RANT - RISE OF THE IDIOTS

A message came through via the e-mail mush and I discovered that there was a new release from the label that is Deadlamb Records.  This label have been supporters of DIY, the Fungalised cause and many fine bands.  The lads at the helm are gems, they do what they do with unassuming humbleness and great passion, it goes without saying I was intrigued and of course enthused.  Rant are from Belfast, throw in many styles and come up with an 11 track CD here.  My spore-sodden  digits were soon at the keyboard, here is what I typed out.

Openings from the silent void are had, 'Too Close To Home' swings in with great gusto and sanguinity.  A full-blooded push with neatly gruff and blow vocals adding the final layer to a good tiering of racketeering.  Pacey without being reckless, melodic without being poppish, well blended whilst avoiding things too processed, I find this a good foundation layer with plenty of street-based cobble stoning and a catchy edge that will soon have the punters singing along.  Neat and tidy work and leading into the swift bass-twist and power thrusts of 'Generations'.  This is a more brutalised song with a harsher, meaner edge.  The frustration with a status quo of prejudice and failure hammers forth with the brief chorus terse and snagging.  The band waste no time here, the whip is cracked, the boot-hoofing, bollock-busting angst and aggression works well in a number that packs a muscle-pulverising punch.  I think the liquidity of the attack is the key to this songs success - a flurry to reckon with.

'Demons comes and follows the set suit, an opening gambit sets the stage in tranquil and thoughtful tones before the kecks are hiked up, the pace is increased and the hollering tyrant at the fore gets enough sonic fuel rammed up his jacksie to get him duly roaring.  Battles against addiction, falling and failing with dust downs attempted all get given thought as the song unfolds and slaps itself against ones attentive sensors.  A fair do, completing an opening hat-trick of some prowess.

I crack the whip and try and keep the flow going - 'Paddy's Curse' has a very orthodox opening strain with a tonal quality best described as 'amiable'.  The life of the song is enhanced by the pebble-dashed gob work and the clean cut segue into the chorus chunk.  The overall mush is mid-paced, consistent and solid - there are no zeniths, no nadirs - we get a constant steady rattle of routine rhythm-making with a feeling of the band not breaking sweat or taking any risks - this is a good and questionable thing but the song does work.  'The Brink' rumbles in, plays a good hand and keeps the ship sailing steady.  Matters surge ahead, a snarl is saliva laden and the band are unified as per.  Personally I want a little more danger as I have heard many similar offerings, all of equal quality and musical erudition.  This band are good, they are gonna win many fans and create many potential highs but, they need not overproduce what they do and they must make sure they lose none of the coruscating clobber factor.  I like this, of course I do, but I am hankering after more.  I reckon in the 'live' arena this, and all the other songs, will take on a whole new lease of life.

The trend is set, the quality is enhanced with the volume button cranked to the max.  'Turn My Head' begins with slightly glassy tones before throttling away and garnishing matters with oral relish.  The first verse has a superfluity of industry and vim, the continuation is incessant and the band produce perhaps the best track of the lot here.  The chorus is of the sub-variety and almost non-existent. This well-planed and acoustically athletic number runs at a steady pace and negotiates all manner of unnecessary barriers.  A minor bass dictated sing-a-along section, a flow to the last - done and dusted with all doubts busted.  A good boozing song follows with 'Two Bottles Down' completing a joyous double act without going overboard or venturing into waters off-kilter.  Again, I always want danger and dabbling but this brace, if taken as a standalone marriage, works in great unison and sets a new standard to the whole CD.  Positioned in the midst of a wealth of good musicianship these uncomplicated numbers, with all their obvious traits, still hit the mark - that is down to the exactitude and insight of the players - nothing more, nothing less.

