The Feral Young – I Haven’t Seen Myself in a While

Nov5

Untamed, wild, and aggressive to the point of bloodthirsty at times…you would expect little else from a proposition called The Feral Young. Theirs is a sound within their new offering which ferociously devours the senses yet equally a predator adept at prowling the listener like a sonic wolf waiting to move in for the kill. It is a character and intent which goes to make the I Haven’t Seen Myself in a While EP one menacingly striking encounter and The Feral Young a band very hard to ignore.

Hailing from Finland’s oldest city, Turku, The Feral Young unleash a voracious fusion of punk and noise rock also embracing rich scuzzy essences from the likes of garage and stoner rock. Formed in 2017, the band has drawn references to the likes of Every Time I Die, Metz, Whores, and Queens of the Stone Age but as I Haven’t Seen Myself in a While reveals theirs is a sound already discovering its particular individuality, a uniqueness already growing since its predecessor, last year’s Failures EP.

I Haven’t Seen Myself in a While swiftly trespasses the senses with opener The Beat, its initial guitar graze of sound an enticing lure into a thick wall of temptation driven by primal beats as a raw sonic ‘hum’ escorts their predation. The equally nagging threat of the heavy bass throb adds to the intoxicating menace ears and appetite quickly fell too, earnest vocal squalls completing the rich bait making a delicious intrusion. Like a call to arms, a piper to primal instincts, the track sets the EP off on a major high.

It is a lofty perch which Amnesia Alibi cements; its raucous noise punk mixing with psych shimmers and surf ripples in an undulating eddy of snarling incitement. Again rhythms simply ensnare as melodic toxicity and vocal incitement bait, the track mercurial if always invasive in its attack but relentless in its creative and inventive savagery. It is another major temptation to The Feral Young sound so easy to succumb to.

The EP’s title track completes the encounter, the song a relatively kinder assault but as fiery and drenched in unbroken spirit and attitude as its companions. The band’s more garage rock instincts come to the fore in a roar sharing the same kind of punk instincts as artists such as The Punks and The Stooges mixed with the ferocious enterprise of others like Whores and Pigs. Though not quite matching the massive heights of its predecessors, the track is a rousing blaze escalating the impressive and thrilling outcry of the release.

With new music in our ears almost without breaks being excited is a regular treat, finding ourselves lustily animated a far rarer occurrence but one The Feral Young inspired with ease. Roll on the album the band is said to be currently unleashing from their undomesticated hearts.

I Haven’t Seen Myself in a While is out now digitally and on Ltd Ed 7” vinyl via Kaos Kontrol; available @ https://kaoskontrol.bandcamp.com/album/i-havent-seen-myself-in-a-while & http://www.kaos-kontrol.org/shop/the-feral-young-i-havent-seen-myself-in-a-while-7-inch

https://www.facebook.com/theferalyoung https://www.instagram.com/theferalyoungsucks/

Pete RingMaster 03/11/2018

Parasitic Twins – All That’s Left To Do Now Is Sleep With Each Other

Oct17

A charnel house of sonic destruction and corruption, All That’s Left To Do Now Is Sleep With Each Other is the debut EP from British hardcore duo Parasitic Twins. Offering three tracks of raw noise infested dissonance, the release is an inhospitable animus of sound and intent which as it charred the senses had them keenly captivated.

Hailing from Hull, Parasitic Twins is the union of guitarist/vocalist Max Watt (Rotting Monarchs) and drummer Dom Smith (Mary and The Ram). Having previously worked together as part of Seep Away, the pair bred their new project within a “desire to create the most abrasive sound they could.” Caustically lo-fi and mercilessly intrusive, an encounter recorded live and raw, All That’s Left To Do Now Is Sleep With Each Other is the first result of that intent,.

It opens with Massive and instantly challenges ears with gnarly rabid riffs soaked in doom bred venom. The track uncages a predacious doom nurtured stroll upon the imposing rhythms of Smith, desolation and toxicity oozing from every psyche ravishing note as pestilential animosity coats every syllable out of Watt’s scarred throat. Yet there is an instinctive swing to the track which easily gets under the skin.

It is a template of sorts which breeds all tracks even with their true and open individuality as shown by Flipswitch. Its hardcore breeding ravages the senses from its first breath, riffs snarling as they abrase while the dual attack of vocals is similarly a fierce grazing to challenge and incite.

Final track, End, is a consumptive plague of noise but again springing an infectious noise punk incurred sway which soon settled within ears and body. Barely exposing a minute and a half to its carnivorous dealings, the track is feral pleasure; the EP the same times three.

