Category: post-punk

TRACK | The Kerosene Hours – Who’s That In My Room

5/5 golden merles

The perfect slice of alt rock paranoia, The Kerosene Hours’ “Who’s That in my Room” explores an inordinately compelling post-punk impostor self-diagnosis. The hooks are immense. The intensity of the lead drives forward the reckoning, while archival samples introduce a series of eerie phantasmal pedagogues emerging as deficient and outmoded council. It all combines to convincingly attest that the observed double life is worth leading.

Octave shifts and echo in the choral arrangements probably foremost, the tune’s construction is extremely carefully designed. Silverstein’s wailing, its range and melodic fervor, is simply gorgeous. The negative space employed and the phasing of discrete components throughout the soundscape is something to really appreciate in headphones.

During the push into the final chorus the modulated synth pulses apply a counterweighted melody after the field loop, adding a welcome variance to the crescendo, escalating the final advance, and precisely taking its own advice (“try to modify the stimulus”).

It’s a great repeater, hard to exhaust on successive listens. Pay what you will at the bandcamp, it is available at the price that you determine. For complimenting media, maybe also check out Bastie, Dehghani, Nkondo et al’s criminally underrated Gobelins short “Lonely Dogs.”

TRACK | jack petrone – pavement

5/5 golden merles

jack petrone’s track “pavement” does a lot with deceptively a little. The two chords pendular migration of the verse spans the width of the world, though its description could be of any given city or town. With the immense quality of the fine inky texture of overlapping noise you may lose a little coherence within that resonant hum, but only in the best possible shoegaze/alt manner of seeping and flooding. It’s a nice place to be, this gently discordant soundscape.

What appeals to me most is the near constant elaborations and punctuations of choral noise, guitar, and synth which offer carefully designated counterweights to the warmth and steady haze. These attributes reify the song as place, concretize the foundations, populate the landscape with monuments and working ruins.

trash is everywhere / dog shit on the ground /… thousand pounds of dirt and glass / falls in unison

Like any good visitation the stopover is abbreviated. There’s still plenty of time before the mires novelty diminishes and envelopes under less agreeable terms; somewhere safely situated around the two minute mark in this case.

The distinction of that melodic and tonal enchantment in contrast to the stark grit of the imagery makes it a rich and compelling piece. Investigate further and/or pay what you will on the bandcamp. Compare and contrast with Delaby, Takhedmit, & Giboury’s strange and excellent micro-short “Clavel Gris.”


TRACK | Cosme – ♀/♂

5/5 golden merles

More Groschi flagged digi drum gruel,
Cosme’s “♀/♂” has the right balance of grime and pop. Mexico-based egg and post-punk with track titles designed to stymie the algorithm. It features sharp synths. It is agreeably weird and pulpy. If you polish this it would die, the act breaking the barrier needed for breathing the muck it is coated in.

When the primary melody finally releases its jaws the newly minted guitar & synth hook cushions the transition into another form. That sequence kindly allows for a brief recuperation before proceeding into another mauling.

There’s a really fine assemblage of instrumental and vocal hooks then a bit of late-stage discordance on vocoder production that merges them into one. Additional digi-drum variant fills keep it all nice and novel in the detailing, fleshing out the piece. If one were so inclined you could surely dance to it with minimal hardship.

Demo No. 3 is currently $2.70 for the .wav files or $8.50 on the remaining cassettes. Maybe you can in the sequence of your life pair it with Priit Pärn’s “…And Plays Tricks.”

TRACK | variety – Plover

5/5 golden merles

Variety’s “Plover” is Texan avantpop rock composed of compelling narrative subversion, sticky melody and tone. The hook is a compacted material derived from descriptions of naturalistic imagery, the conflict of the domesticated and undomesticated in comparison to the authors interpersonal dilemmas. It’s thoughtful and pretty dang fun.

I need my streams and mountains tempered by the grim specter of death. Gluck and Johnson, Bly and Ruefle. Some human fingerprints on the felled log, beach towels on the bog, a figure ever-present on the vista to trample and insist.

Whereas at the end of “Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota” Wright pulls it all back home, a new frame, fitted, variety’s entry point with “Plover” is immediate. But it functions in a similar way. The relationship is described then promptly the tangent turns away, meanders off skyward, the footnote consuming the page. And then another. Relative to the original focus, the elaborated metaphor informs the initial concern, compounding all the more weight.

Two of the greatest modern scouts of imaginative rock have already signed off on the making, Groschi and Doyle. If you’re not already following them, what are you doing here?

The singles are combining into an album to be released in November: bandcamp / name your price.

