Andy Human and the Reptoids – Andy Human and the Reptoids (S-S)
No other album had the ability to get under your skin quite like this debut from the Bay Area’s finest export. With a timeless sound that draws inspiration from, but doesn’t directly ape the gurgling glops of glam and protopunk (Brian Eno, Pere Ubu, Devo) that spouted them, this band’s exceptional songcraft has given this LP a high rate of return and listenability. Soon all the references to classics will fade as this records has all the indicators of a classic in and of itself.
The Chewers – Dead Dads (Self Released)
There are weirdos and then there are people trying to be weirdos. These freaks from Nashville couldn’t be normal if they tried and their musical output benefits from this tragic anomaly in that they’ve been able to create a truly unique body of work that allows more adventurous listeners a glimpse into a world that’s more fascinating, frightening, and funny than nearly any other band you’ll hear. Truly unique and truly weird. Read more about it here.
Dan Melchior’s Broke Revue – Lords of the Manor (In The Red)
Dan’s prolific discography of solo records and records with Das Menace have been a steady source of brilliant ramshackle rock n’ roll on par with other masters of the form, like Billy Childish, Jay Reatard or Jon Dwyer. As great as that gravy train has been with multiple releases hitting the vinyl bins year after year, I have to admit that when I heard the Broke Revue moniker was being tossed out for a new record, the first since the band’s last recordings in 2004, I was more than a little amped, being that Oldtime-Futureshock, Heavy Dirt and Bitterness, Spite, Rage, & Scorn still sit high on my list of all-time favorites. Lord of the Manor has all the rickety hooks and stomp of those earlier records, but now wraps it in a detached psychedelic swirl that darkly spins off into fractured Chrome solos or relentlessly heads down krautrock. The new Broke Revue is an entirely new beast and one I hope rears its ugly head again sometime soon.
Killing Joke – Pylon 2xLP (Spinefarm)
After 35 years, you might expect the legendary UK postpunk pounders to loose a little steam and/or piss and vinegar, but so far they’ve kept right at it and have continued to make killer records decade after decade. From the masterpiece of their eponymous debut LP through 1983’s percussive Fire Dances, even through their weaker new-wavy late ‘80s records on to the more metallic Pandemonium in 1994 and through the 2000s, there’s been enough trace amounts of their original fire in all their releases to make ‘em worth paying attention to. And this double whopper again shows how malleable their sound can be by pleasing not only lovers of metal, industrial, dub, EDM, punk, and all points in between, but by demonstration how their unique vision has influenced underground music overall. The tracks on Pylon span from drifting hypnotic anthems to bombastic marches, all roaring or at least gurgling with layers of texture and Geordie Walker’s unrivaled minor key guitar swells. Needless to say, Pylon is an epic addition to an already epic discography.
Male Gaze – Gale Maze LP (Castle Face)
Delivering on the promise of their 7”, Gale Maze reels in the noise a wee bit and serves up a cool slab of postpunk built with commanding gothy vocals and thick fuzzy bass-driven songs that channel the frenetic dark energy of Tones on Tail or the coldwave songcraft of Total Control. It’s instantly catchy and will wrap itself deep into the folds of your brain as it also rumbles in your gut. Body music for the brain or brain music for the body?
Mick Futures – Banned from the Future (Telephone Explosion)
Only the Andy Human record earlier this year got as many plays as this surprise treat from Canada’s Mitch Houle. Endlessly listenable pop damage for mutants of all ages, Banned from the Future pulls you in with hooks in the form of synthetically-enhanced punk so catchy that you’ll finally be able to put something new between all those classic Chrome, Devo, and Roxy Music records you’ve spun into oblivion.
Shadow in the Cracks – Shadow in the Cracks (Goner)
What could be seen as a side project of Minneapolis’ The Blind Shake, this 9-song convulsive devotional deserves some credit for discovering a new space in the well travelled garage punk sound continuum. They exist in a plane where tranced out shamanistic krautrock mingles in the open, singular spaces Wire discovered on Pink Flag, while getting scorched by the burning, grizzled fire of Dead Moon. One of the freshest records the garage canon has seen in a long time.
Sleaford Mods – Key Markets (Harbinger Sound)
If you consider the mountains of halfwit shitass punk bands out there clogging the bins and clubs with formulaic and conventional tripe, you have to wonder how it is that two Brits armed with nothing more than minimal beats and primitive bass lines can lay waste to all of it with 12 cuts of spittin’ working class rage. Key Markets is what the The Fall would’ve sounded like if Mark E. Smith grew up listening to Crass and Wu Tang Clan instead of Can and The Seeds.
The Soupcans – Soft Party (Telephone Explosion)
Toronto spazzoids The Soupcans are back with 13 hits of Grade A ass-whooping garage punk jolts. Their tantalizing 7” EP, Parasite Brain, from 2013 left a thirst for these lads brand of huh that can finally be quenched, with pleasantly deranged bangers like “Hairicide” and “Razorface”, full of tales about who the fuck knows what. They even put up a splash of quasi black metal blast beats and howls with the punishing track “Murder Parade“ that shows a wild new angle on the Soupcans sound. They’ve managed to both hone their sound and push it even further too. Absolutely as essential as their previous LP.
Ufomammut – Ecate (Neurot)
As the various branches of metal continue to mutate and push into new territory, it’s always rewarding to slog through a few tons of tedious metal clones to find records as remarkable as this monster from Italy’s finest metal trio. The riffs on Ecate are unforgivingly heavy and relentless, textured with mysterious samples, buried vocals, and vicious electronics that pound you into putty while also giving what’s left of your brain a psychedelic treat on a trajectory as convoluted as its retina frying cover art. It’s a sublime sludge stew to fuel 45 minutes of infinite astrological exploration.