The last four - I spring to the finale of the review to keep thee intrigued (well, here's hoping).  'The Burden' taps in, takes an easy stroll and slowly blooms.  Tonal petals unfurl, gristle-dripping vocals and a steady serenade comes, in homage it seems to a real sufferer but a real die-hard defier.  A very impacting song, the band seem to get the best out of themselves when playing at this mid-range pace but hey, the band are no duffers and do display a great wealth of quality.  This one will cross many borders, as will the whole CD - on we go.  'My Pride, My Roots, My Street' and 'Forgotten Road'  both tunefully entrance, are just above middling songs that have a good feel and an essence that will appeal to the Sparrer Boys and those of similar melodic entrapments.  The standard is very high but I can take or leave these tunes or indeed play in the midst of more obscure and angular offerings.  The expertise and clarity of delivery is rock solid, I can't get excited about every track I hear and although these are of a very lofty standard, I remain sober.

We close with the almost apocalyptic sounding 'All Day Negative Long' - a long drawn out orchestrated piece that sets out the scenario and atmosphere before clobbering along in delicious fashion and making for a hefty track of stark reality that really does hit home.  The whole shebang is fucked, it seems to get worse by the day as the idiots rise and multiply.  This is a real thumping closure that brings out the best in the band.  Authority-laden accents, neat tonal touches, great aggression and an invasive unrest make this a punctuation mark slapped down with a wealth of intensity.  Plenty of throb completes the job and the 'Rant'ing rebels sign off with justifiable glory.

So, that is my take - honest, transparent, encouraging and positively critical in the hope of encouraging folk to investigate and to keep the band on their toes.  It is a concrete release with great muscularity - dare you take the plunge?

GONE FERAL - UNLEASHED

As the e-mail service does what it does I receive nudges from all manner of sonic dealers - I can only do so much.  I am now at a stage where I have to pick and choose as I have done over 1800 CD reviews and I am lug-buggered, guilty of having heard too much and perhaps in danger of acoustically overdosing in too many similar realms.  I play, consider and then pass or process - I liked this one from the off, a review seemed ready to spill, and spill it duly did.  

Again, I know fuck all as regards the band, I did pilfer the following info from Facefuck - 'New wave punk echoes from a time of better music with a stomping rock twist and a cheeky disco beat. Based in the UK'.  This is enough, and I can do what I do hopefully, untainted.

'Why Should I Care' is a fuckin' banger that doth drop no clanger.  The weight of the weaponry, the choice femme-fury throat attack and the general heavy-duty force of matters is mightily impressive and played without leaving me time to settle and survey.  The blend of all components is immaculate, the louder one plays the one realises we are in the midst of inescapable tonal talons and the thought of being utterly shredded is no bad things.  A power-laden beast with a watertight delivery that radiates defiance and hope.  What an outrageously good start - I am already salivating for more. I expect the second track to be a let-down, not so - 'Doggerel' is a beauty with a great swing in the hips and a real connecting vibe.  The vocal style hits the spot (when these lasses get it right they can't be beat) and the back racket is utterly bang on and gives the throat donator a great stage on which to shine. This is a collaborative effort though and drums, bass, guitar - all combine with great effect and make for a dramatic and fluent bout of good racket engineering - what a combo!

Third up, ‘Change’ - the accelerator stress is eased, we have a more simplistic song but man the way it prowls and predates your inner resistance is both sublime and astoundingly impressive.  The band know what they are trying to do, the production values are at a mesmerising zenith and those glass light tones that shimmer and glimmer with life-affirming animation give this track a real flavour boost.  Is this my fave track so far, no way!  Why - because I fuckin' love this opening hat-trick in equal measure and each track compliments the others with unquestionable certainly.

Further into the mush I go - 'Beetroot' survives on bass, tympanics and mouth as well as a great spartan accent before threat, malevolence and determination take the reins and the guitar jumps in and sets the scene ablaze.  No great pace is injected but it doesn't need to be - there is a predator at work here, a huntress on the look for a likely victim.  There is a vital essence of something 'Iggified' here, a dog that wants to be yours, transformed into a jowl-juiced jaguar that will not take 'no' as an answer.  A very sable promise from the depths of DIY desire where many will be hypnotised and consumed.  Another superb inclusion and taking us into 'Irrelevance' with just aplomb.  This latest track pounds in with a routine stick rhythm before sharded strings add texture and the banshee bails out her now recognisable tonsil tones.  I am unsure by the opening throes but soon dragged back to the realms of highly convincing rhythm by an exciting attack of 'get off yer arse' warning.  All silence is damned into oblivion as the soundscape is saturated by a song laden with the fear of not doing enough whilst the cruel hands of Father Time pilfer.  Despite the terror there is a relaxed interlude of guitar wanking exhibitionism that makes sure the flow  continues, we return to stage zero and come full circle - crafty.