TRACK | O.R.F. – wie schön

5/5 golden merles

What can be learned from this? Its direct and graceful descent. Its puncture and pulse. The relaxed raving of the narrations, the chosen selection of attributes as illustrative pastiche. The contents holding enough detail to endear as a sort of half stripped down, functional ruin. And the adequate melodic curvature to facilitate an ease of entry into the canal. Why does it work within the genre when so much else seems to flail about helplessly or sicken or combust when exposed to oxygen?

Probably for some to succeed others have to fail, and en mass; some sad blighted aspect of human perception and consumption: if too many find a balance they become unremarkable and we sharpen the point at which the balancing is possible. And whatever gets caught on that spear is called progress or best of the year, the reward of which is to be impaled and left atrophying in the sun. Also, it’s a nice pop tune and fun!

The track responds to a feeling, irreverence and care balanced out in one coherent, self-contained, 83 seconds of media. It tolerates enough elements of the antithesis to overcome intellectual opposition through instinct. Or maybe it curtails instinct sufficiently in order to compose a pleasing and compatible story.  It is the same game as always. But this is a good attempt. According to me, a man who can just about afford to pay for webhosting.

Either you’ve heard this song 20,000 times before or you’ve never heard it. The limits are in place: lung capacity, coincident rhyming forms of language, melodic coherence processing tolerance, range of audible tone and transmittable frequency, mass production, and a hundred other great filters of pop music. Eventually the plaque of nostalgia will harden entirely around your heart. You can use this as a test to see if the barricade is complete or if some gaps remain for admission. $0 on the bandcamp.



COMP | Este Sinte Mata Fascistas

5/5 golden merles

New compilation from Argentina in the wake of the December inauguration of the libertarian hatchetman and fascist clown Javier Milei. In the absence of simply gawking in terror at the spectacle of a modern state being disassembled and sold for scrap, what can be done? Well, Fichines Ruido Zafarla have put out Este Sinte Mata Fascistas, that’s what. The disc functions as a unified front of disgust and defiance from a collection of some of the nations finest punks.

There’s a good breadth of style to the pieces, from egg and devocore tinged tracks like Valentina & los Bindis’ “Basta” to harder proto punk and hardcore Desborde’s “Hartxs” components. But the spirit remains consistent throughout and pulls from common threads of musical influence and political offense.

In “Basta” saw synths reverberate in a synchronized percussive wave, the chorus a harmonized rallying cry of that eponymous declaration (“Enough!”). It’s great synth punk, melodically sound and structured with playful invention within the coalescing vocal lanes, commiserating formidably with the best of the genre. There is value in mutiny during times of madness, singing about this dissension, and celebrating noncompliance with your friends.

The act itself is valuable but fortunately the record is also exceedingly good. Show a bit of solidarity if you should see fit. The beautiful CD option comes in a floppy disk sleeve, for $3 ($15 to get it up and over to the US), or name your price for the digital files.

TRACK | Gob Psychic – Harnessed Energy

5/5 golden merles

In praise of unpolished polemics: there is a reasonable case to be made that half-articulated rage is the purest form. It’s straight from the source, cut with the contextual and peripheral distractions, before it is honed into a refined simulacra for mounting on the wall. “Harnessed Energy” by Aarhus Denmark’s Gob Psychic is a good approximation of that impulse, the documented split between archetype and the feeling, language grappling with emotion.

Of course the art is in the perpetual reimagining of the scene: the accumulation of experience cultivated into a written explanation of events, coupled to the genre of cultural conditioning. Then comes the collaborating on accompanying music, the practice to achieve a reproducible form, the live performances tailored by practical necessity, and finally the studio rendering that attempts to preserve or recreate the original sensation or at least some equally amusing derivative variation.

That process is impressively captured here. It’s a great credit to the band, production and mix (Sauna Studios with Neil R. Young, mixing by Jeppe Grønbæk Andersen). It doesn’t feel to me stale or stilted. When you deal in a perpetual stream of these materials, the gradient is apparent. It seems to have emerged into the world fully formed, revealed.

That obviously isn’t the case due to the nature of making things and releasing them globally. But convincing the cynical consumer/listener of this is the magic trick. There’s no wooden tongue clacking, no resentment at having to repeat ones self. “I’m not like those men / I hope I’m not like those men,” is screamed with a visceral quarter pound of conviction. The doubt remains present and compelling. Maybe it is in the room with you right now.

If it resonates, perhaps also look at Cathedrale’s Houses are Built the Same, Black Bug’s s/t, and Egg Idiot’s Meltdown. Vinyls on Le Cèpe Records (Paris) and name-your-price on the bandcamp.

