Post-Thursday hangovers have got me, and every other fun loving Sydney-sider, in a state of total trauma. Thankfully, there’s a cure for that, with the ear-splitting new track from Sydney’s best punk trio Yes, I’m Leaving. And I do mean, Sydney’s BEST PUNK ROCK TRIO! And I don’t mean cure, as if you’re hungover, this song will literally rip your head apart like Cthulu deciding he want to gorge himself on your brains.
‘One’ is just as loud, noisy and brilliant as any other Yes, I’m Leaving material that has come before it. The pearl of Yes, I’m Leaving’s music is their aggression, and it’s delivered here like Liam Neeson finding out his daughter has been kidnapped. Couple that with the whiplash staccato of the pounding drums and bass, and you’ve got a song that’ll tear your insides apart faster than an orgy of Chestbursters.
By the power of paradoxical band names, Black Vanilla are back! A year on from their insane track ‘Call Your Husband’, the Sydney trio have released SMACKS, which is like if The Prodigy’s ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ were spliced into The Matrix, and then fed into an ecstasy-fuelled rave at Sydney’s coolest warehouse party. More shredded than your average Stereosonic punter, it pulses with a scary amount of energy. Laced with electricity and power, ‘SMACKS’ will destroy everything you thought you knew about dance music, and rebuild it into the insane totem pole of amazing that is Black Vanilla.
Besides winning the title for best obscure Quentin Tarantino-related band name, Chicks Who Love Guns also release some fucking killer tunes. New one ‘The Deep End’ is no exception, a thick slab of rock in the vein of….well, fuck mate, I don’t know. The similarities escape me at the moment, but its interesting to see that CWLG have traded out the throat rippers for meanderings in the countryside. Don’t worry young ones, there’s still plenty of thrashing and guitars melting into each other like a volcano of different ice cream flavours, all of which explode into your mouth at the same time. But the fact remains that CWLG are diversifying their style, yet still commandeering the fuck out of our attention. Good fucking choon!
If ever there were to be a band to take off were Les Savy Fav, Danananakroyd have left off, it would be Sydney’s Beast & Flood. By some enormous miracle, they’ve managed to tap into a realm of post-punk, where they can mine shifting time signatures, schizophrenic mood swings and balance between manic overblown guitar and delicate plucking.
Their new tune ‘All Singing, All Dancing’ is what I’d like to think would’ve happened to that niche area of alternative rock that And You Will Know… fit into nicely, if Pitchfork hadn’t gone and shot the expectations wildly high with that hyperbolic 10.0 review. After that people expected everything to be so goddamn precise and earnest that it didn’t make room for the heart-on-the-sleeve, blue collar-meets-good-guitar bands that Beast & Flood exemplify.
‘All Singing, All Dancing’ doesn’t sell its soul like all those bands of the 2004-2008 era did, it stands on its own as a furious tune that’s not quite furious, smart but not overbearing, and catchy without sacrificing anything. Just a solid fucking song, that’s all. Minus the Bear should take some notes from these guys and see if they can return to their ‘Menos el Oso’ days.
Jonathan Boulet’s latest album ‘Gubba’ is a fucking tour de force. It makes sense that the lead clip from such an album would include motorbikes, aka the thing that Lemmy Kilmister eats for brekky aka the most badass thing ever.
Only problem is that these blokes have got no fucking clue how to ride a motorbike. They’re even worse at riding those two-wheeled demons than I am at not getting asked for ID at every venue ever. Whilst Boulet provides a harrowing soundtrack of tunes ready to shred your braincells to, these bastards can’t quite figure out how to work the kickstand. Not saying I could do better though – if you put me next to a motorbike, I’d probably die without having even turned on the engine. So, good on ya fellas!
I wanted to post this a couple days ago, but my Internet’s been fucked, so my yearning to hear the revamped Terrible Truths track went unacquainted. UNTIL NOW! Worth the wait? You fuckin’ betcha!
Terrible Truths have got members all over Australia, so its a wonder that they’ve managed to get together and record an upcoming LP, to be released through the always reliable Bedroom Suck Records. Some keener peeps might even recognise that ‘Lift Weights’ has actually already been released on a 7″ a while back, but this is a re-vamped version. A little more frantic, a little more purpose and stride, ‘Lift Weights’ showcases that one of ‘Straya’s finest purveyors of indie-rock/post-punk are gearing up to release what’s guaranteed to be one hell of an album.
Oh, Julia Roberts! Oh, Hugh Grant! I’ve always known that you were….The One!
That’s probably the kind of shit you’re thinking of when the words The One pop up. Either that, or your a Matrix fan (FUCKING NERD!). Fuck that, you should be thinking about this amazing tune from Melby’s Miss Destiny. It’s rougher than getting kicked out of a bikie bar, and there’s enough fuzz on here to strangle even the most experienced porn actor from the 1970’s. ‘The One’ is so fucking awesome because it has no aspects of trying to be cool, and yet it succeeds at the task harder than James Dean with his arm draped around Kim Gordon, wearing nothing but a leather jacket and chewing an unlit cigarette. That is what cool looks like, and ‘The One’ beats that. Fuck. Me.
Milwaukee Banks may be new, with just a recent EP to their name, but their already creating more waves than a water Pokemon on its home turf. Sure, they’re Australian, but besides a slight accent, they’re more akin to proteges of DOOM or Madlib.
Their new video for their track ‘Hazy’ shows this, as Edo and Dyl rap in black and white, as the focus of the camera wobbles, giving the effect of being trapped in the eye of a dope ass hurricane. Visually, there is a whirlwind aesthetic that lines up very nicely with their brand of top-notch hip-hop.
Alex Cameron, the frontman of Seekae and a stunner of a solo musician in his own right, is the saviour of music. Piracy is ruining the industry, most bands can’t get paid, but it’s cool: Alex Cameron is taking care of business. TCB baby, TCB.
‘Taking Care of Business’ was one of the highlights from Alex Cameron’s solo debut, that was released late last year. In a record of 80’s synth tunes, packed with brilliant nods to a man in the midst of his undoing, ‘Taking Care of Business’ shined as a soul-wrenching song that would tear your heart out if mp3’s had the physical capacity to reach into one’s ribcage.
The video for said song is no-less gut-wrenching. Beautifully filmed, coming off like those karaoke scenes from that ‘Only God Forgives’ movie, Alex Cameron dances like he’s a stand-in for Jamie Lee Curtis in ‘True Lies’, only instead dressed in a Miami Vice extra outfit. His moves and vocal pain are so much, they cause him to stare down the barrell of a gun, and yet he keeps building and building, jerking his body like Ian Curtis in the throes of soul-crushing depression.
Seriously, one of the best songs to be released out of Sydney now has a clip that does it complete and arresting justice.
I’ve heard this song about a million times, because I’m a) better than you, and b) it’s the second track on Bad//Dreems double A-side 7″ they released a couple months back. They’ve also played the shit out of it at their last few gigs, and it always goes down a fucking treat, like scotch and ice cream whilst watching a sneaky episode of The Wire on a Monday night.
On record, as opposed to the Baddies always thrilling, high-octane live show, ‘My Only Ffriend’ allows for some raspy as sandpaper on a sore throat vocals, whilst morbid guitars plug the track throughout. Goddamn, if you think you’re having a bad day, just chuck this on, and let ‘My Only Friend’, a song that’s got its head stuck permanently in the neck of its tenth beer, run its course through you.