All That’s Left To Do Now Is Sleep With Each Other will be a scourge too far for many and erosive manna for others as it announces the outbreak of one striking aural trespass going by the name of Parasitic Twins.

All That’s Left To Do Now Is Sleep With Each Other is released October 26^th.

https://www.facebook.com/ParasiticTwinsBand https://twitter.com/TwinsParasitic

Pete RingMaster 17/10/2018

U-Foes – No More No More

Sep24

Live @ Fru Lundgreen, Trondheim, Norway

It may say No More No More but ears swiftly demanded the opposite once falling under the sonic hail and brimstone of the new single from Norwegian outfit U-Foes. The track is an insatiable slice of noise punk infested hardcore which batters and tempts with increasing rigour; nagging, harassing, and pleasing in equal measure.

Rising from the ashes of hardcore outfit Silence the Foe, Oslo hailing U-Foes is the trio of made up of guitarist Marcus Forsgren (The Lionheart Brothers, Jaga Jazzist, Bror Forsgren), drummer Peter Rudolfsen (The Lionheart Brothers), and long-time friend of The RR, vocalist Anders Voldrønning (Shevils). Embracing aspects of their earlier work together and on-going projects, the threesome have twisted all elements into a whole new trespass of sound with plenty more fresh and creative animosity loaded craft involved.

A teaser of the band’s debut album due for release in November, No More No More is a carnal assault of sound; a track as primal and feral as it is skilfully manipulated and manipulative. It scowls with contempt from the first caustic surge of guitar, its sound a scuzzy yet precise blur inciting just as irritable intent from senses harrying rhythms. Voldrønning’s familiar roar intensifies the antipathy of sound and emotion, sharing greater toxicity to the wounds already incurred from the band’s raucous enterprise. Even so there is an infectious side to it all which quickly had hips swinging and limbs punching with zeal.

However you drape the track, it is rock ‘n’ roll rock at its primal best; punk rock to arouse the senses and spirit and the sign of big exciting thing to come from that impending album and we suspect for the band itself in its wake.

Check out the video for No More No More on our Video Selector page, the single available now on Marw Melodee Music.

https://www.facebook.com/ufoesofficial/ http://u-foes.com/

Pete RingMaster 24/09/2018

KEN mode – Loved

Sep1

We cannot say that the artwork surrounding releases particularly guides or influences our thoughts going into a new encounter but it has to be admitted that the art wrapping the new KEN mode album made a striking impression whilst sparking intrigue and imagination long before a note was heard. Created by the band’s long-time collaborator Randy Ortiz, it is a piece which also inspired the band itself in regards to Loved, their seventh full-length. Vocalist/guitarist Jesse Matthewson ahead of its release revealed that “We entered writing for this album with one goal in mind – to please the smile” referring to the cover’s protagonist.

He also said “We wanted to make an album that represented a thinking person’s reaction to the political/technological climate we are existing in today. We wanted to make the perfect album to put on repeat while pushing your physical limits to their maximum, if only to silence the noise that is constantly whirring around inside of your own head, even for a brief moment.” Listening to Loved, it is not hard to feel they succeeded in both, certainly in satisfying the smile and though whether you can create perfection can be debated but it is a release which stands on the frontline of their most stirring and striking proposals yet.

From the grungier and expansive indie rock inspired endeavour of its highly enjoyable predecessor, Success, KEN mode has in many ways returned to the sonic viscera and noise punk/hardcore toxicity of the likes of Venerable (2011) and Entrench (2013) for Loved. In saying that, the album equally pushes the bold adventure hinted at in Success to far more magnetic, feral, and maybe for some divisive heights. It is unapologetically invasive, a cauldron of sonic violence, and their most invasively dark offering yet and for us more than possibly their finest moment yet.

Doesn’t Feel Pain Like He Should is the first venomous treat from Loved, the track instantly lancing the senses with a sonic incision before the fierce rapier swings of drummer Shane Matthewson descend closely aligned to the ravenous grumble of Scott Hamilton’s bass. The caustic wires cast from Jesse’s guitar equally infest song and listener making a nagging cradle for the raw throated squall of his vocals all the time rhythms breeding greater virulence in their trespass. It is a glorious nagging of sound taking swipes and bites with every elevation of animosity and twist of enterprise resulting in a deliciously corrosive start to the release.