TRACK | The Uptights – Jasper

5/5 golden merles

Oslo’s The Uptights have created in “Jasper” a multifaceted fuck-you of a tune, some real fun experimental lo-fi post-punk. Early hooks are hung on a static howling, doused in reverb and abandoned in sequence. From this admirable mire three distinct subsections are carved and then collapsed at the emergence of each newly favored form. It is resolute in relation to what it is not, competently corrupted. The contrasting components of this set provide by their shared presence a murky but welcome depth of field, one that is surprisingly vast and inviting.

Within this arrangement the track seems to feed off of itself in a complex and closed system. It is pleasant to witness. By populating the relative void of the medium in this way we are able to see and define something more clearly than if it were otherwise an isolated instance or series of tracks. Instead of fostering some post-punk hack medley, the negative space envelops the substances, rematerializing them afterward in new forms, glowing, growing and exhibiting signs of life. The movement and misdirection creates a admirable gap in which other imagined aspects are allowed to flourish.

If you’re a fan of Flegel you will be familiar with the feeling derived from expert arrangements. It’s the same in any medium, but this is a good example.

By the allotment of elements you’ve been intentionally given something to recognize in relation to one another: a sense of scale and speed, relative motion in focus instead of a blur, a foundational frame of reference that allows for orientation. That is something music can but often does not offer: a signpost in a sea of dark, a diminishing of alienation for the observer. Maybe a couple of metaphors need to be tacked together to get at the scope of it, but that’s the general idea.

I don’t think most writers even know to want it. This type of articulation is often discounted or crudely overelaborated to the point of the grandiose and the monstrous and it all collapses, some limitation of consciousness or patience usually inhibits their ideal manner of consumption. The texture and tone has to be right to be of a compelling type to even tolerate the transference. Counted off and casually scuttled, as here, you don’t need some minutia fixated vulgarity, at just under three minutes the graceful brevity achieves a similar end and doesn’t rot out under your gaze in the process.

I was dreaming arrives October 27th. The cost is 99 NOK for the cassette or 30 for the digital (~$3).

TRACK | The Toads – Ex-KGB

5/5 golden merles

The Toads include members of The Shifters, The Living Eyes and Parsnip, each has featured here or in past mixes. In The Wilderness is for me one of the early contenders on the short list for album of the year. Underneath the immaculate cover art there’s a lot of amorphous and sometimes languorous melodic hooks, both grim and rejoicing. All the sonic lanes utilized to converse are corrupted and bleeding together as one sort of agreeably dysfunctional organism.

There’s a consistent sense of dread and foreboding expressed in conversational tones and language, never deprived of humor or fully paralyzed by withdrawal. It’s a nice record, almost akin to being alive. This is something I find some alignment with (“I have a love for what is mine / but it’s slowly disappearing / …wave after wave”).

Reading concurrent to processing the album, I find the tone and grade similar to some work from Louise Glück. These lines seems appropriate by way of comparison (following a bleakly-comedic sequence on forgetting the word for ‘chair’ in old age – just go read it):

“To raise the veil.
To see what you’re saying goodbye to.“

The melodic shift that accompanies the chorus late on is a valuable motion, increasing the scope and adding nuance, growing the world of the thing. There’s plenty of this care manifesting throughout, like the slight variations on the roving bass scale, the abiding horns and the backing vocal thrust bracketing many of the lines. There’s plenty of subtle sophistication that doesn’t reek of lacquer and polish; plenty of humor and a bit of misery in the fabric of it. I’m happy to hear it and to be in alignment with this bleak and pleasant thing.

Vinyl from Upset the Rhythm (UK) and Anti Fade Records (AU), $7.90 for the transmittable files.

TRACK | Mantarochen – Porzellan

5/5 golden merles

“Porzellan” is formidable synth wave/post-punk from the overflowing chalice of Leipzig. This is all about the multifaceted arrangement of melodic layers, interwoven and unfolding in a organic and fundamentally convincing manner. The immediate complexity doesn’t overwhelm the feeling of the thing while in pursuit of its own novelty. That’s a kind of magic trick, both rare and good to behold.

I’ve been in a rut with respect to consumption; everything I hear sounds captive to its influences instead of supported or branching out from them, mostly exhausted, redundant. But Mantarochen’s track here is a stark contrast, taking the general genre cues and with an outright devotion to melody breaking out of that pattern by some novel means.

With a handful of elements, symbolically rendered (Digi-drums braced between synths octaves and the bass beneath, the poised utterances), you too can recreate the world. Or at least an amusing and convincing representation of it.

Beast or man, I studied German at High Schools and Universities in the United States. This means I have acquired the vocabulary of a pigeon after filling out various pulp-smelling workbooks at ungodly hours of the morning. But what I can comprehend sounds agreeable and fits the mood established in the murk of its movements.

The price is whatever you want it to be on the bandcamp. It was found on side B of 12xu’s Verspannungskassette cassette #58.