The press release from Brutal Panda Records for the debut album from US trio Nomad Stones suggests that their “punk-infused blast of rock n’ roll sounds like Dinosaur Jr. meets Black Flag.” It is a description which it is hard to dismiss though throughout the eight-track encounter with the New England band we could not help thinking this is what The Dickies might have sounded like if they had slowed down, got grungy, and embraced the raw rock ‘n’ roll of Johnny Thunders. Numerous times the punk pop mischief of the LA punksters is encroached within the Nomad Stones album but always infused into their bubblegumless and fiercely rousing punk ‘n’ roll.
Formed in 2015, Nomad Stones consists of guitarist/vocalist Adam McGrath (Cave In, Zozobra, Clouds), drummer JR Conners (Cave In, Doomriders, ex-Goatsnake, etc.), and bassist Erik Szyska. With already shows under their belts alongside Mutoid Man, United Nations and numerous others, the threesome has certainly stirred intrigue and attention, and easy to hear why now their first release is spreading its ferocious yet contagious temptation.
Wrapped in the art work of Converge’s Jacob Bannon, the album opens up with Dead Batteries. Firmly punching beats set things off, grumbling riffs soon in tow as McGrath shares his vocal prowess in a virulent stroll mixing the punk of The Damned with the dirtier scent of Dinosaur JR and the dark growl of Misfits. It is a rousing and compelling start, a spirit and appetite sparking beginning reinforced by the following stomp of Dirty Boots and A Friend Named Goo. With swinging rhythms and mischievous hooks entangled in another scuzzy antagonistic snarl of a sound, the song brings seventies punk into the visceral infectiousness of modern punk ‘n’ roll, hitting the sweet spot within seconds and only reinforcing its persuasion as distorted guitar enterprise plays.
Drain Brain comes next bringing a monotone nagging of the senses as riffs groan and shimmer while vocals add their singular but magnetic coaxing. Grungy and again old school punk seeded, the song grumbles and transfixes before The Frugal Yankee strides in and inspires that Dickies reference. Previous songs hinted but the fourth track especially recalls a sterner and heavier take on the Leonard Graves Phillips, Stan Lee, and Chuck Wagon led band, whether by coincidence or just in our ears.
A slower prowl comes with Glory Days next, its slow but eager crawl thick with emotive and rhythmic shadows adding another creative shade to the EP and an intriguing proposition for ears and imagination to embrace. Carrying a bit of Fugazi in its character, the excellent encounter steps aside for a rousing version of the Buddy Holly classic, Heartbeat. Just beefing it up gives the track a fresh lure but Nomad Stones also add fiery melodies and even more aggressive nagging to its riffery to leave ears greedy and pleasure rife.
The rowdy air and intent of In Too Deep ensures satisfaction is full next too, the song without the same spark as its predecessors for personal tastes still only leaving a want for more which closing track, The Sandwich Police provides as again, much like the last song, Nomad Stones venture into the epidemic strains of pop punk united with the threat of Black Flag/Converge scented confrontation.
The track is an outstanding end to an excellent introduction to Nomad Stones. There is buzz rising around the band and we can only add to it as raw and punk infused rock ‘n’ roll does not come much more enjoyable than this.
The Nomad Stones EP is out now via Brutal Panda Records @ http://nomadstones.bandcamp.com/
https://www.facebook.com/Nomad-Stones-564184443733217/
Pete RingMaster 02/09/2016
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
The second song is a much more lively and volatile proposal from its first breath. The guitar spins a web of scathing riffs and enticing grooves around vocals which again come with an infectious swing and raw attitude. The contagious essence of the song is emulated just as resourcefully, amidst the resonating lures of bass, in the swinging sticks of drummer Dan Smith too. The encounter is noise addiction for ears and appetite matched quickly after by Leveling In A Dream. Its initial bluesy coaxing is liquor to the senses, a minute plus of suggestive toxicity which eventually spawns a rhythmic and vocal stroll of forthright attitude. Subsequently a reserved but antagonistic wind of sound with rhythmic punches fill ears, the closing minute of the track a bracing bellow which still never catches fire but smoulders perfectly for potent success.
shaping thoughts and emotion with a dark menacing design. It is a heavy intensive opening which evolves without losing intent or weight into Each Others, a song which submerges senses in an invasive and heftily rewarding embrace. The vocals of Scott Martin and his guitar enterprise side by side with that of Jesse Moore immediately enslave, drawing thoughts deeper into the cavernous but equally intimate surroundings and depths of the narrative whilst the unpredictable rhythmic enticement built by drummer Aaron Perez aligned to the shadowed voice of Joseph Raines’ bass add keener textures and intrigue to the whole scenario.
opening rhythmic intrigue of The Wrecking Ball Unchained, the coaxing dramatic beats of Burns, soon aided by the expressive potent vocals of Holland, hypnotically distracting the senses. It is a transfixing start which belies the lying in wait tempest which soon has its moment and bursts through the ears in a torrential storm of invention and passion. Riffs and rhythms stalk and incite with determination and skill whilst the bass of Johnson adds a throatiness which only further seduces but it is the fiery inventive sonic flames and twists Holland also unleashes alongside his stirring vocals which cement the captivation. It is a powerful almost tempestuous engagement with plenty to justify the comparisons to bands such as The Mars Volta, Helms Alee, and These Arms Are Snakes, Wild Throne has drawn, but also in many ways we would add Manic Street Preachers in their early days, Black Tusk, and Muse for various aspects and essences which expel their bait throughout the tremendous track.
Christian Lembach are a cantankerous rub soon joined by the earthy bass growl of Jake Shultz, its throaty prowl instantly irresistible alongside the swinging thumping rhythmic assault of Travis Owen. It is a potent combination which takes on another guise and toxicity when Lembach restrains his fingers to let his vocals impressively swagger across the now primarily rhythm cast crowding of the senses. The track is an evolving, exhilarating contagious brawl of punk predation and riff clad incitement which feeds the senses as well as the already brewed hunger to the fullest enterprising meal of nose rock.