'Smack And Crack' ups the warble factor, blurs the line between reality and fantasy whilst upholding a perilous edge to the entire shebang.  This is the most 'off the leash' track so far and walks a very precarious line between the stable and the uncontrolled.  A spit-soaked, nasty bastard essence comes with an almost suicidal abandonment always lurking in the shadows.  I remain enthused, intrigued but, also at this stage, on the edge of my rickety seat.  Music is always better when trust is trashed - watch yourselves folks, this is sneaky sonica liable to push you over the brink - yippee.  

Into the last quartet, 'Lamb Rock' has a real orthodox feel, ticks many obvious boxes and has many inklings of old-school punk and, may I add, gentler rock.  This is a recipe made to invoke the wrath of the Fungal boot (a kind kick never did anyone any harm) but again I am forced to submit to the demands of my honest ethos and hail this as another enjoyable, healthy and kicking tune with yet more sublime threat.  Yes - I have heard it all before and recognise many of he touches but man, this creation is a job done well and brings a smile to my face yet again.  Applause, applause - hitch up your draws - there are still 3 numbers left.  

I am all ears when I listen to 'Eyes' and am expectant of the same standard that has gobsmacked me thus far.  hesitant bass, a Pasti-esque strum, and then the waltz begins.  Metronomic beats dictate, statements are laid down, a submission comes.  A slow creeper this with no unnecessary bangles or bollocks dangled just for the hell of it.  Power still reigns supreme, a tight stranglehold number that bends down, bends backwards and still has an irresistible strength.  This is almost like a sanguine laden pose-down - with all muscles flexed and showcased for those already smitten - and now my peepers are all agog too.  'Bully' is a bout of defiance, a foot-planted effort that will not be broken.  This is now par for the course music which all sounds quite negative but... it isn't.  The course traversed is of a high standard and to stick to the tonal territory trespassed is no mean feat - the band do it with aplomb.  This is a cementing layer between hefty bricks of immovable density and the more I play it the more I appreciate.  One to stick with and apply a little more cranial effort with - it is very much worth the concentration.  Compact, leak-proof and as tight as a gnat’s chuff.

'Rochambeau' brings matters to their conclusion and is, I personally think, the most complex, erudite and challenging track on the CD.  A veritable grower that doesn't have the initial impact of its counterparts but one which grows from a cauldron of suffering mixed-up love and rises to become something firm, tangible and wholeheartedly passionate.  The sober start, the rising emotion and the sub-skank essences all make for a piece to toss around the palate whilst in a seriously contemplative mood.  This is a punctuation mark to a very bold statement that is the bands first album - they have set a very lofty standard.

I sign off, I have the first major contender for 'Album of the Year' - it really is a mighty affair that has many layers and is mixed and presented to an exacting standard.  I said 'wow' earlier in the review. I repeat 'wow, wow and fuckin' wow'!

GENTLES - MAKR YOUR OWN SCENE

Just a 2 track sojourn into the fascinating realm of the Gentles, a band that tickle the senses in their own unique way whilst bringing joyous jig-inducing delight to the cranium amid a wonderland of varied influences and sub-suggestions.  I waste no time here, the brace is tackled as per.  If thy be up to speed with these reviews you will know where the band are swinging from and how the fuck I operate.