The Illusion Of Dignity teases with its initial lure before swinging on rapacious rhythms next, Shane’s hits a bone shuddering impact matched in carnal attraction by the resonance of Scott’s bass. Post punk hues add to the noise rock antics bred within the cavernous yet threateningly intimate breath of the track, vocals a toxic animus across the revolving spiral and searing flare up of guitar. As with its predecessor, new intensities fuel and fresh ideation inspires the course of the irresistible intrusion before Feathers & Lips steps forward to prey on senses and psyche. From its first breath it is a challenging threat but quickly springing its own infectious violation as seductively flirtatious as it is menacingly inhospitable. With a web of sonic dissonance and enticement at its heart, it is another which easily got under the skin and infringed upon the senses for rich pleasure.

It there was vague concord in the last track, Learning To Be Too Cold is sheer ill-will and needs a mere breath to invade and suffocate the senses in its corrosive wash and vocal feud as beats again barely labour to punish and incite attention. The vile lure of bass is a treat whilst the sonic scathing from the guitar is a mercilessly nagging breach as magnetic as everything piercing its scarring waves. It is not a song with the same instinctive contagion of those before it but one as memorable while Not Soulmates sets another unforgettable marker with its untamed but skilfully bred cacophony led by vocal discontent.

Very Small Men rears up to share its unique character and proposal swiftly after, dancing in on nimble dynamics driven by Shane’s inimitable rhythmic dexterity. It is soon though blowing a storm of aural animation hell-bent on igniting muscles and addictiveness to flex their instincts as the song’s holler enslaves. It is a thrill of an infestation, discord increasing by every turn of sonic entanglement and emotive dissonance.

From one of the album’s momentous moments to another as the calm swing of This Is A Love Test brings its own array of creative altercation. A jazz nurtured intimating caress is brought by the sax of Kathryn Kerr, its emotive and mellow seducing aligned to vocal reflection but both soon inspiring and joining a rancorous expulsion of frictious inharmony in a schism of enterprise which further inflames ears and thoughts as rhythms permeate the body.

The final pair of Fractures In Adults and No Gentle Art are equally as riveting and argumentative. The first is a senses hassling, evolving drone of disharmony which fingers and violates psyche and self-peace, each wave of creative quarrel intensifying in weight, ferocity, and conflict to disarm and inhumanely seduce while its successor rises up from a connecting rhythmic pulsation, emerging through shadow thick, portentously drenched serenity into almost salacious sonic warfare It stalks the listener from the off, every note and breath bringing a slight elevation in threat and intensity leading to crescendos of visceral expulsions and ravenous corrosion laden discordance again with Kerr’s breath casting creative arson within the gorgeous enmity.

The track is a bewitching, at times bewildering and relentlessly breath-taking conclusion to an album proving so hard to escape and move on to new adventure from. If you are looking for life affirming calm and beauty, Loved is not for you yet in many ways it does feed those desires whilst focusing the senses and thoughts on the reality of the world we are inescapably part of. Self-harm has never been more fun and invigorating than with KEN mode’s latest monster of a gem.

Loved is available now via Season of Mist and @ https://kenmode.bandcamp.com/album/loved

Check out their website for news and dates of their Canadian dates with Shallow in September, US/Canadian tour alongside Birds In Row in October, and European tour with Coilguns and Birds In Row this Nov/Dec.

http://www.ken-mode.com http://www.facebook.com/kenmode http://www.twitter.com/kenmodenoise

Pete RingMaster 31/08/2018

Wood Chickens – Must Die

Aug17

Pic Courtesy of Madylen Photography

True uniqueness is a rarity in modern times though you can certainly get very individual takes on the familiar to feed the insatiable appetite for something new. It is fair to say that Wood Chickens have a handle on the former more than most, their sound within new EP, Must Die, a sonic scourge which simultaneously defies the breeding bearing its rapacious presence. It makes for a hellacious infestation of noise which had ears joyous and the imagination spiralling.

Hailing from Madison, Wisconsin, Wood Chickens descends on the senses through the scurrilous antics and prowess of Alex Wiley Coyote, Griff Chickens, and Justin J. Johnson. Their new EP is our introduction to the trio but hindsight has found that across a host of releases their sound has boldly evolved from its country/cowpunk breeding. Must Die is their most extreme offering yet; a cauldron of feral noise and imagination gloriously spoiled with the toxins of punk and metal as well as psych and noise rock.

Five tracks barely touching five minutes in length, the EP immediately has ears cowering and thoughts disoriented with Sados. Its corrupted entrance eventually bursts into a rabid onslaught as guitars and rhythms join vocals in scarring the senses. It is a maelstrom of dissonance yet has an instinctive undercurrent of catchiness bred from its punk natured seeding.

