows of your local Conservative Club. Alternatively, it's WAY existential and it fucking slays. Am I swearing too much? I can't fucking help it. I fucking love this record. Don't let yourself miss out for a second time." --Will Fitzpatrick
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LP
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DRUNKEN 114LP
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Gino and the Goons are back. Led by Gino Bambino, the Goons play rowdy punk rock that holds up its pint to the Ramones, Chuck Berry, Willie Nelson, Nervous Eaters, and Motorhead. It sounds like being in the middle of a really tense house party. Ten songs to dance, drink, fight, and breakdown to. With records on Slovenly, Total Punk, Red Lounge, etc, Drunken Sailor release their 4th (5th??!!) long player. "This, my friends, is the rock n' roll you never stopped believing in! If these songs don't move you to dance, shout in delight, get feisty with your significant other, and perhaps break some minor laws, you are surely beyond helping. No existing band has a better grasp on how to create punk rock n' roll music that ticks every imaginable box."
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DRUNKEN 116LP
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Everyone's favorite herky-jerky Nottingham noiseniks Slumb Party return to blow minds once more. Maybe it's time you polished all the hard surfaces in your house and strapped on your dancing shoes, cuz once this one lands on your stereo you're gonna be pulling shapes and bouncing from the floor to the walls and back again. Last time round their influences were clear: James Chance, Minutemen, and Gang Of Four rose to the surface in a heady concoction of skronking, sax-drenched post-punk, and addictively wonky hooks. This time they're no less deliciously addictive, but the pop factor rides higher in the mix, at the cost of precisely none of their aching smarts or visceral thrill. A wheezing synth powers opener "Go To Work", with nods to the same heroes as before, but also a sense of Attractions-style power-pop appeal -- if XTC had ever attempted to refract pub rock through their angular prism while shouting "CAN YOU BUY ME A PINT", it might have felt something like this. Sound good?
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7"
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DRUNKEN 125EP
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"There's a parallel universe out there somewhere, one where Poison Idea's 'Pick Your King', Gang Green's 'Sold Out' and Negative Approach's 'Tied Down' are sacred texts and all art is merely an attempt to bow down and pay tribute to their holy genius. In this universe, Richmond, VA's Cement Shoes will be truly worshipped as the heroes they deserve to be -- this triple shot of hits is a perfect piece of punk in that lineage. 'Smashed on Glass' opens with a gloriously farty synth replicating the Universal Pictures movie fanfare, setting us up perfectly for the scraped-knuckle joy to follow. It's a two-minute thrill ride of high-speed aggression, bludgeoning guitars and vocals that sound like singer Trevor's larynx has been wrapped up in barbed wire, crushed with a steam roller and then coaxed back to life by vigorous brushing with wire wool. You know, all that fun stuff. It's followed by the brilliantly titled 'Knocked Into The Reptile Enclosure', which continues their sonic assault with gusto as Trev roars into life with a 'bababababa' that sounds like The Trashmen falling into a vat of toxic waste -- perfect for hollering back from beer-drunk mosh pits, or simply for turning up to maximum volume, annihilating all goodwill with your neighbors and earning yourself a tidy warning from The Man. But fuck that guy. By comparison, 'Going Off The Grid' is more restrained, but it's still wild as all hell, pulsating with menace and invention as guitarist Brandon leads the band down a series of dark roads, seemingly blind alleys and secret escape routes. It might just be the best song of the set, but shhh! Don't tell the others. The record is subtitled A Love Story Of Drugs & Rock & Roll & Drugs, which sounds straightforward enough. If you can pierce through the rollicking scree to find that story, you'll be screaming along at the walls for the rest of time. Either way, this is a great piece of old skool hardcore -- perfect for honing that tinnitus you've been working on all these years." --Will Fitzpatrick
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DRUNKEN 120LP