'Make Your Own Scene' is sage advice, it rumbles in on quiet bassism and with an opening suggestion that many need to take heed of (the idle gits).  Matters become exciting as the guitars become statically charged and the drums slap away with increasing zeal.  The post-punk feel accentuates and accelerates with matters taking no definitive form and becoming a sweet malleable mush that goes with the ad hoc flow.  Never fear though, melody, intrigue and organisation are all maintained into a feisty number with great depth and many manoeuvres to keep one pondering.  There is texture and tune, the band know their artform and deliver it with a passion and a vibrant vigour - this one gets better by the rotation, it is a real strong mover.

'Librarians At The Gate' is more of an acquired taste with many jingles and jangles amid a jarring jaunt of reactive noise-making that never really settles into one consistent mode of operation.  The fact remains though that all areas are clear, a mystery is created and a danger is prevalent throughout.  It is by the sheer determination of the band that matters stay on track and of course, the players skill and insight helps matters no end.  Again, the first listen leaves one detached, the next few aural drop-ins cultivate a little interest, the more one investigates the greater the end rewards.  For angles and awkwardness this wins the day but it does come second to the previous offering which I do like a lot.

Two tracks, one hit, one that I can take or leave (dependant on where the head is at).  Gentles do have a knack for provoking interest in all its forms and like or loathe, there is still something within the weave that stops one from sticking the assessing boot in.  The band are riddled with quality - my time here is well spent.

ARMOURED FLU UNIT - CARNYX

Formed in 2016, this band stride forth in a purposeful, no-nonsense way with the foot pressed down hard on the accelerator and a with a gravel-spraying intensity that will definitely attract the perverts of lug pain.  Things are not overly harsh though and so, those on the periphery of things roughhouse will also be drawn into the fray and will be perhaps, pleasurably roughed up. Grow Your Own Records is the label helping showcase the sound here, they do what they do mighty well.

'Inertia' is the opening decibel damager and from a maelstrom of electric activity comes composure, drive and a heads down zoning in.  The sticks are swift, slapping and sprightly whilst the wire work is rapid, in cahoots and tightly delivered.  Over the top comes the semi-scorched snarl that falls into the mush with gratifying ease and makes for a solid, regular riff searing that may be nothing new but which still does what it does with solid aplomb.  The rapid-fire apocalyptic speedburst moments are a bonus.  'Hidden Face' follows in a more considered manner before a pause and a thrashing explosion comes in more orthodox hardcore manner.  All players are hammering in unison, plenty of muscle is stretched, all rattled forth from a precipice and with the gnashing spit-sneer at level max.  Strong noise of a certain ilk that some days I love and some days I leave for more angular/melodic/contrasting offerings.  This and the chasing 'Supplicant' make for a sweat-inducing duo that will force those already in the groove to perspire with increasing enthusiastic peril.  Verse posted at 100mph, the sub-chorus as simple as they come and all operations cranked up to Notch 10 and this third track is definitely not one to play when looking to chill.  The chug and riff make this latter track what it is - nasty man.

Next up and the best so far, 'Thorn In The Claw' instantly grabs, holds on and crushes.  The magnetic melody and overall tear up is mid-paced, strategic and of inescapable quality.  The words are more stated than previously dished out, the overall musicianship kept on the leash and the sublime threat levels possibly more sinister and dangerous.  I really like this one, a tension filled outburst with a very suspicious sonic blade brandished - it cuts deep baby.

'Hostile Environment' - bass bumbles, in sync six-strung escorts and a scatter arrangement of skin work before the gob comes, lays down a viewpoint in a sober and somewhat stated way before the impetus is picked up and the anger simmers.  This is an easy song to get into, is a repeat routine of ill-temper with the intolerant fuckwits who can't accept - I like it, it is rather obvious and basic but it works and gets its point across.

'Nothing Sticks' has a great Motorheaded feel, it thunders with high intensity with the gob at the fore making sure we have a street-based honesty and approachability.  A full-on kick back against the useless pricks who don't take heed and move on regardless.  A real thumper this with no apologies made, I need add no more.