We Skate in Boots swings in next, psych sighs accompanying its brewing contagion loaded garage punk tainted punk ‘n’ roll. Primal and anthemic, the track roars and incites participation as easily as it savages the senses surging through ears with rabidity to the fore before Return of Skunk Ape unleashes its own untamed caustic virulence across 46 seconds of subversive temptation and creative devilry embracing similar choleric hues to its predecessor.

The EP closes up with the psychotic animus that is Y2k Pt. 2, undiluted ravenous noise and intent corroding the speakers, though there is also an untitled unannounced track after that which is, well just bewildering and indeed magnetic.

There has been little if anything which comes close to the sound and invention of Must Die, indeed it seems nothing in the Wood Chickens discography previously like it either. If it is a new turn in the band’s music we for one will be overjoyed though their previous encounters are nothing to ignore, and if just a one off certainly something to be greedily devoured by all with an appetite for the contagion of noise.

Must Die is out now via Crush Grove Records; available digitally and on cassette @ https://crushgroverecords.bandcamp.com/album/must-die

https://www.facebook.com/woodchickensband/ https://woodchickens.bandcamp.com/

Pete RingMaster 14/08/2018

Gnarwolf – II

Apr1

Photo credit: Scott W. Coleman

Not to be confused with the equally fine British hardcore band Gnarwolves, Gnarwolf is a primal roar from Texas whose snarl is also hardcore bred and demandingly distinct. The Austin hailing foursome of Andy, Trent, Steven, and Polo are about to release their second EP, II. Like its title, musically the band gets to the point without fuss. There is no beating around the bush in sound and intent, just raw and intensive examinations of the senses and emotions; a trespass which is merciless, abrasive, and increasingly tasty.

There is no mistaking the admitted influence of bands such as Every Time I Die, Norma Jean, and The Chariot in the Gnarwolf sound, essences which fuelled last year’s debut EP. Abandon was a formidable introduction to the band and it seems quickly picked up a whole new flood of fans the way of the quartet. It is success easy to imagine II finding as a bare minimum. There is a new wealth of inventive hostility and unpredictable imagination to their sophomore release without defusing any of the venomous causticity and cacophony of antagonism which enhanced its predecessor, as well as the potential of even bolder things nestling in its stirring body.

It starts with Harold: The Hero where straight away beats rap at the door before ravenous metal seeded riffs and senses slamming beats join throat scarring spite flavoured vocals in breaking through the defences. It is an instant punk roar to get off on, the technical dance of the guitars enhancing rather than distracting from the instinctive belligerent holler. That unpredictability is already at play, adding an almost schizophrenic hue to the dirty frenzy gripping ears and a quickly awoken appetite.

Its persuasive challenge is followed by that of Jessie: The Sheriff, an even more agitated and concussive affair veined by toxically spicy grooves and mixed vocal uproar. For a minute and a half it bullies, ravages, and invigorates body and satisfaction, hitting the sweet spot in noisy discontent and ferocity before Mr. And Mrs Jenkins: The Mayor And His Wife unleashes its own infectiously irritable clamour of sound and heart where sonic ire twists and turns with increasing corrosive seduction.

Anne: The Widow entwines ears in its own intoxicating but fearsome hooks next; the flirtation of a citric melody quickly accompanied by vocal exasperation and in turn a gloriously predatory bassline. It all merges into something harsher and filthier within a few more seconds, a brawling cloud of ill-content eventually losing its shape as that first sonic lure frees itself again with vocal harmonics as raw as they are warmly enticing in tow. The song is pure captivation eventually leaving lingering wounds on emotionally and sonically scoured flesh and senses.

From there Hector: The Foreigner simply throws its mordant might at the listener, guitars and vocals a scalding scourge as rhythms prowl with their own dark intent. For personal tastes, some of the twists do not come off as well as elsewhere within the release but are fleeting moments in another highly bracing and pleasurable assault.

The EP concludes with The Dodge Brothers: The Cowboys, a maelstrom of spiralling guitar incitement, rhythmic blitzing, and vocal acrimony but also a theatre of melody woven drama as keys court thoughts and emotions from within the turmoil to brew a haunting epilogue.

There seems to be an exciting wave of noise-mongers emerging right now, new and those finally seeing some attention from their place within the underground. Gnarwolf seal their place to the fore of that outbreak with II, a release as punk and metal as it is noise and hardcore, and more and more one thrilling invasion of the psyche.

The II EP is released April 8^th.