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Classic Midwest punk Devo influence, but with a "new-new wave" sound that's been coming out of California and Saint Louis. If you heard Erik Nervous's mighty 2018 collection Assorted Anxieties, you probably thought you had his sound pegged. Bruce Gilbert power chords, rickety garage skronk, and a willful primitivism that starts with a drum machine and ends with a heroically scuffed approach to melody -- it all adds up to something pretty irresistible, of course, but what if there was more to come? This time Erik's joined by The Beta Blockers, and the sound they concoct together is utterly magical. OK, when this self-titled LP comes rattling out of the gate with 90-second barnstormer "Violent Dreams", you may suspect it's just an amplified version of the old stuff, albeit with full band, but trust me: you ain't seen nuthin' yet. "Gravure" sees 'em tinkering with an angular skronk-funk that tilts an ear towards yer Minutemen, yer Bogsheds, yer Andy Gills (while ensuring both feet are firmly cemented to as many dumbass hardcore punk records as possible). The thoroughly unexpected "Blasted Heath" brings synths to the foreground in masterly fashion, while the mutant dub of "Want To Not Wanna" feels like a dust-up in a muddy puddle with an ashen-faced Pere Ubu. It's still recognizably the work of Erik Hart (for that is his true name), only distorted and further frayed at the edges. It's the sort of snappily smart sidestep you wish more bands would be willing to take, while remaining within touching distance from their roots. Best of all, it places the Michigan-based wonder alongside fellow punk explorers like Uranium Club; utterly aware of punk/hardcore/post-punk/whatever's past and its limitations, but determined to find the lesser-explored gaps that lie between and make them his own. Make no mistake, this is a mighty record.
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DRUNKEN 117LP
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"You'd think Jake Robertson would already have his hands full playing in the likes of Ausmuteants, Leather Towel, School Damage, Drug Sweat, et al. But no, evidently there's always time for one more thoroughly wracked project, and Alien Nosejob's focus is as kaleidoscopically scattershot as you'd expect from a man with such a short attention span. Just to confirm: yes, that's a good thing. From the off, we glide through the Coneheads-style Devocore of 'Television Sets' before romping through the jangling lo-fi pop of 'Weight Of The World', which skips and mopes while making like The Clean setting light to their parents' carpet with a magnifying glass. There's also charmingly scruffy soul-pop, chugging sci-fi slop-punk, straight-up college rock balladry and much, much more. But these aren't sketches or tossed-off genre exercises. They're bona fide works of consummate skill that resonate sincerely and effortlessly. Essentially, each song sounds like a challenge to the one that follows, a cry of 'step the fuck up'; Suddenly Everything Is Twice As Loud is a treasure trove of mini-masterpieces. Rough as fuck mini-masterpieces, sure, recorded with a cheap drum machine and guitars that sound like rusty drills cutting through power cables, but mini-masterpieces nonetheless. When venerable doyens of the pop establishment make albums of such eclectic scope and genuine songwriting talent, they get called geniuses. When punk-as-fuck wiseguys like Robertson pull it off, words like 'maverick' get tossed around. Rest assured, his Alien Nosejob project covers both angles. This second album is an instant classic that deserves to be heard far beyond the underground -- but if it isn't, who cares? He's probably playing in another seven bands already by the time you read this. I've not heard them yet either, but I can tell you they're all fucking amazing. Just buy this record and join the cult." --Will Fitzpatrick
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DRUNKEN 119LP
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"'You only get worse,' goes the first line on Dark Thoughts' third album, but while they might be correct about your personal decline, this West Philly trio are quite evidently better than ever. Hot on the heels of 2018's At Work LP -- 18 months later, to be precise -- this new collection sees the band at their willfully-dumb-but-smarter-than-u best, knocking out Ramonescore nuggets of the purest gold as if their lives depended on it. Whether imploring you to 'listen to the radio' or simply 'please don't leave me alone', Jim Shomo's voice remains the perfect balance of snot-drenched sneer and wounded croon, while the band lock into their fast'n'furious groove to frame his lovelorn melodies with the correct amount of muscle, and maybe they'll even pour a few beers directly into their amps while they're at it. Sure, they retain the sound that powered those first two albums, but they know what they're doing -- if it ain't broke, don't fix it; if you're broke, write a 90-second punk banger about it with an irresistible melody and play it as loud as possible. As if to prove that fact, synth-splashed closer 'Must Be Nice' shows they might even have written their best cut yet. Getting back to that first song, 'Hesitate', Shomo goes on to say: 'I've seen the future / It looks so much brighter than it used to.' On the basis of Must Be Nice, it's difficult to argue with that assessment: this is the perfect synthesis of pop and punk and a welcome reminder that your '70s heroes just wanted to recreate the unforgettable 45s they heard on the radio as kids. The 12 songs here may be destined for your turntable rather than the wireless, but you'll treasure 'em every bit as much. Another classic from a band that just doesn't know how to stop writing 'em -- Dark Thoughts forever." --Will Fitzpatrick