For more info check out…

https://www.facebook.com/gnarlywerewolf https://twitter.com/gnarlywerewolf https://gnarlywerewolf.bandcamp.com/

Pete RingMaster 31/03/2017

Idles – Brutalism

Mar15

Photo by Stephanie Elizabeth Third

An infestation of the senses, a raw roar on all our responsibilities, and a contagious noise fuelled trespass on everything in between, Brutalism is one of the essential incitements of not only 2017 but we would suggest the decade as a whole. The debut album from British quintet Idles rips into personal and social issues with the insatiable attitude and defiance unleashed in the late seventies, its irritable sound as much punk rock rage as it is a post punk/noise rock enslaving of the imagination and psyche.

Each song from the Bristol five-piece of Joe Talbot, Mark Bowen, Lee Kiernan, Adam Devonshire, and Jon Beavis is a creative growl, a visceral antagonism with an infectious edge and mischief just as bruising and incisive. Dedicated in part to the loss of Talbot’s mother, who adorns the record’s cover, Brutalism is stretched with such invasive treats, from start to finish a mordant adventure, challenge, and accusation as witty as it is vicious, as devilish as it is ferocious. With Idles in the early days of an UK tour, their first album is sure to see it’s already eagerly devoured and anticipated 25 dates embraced by even greater fevered support.

Straight away band and album show uniqueness within a proposition which also swiftly inspires thoughts of bands such as The Fall, Swell Maps, and early The Horrors. There is so much more to it though as that originality shows, opener Heel_Heal cantankerously striding from an initial dispute with an intrusively nagging riff and rhythmic tenacity which alone lures keen attention as Talbot’s equally confrontational vocals snarl. Punk rock infested with crabbily textured noise, the track rumbles and grumbles; band vocals as anthemically rousing and spiteful as the general character of the outstanding starter.

Fellow Bristolians, The St Pierre Snake Invasion also come to mind with the song and successor Well Done, the second a sonically twisted and lyrically spiky shuffle making use of body and imagination like a peeved puppeteer. Its persistent jabs tenderise the senses for the scourges of sound which erupt to further scorch, Idles pressing all the right buttons for lusty reactions before uncaging the equally enslaving Mother. An irresistible bassline cores the next track, its dark tempting soon surrounded by swinging beats and scuzzy riffs, all uniting with Artery meets Gang Of Four scented tempestuousness. Again no punches in sound and word are pulled, one of numerous traits within the Idles sound which leaves there little to be taken lightly but plenty to find a seriously keen appetite for.

Date Night reveals a tango loaded with a rhythmic incitement which barely stays in the same place more than a second or two, its beats on hot coals but with a composure which aligns perfectly with the monotone growl of the bass. As guitars saunter and blaze, Talbot magnetically assaults with word and character, the volatile squall of the track then emulated in its own way by Faith In the City and its post punk ‘n’ roll causticity. A rousing irritant exposing essences hinting at bands such as again Artery and The Nightingales, submission to its lively acerbic inducement is quick and just as rapid as next up 1049 Gotho waltzes with irritated intent and pounding beats into ears and psyche. For all it and the other song’s choleric probing and inventive dexterity, sonic squeals a delight, there is a melodic lining which as subtle as it might be at times just inflames the catchiness and adventure of all escapades.

Wiry tendrils have ears encroached and alive as Divide & Conquer rises with its own particular grumble of sound, the guitars creating a web of raw enticement as bass and beats prowl with a testy air, Talbot stalking it all with his increasingly compelling tones. The increase in energy and ferociousness only adds to the captivation before Rachel Khoo and Stendahl Syndrome irascibly serenade and fractiously critiques respectively; both unloading their sonic and lyrical venom with snappy and quarrelsome devilry.

Next up Exeter has a slightly lazier gait but still imposes its punk ‘n’ roll canter with addiction forging rhythmic cunning as guitars and vocals get under the skin with their respective exploits like a Fatima Mansions/ Big Black collusion exploring creatively fresh impositions. Both tracks leave an already greedy appetite hungry for more, a lust more than fed by the kinetic stomp and sonic psychosis of Benzocaine and equally by the punk grumble and waspish word prowess of White Privilege.

Idles leave their arguably greatest moment for its final track, though each listen only elevates another moment to drool over. Slow Savage is a haunting dyspeptically lined embrace living up to its title as keys and voice fill the low-key and stark atmospheric mist hugging the imagination as a heartbeat of rhythm throbs. It is a dark, melancholic rapture violating as much as seducing the senses and a thrilling end to one exceptional release.

Being truly excited by something new or unique is a treat rarely found these days, Idles though have cracked that desire in fine style with Brutalism.

Brutalism is out now on Balley Records through iTunes and other stores.