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DRUNKEN 111LP
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Debut LP from this Chicago band that is a new iteration of Broken Prayer. If you were a fan of Broken Prayer, it's hard to imagine how you wouldn't be on board with Droids Blood since they rely on a similar combination of noisy hardcore and whirring synth topped with Scott Plant's trademark topical lyrics and distinctive vocals. Since 2016, Plant has been fronting Droids Blood, whose lineup also includes Broken Prayer drummer Nick Donahue. On Be Free, they vary the tempos more and even add some borderline poppy hooks, but there's also lots of grimy, slightly industrial synth gunk, and bass murk -- "Unreality" sounds deranged in the best possible way.
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DRUNKEN 113LP
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Let's take a journey into the world of The Mind. You'd probably classify this as "post-punk", if only because that's the only bracket into which they (very loosely) fit. Basslines pulse robotically while guitars splutter discordantly across sheets of static and electronic drums; like dub music shorn of its Caribbean groove and reinvented by retro-futuristic robots, hellbent on kicking out some brain-busting skronk while they wait for Skynet to take over. Opener "Blah Bla Nothin" weighs in like Pere Ubu staring at the chasm between Dub Housing (1978) and Lady From Shanghai (2013) before drowning in hiss, and "Enjoy Your Fantasy" is the soundtrack to This Mortal Coil's nightmares, powered by the distant sound of rolling drums and a fuzzy tension that bristles the hairs on the back of your neck while leaving you thoroughly unsettled. Elsewhere, studio trickery and a dystopian sci-fi gloom hang over the whole thing like dust on a lampshade -- basically it's all over the place. They're as idiosyncratic and thoroughly in tune with their own voice as the early days of Throwing Muses; throwing their glorious chaos at the wall and allowing its own order to settle.
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DRUNKEN 115LP
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Incredible third LP from Iggy Pop's favorite Canadian power-pop garage punkers, Booji Boys, with 15 songs of melodic scuzzed-up pop. Tube Reducer follows 2017's double whammy of their self-titled debut and its gnarlier-than-thou follow-up Weekend Rocker (2017). And guess what? It's more of the good stuff. In fact, it could well be their best record so far. Sonically, you should know what to expect by now -- a disregard for fidelity; songs that sound way more effortlessly simple than they necessarily are; melodies that'll burrow their way into your head even as you fight through the fuzz to make out what the hell vocalist Alex Mitchell is actually singing... "Stevie Cool" is the bona fide winner this time -- the scuzzed-out power-pop anthem to end all scuzzed-out power-pop anthems -- but there's not a bad cut on offer here. "Nothing Good" blazes by in a fit of nail-biting energy and hooks so razor-sharp you could use 'em to cut through sheet metal, and if you've not donned your pogo-ing shoes to throw yourself between the walls of your house when "Life As A Fed" kicks in... well shit, man, do you even punk rock? By the utterly batshit closer "Moto-Hard" they've even thrown a brass section into the mix, skronking away cheerily and deliriously like Flipper's "Sex Bomb" running the wrong way up an escalator.
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DRUNKEN 112LP
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The Beginning & End Of Cereal Killer is Cereal Killer's first full-length album to date and also their last release since 2016's Demo's EP. The album was recorded over six weeks of tracking in the famous Geelong studios, The Barracks, before calling upon mastermind Mikey Young to sail his yacht across the bay and put his much-practiced mixing techniques into full effect -- the result is mind-blowing. Cereal Killer gained worldwide success in 2016 after their headline performances at Glastonbury and Coachella festivals where they blew away adoring fans and reached international stardom.
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DRUNKEN 109LP
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Heterofobia coming out of Northern Mexico, Monterrey to be exact. Their name says it all, if you are wondering what their lyrics are about! This band is a part of the new crops of amazing bands coming out of Mexico ready to say "fuck you, we are queer, pink and punk and not going anywhere". Frustrated with homophobic culture right now, the music is a grey goth and hardcore. Daniel's vocals (Cremalleras) are acidic screams contrasted with some killer guitar riffs that have a dirty garage sound yet keeping a strong dark cold punk feel to them. The rest of the band merges itself with Mexican po sounds from the '90s and the Madrileno wave for measure. Features a cover of La Uvi's "Ya Esta Bien".
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DRUNKEN 107EP
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What's that you say? "The punk album of 2019"? Ahhh, c'mon man, it's way too early for grand statements like that. What, you think you can make this claim? Just because Vancouver trio Corner Boys have managed to mesh the finest elements of Good Vibrations heroes like Rudi, Protex, and (sure) The Undertones with the buzzsaw power-pop of their city forefathers, the Pointed Sticks? Just because songs like "(I'm Such A) Mess" flow so effortlessly into your consciousness that you'll start wondering how your brain ever functioned without 'em? Hell, just because this might just be a perfectly-executed example of the sort of spiky, addictively essential treat you started to wonder if you would ever hear again? Waiting For 2020 follows a duo of excellent singles -- 2017's Just Don't Care and 2018's Love Tourist -- and it doesn't just pick up where they left off, it does what you always hope the follow-up to an opening salvo will do. It takes the promise they set forth and does way more than merely deliver on it, instead providing us with hook after hook and pogo-worthy pop classic after pogo-worthy pop classic.
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DRUNKEN 104LP
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Not content with pouring their bleak urgency all over the trials and tribulations of modern existence with 2017 LP Gestalt, Negative Space return with a seven-song slab of brutalist post-punk -- and it's another triumph. Seething with fury, it almost (but not quite) masks its venomously-spat lyrical content behind angular basslines that Steve Hanley would've been proud to call his own and guitar chords that teeter and totter between the blunt force of Black Flag and the dissonant crunch of Gang of Four. This is no easy ride; it's music that wraps itself up in peril before clawing its way out and stomping on whatever's left. With song titles like "Theft Utopia" and "Performative", you know what you're getting -- a pointed railing against those who hide behind hypocrisy and illusion, while the monochrome glare of the music makes it clear that none of this is to be fucked with. At times it even sounds like they've been caught up in the textured smoosh of Sonic Youth's Washing Machine (1995), with guitars exploding into senses-crushing fog even as the mechanical clank of the rhythm section continues its relentless, insistent pounding.
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DRUNKEN 103LP
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Following on from 2015's mighty debut The Good Never Comes, No Negative's The Last Offices LP takes the Montreal quartet's penchant for raw, ragged noise, and lobs it into a drum of molten steel, before fashioning the cooling results into something truly formidable. First off, this is very audibly (and thrillingly) a punk rock record. You can hear the metal fascination that drove Black Flag down ever-heavier routes in the '80s, but also echoes of the explorative, spacey psych of Hawkwind and the pointed mind-fuckery of the Butthole Surfers at their most crushingly bleak. Hell, even the expansive kraut-punk spirit of John Dwyer's Oh Sees can be found here, albeit buried under the sheer force of something that is unmistakably hardcore. "Your planet has been swallowed by a black hole... you can no longer taste or smell or see," they claim on the ferociously bad trip of "Transmission From The Black Hole:, and that's an accurate reflection of what it feels like to listen to this band operating at full pelt. They're smart, they're harrowing and they're totally kick-ass. They're the sound of a generation-wide existential crisis, making anthems for anyone who knows the only way through the mess of 2019 is to surrender your brain to the healing powers of the riff and just watch everything evaporate.
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