'Charged Up' follows the routine set and is as sound as a pound but I would have like a little something extra (and different) at this stage.  Just me, I like bands to keep one guessing and although as a stand-alone, this is concrete material, as part of the pack it just becomes another brick in a very sturdy wall.  The band do it well, I am a mere honest reviewer trying to squeeze a little more out of these sonic stones. 

3 left, 'Feudal County' is a kick up the arse for the thieving cunts that take, destroy and deny.  A straight-forward snarl that is unhappy with the fucks that are another nail in the coffin of the great outdoors.  It seems the pleasant pastures and arenas of the miraculous are destined to disappear as neglect, ignorance and stupidity win the day.  This one is a very annoyed upchuck that falls in line with a very watertight and hammering CD. 'A. I.' speaks for itself, you know the score, idle heads allow plasticity to take over and thus help finish the human race as a free, thinking and 'real' race.  As per, it is all self-inflicted - silly cunts.  This is a song that rattles along, quick verse, basic and impacting chorus and sub-chorus that grab the lugs and get one joining in.  The final death march is doom laden, think on and accept the situation you helped create - idleness, apathy and the easy option all kill.

We fuck off with the title track, 'Carnyx' - a threat, a horrorshow, a deep rooted hardcore snarl and slap laid bare under gathering storm clouds of rising passion that are ready to burst.  A stabilising song, a final punctuation mark that relies on incessant rage and that bleak feeling.  This is not my fave moment, it just lacks the killer punch and snagging hook, it is a rising fat-pig of rebellion though, ready to salivate and bite and tear the fuckers asunder - that is no bad thing.

A gristle-laden slice of musical flesh here, a dripping carcass full of goodness that will satisfy the voracious appetite of the HC hungry and those who like their tonal treats with a wallop.  With an abundance of experience the band know what they are doing, it is certainly evident here.

HAEST - WILDFIRES

Firstly let me remind you of the label that is responsible for yet another heavy-duty release (as taken from Bandcamp) - '5FeetUnder Records is a Danish DIY, non-profit record label.

The label has no employees – only a bunch of creative volunteers who do whatever they can, whenever they can. The label has no boss or owner and no one involved has a definite role; everyone who feels he/she has any contribution to make is free to help out'.  Now isn't that choice?  The band are from Hastings in the UK and are of a cut that I very much expect.  I am happy to leave it there and just do what I do, I am perpetually snowed under, gimme a break peeps, this is DIY honesty in action, nothing more, nothing less.

We commence with the kerfuffle splatted down under the slag tag of 'If You Don't Think Killing This Planet Is Worth 7 Jesus Lizard Albums Then You're An Idiot' - a composite that creeps in with malevolence and a somewhat clayey cum oozing leaning.  A slow molten brew that states its case in a roundabout way rather than getting to the point.  I have heard a million similar gruel grinds and find nothing here to harden my pimples of pleasure but - the muscles flexed are solid, the compact feel to the song works and the exactness of the application and end mix is spot on, it just isn't for me.

'Did They Ever Find Out Who Let The Dogs Out' is a better beef blaster with great weight thrown forth against the tympanic membranes of the luggite and thus making for a higher impacting holler-show that is clobbered well and of a very hurtful level.  When the band are flowing there is great success, when the band drift, so do I.  I like this second slab of hard-roasted meat, it spits and sizzles and has depth although what the actual content is about is beyond me - poetical ambiguity, it can be a curse, it can be a blessing.

Track 3, 'Have You Not Seen History' is ground out through a gravel pulverising machine that will not be disobeyed.  There is a forthright demand that is only accentuated when the stated words are spilled.  The authoritarian delivery, the deliberate damnation of all areas and the observation of crimes that still corrupt all contribute to a very slamming and somewhat cement-footed execution.  A very dense and overwhelming track, perhaps the best of the lot.

'You Can't Hear Canoe' follows, another shouted and exacting tonal outburst borne upon a conveyor belt of regimented sound and highly shackled grinding.  The deliberate approach and use of chugging riffery works as a substrate upon which the growling shoots of ill-temper can blossom.  Here the identity of the band is found, they seem to have their own modus operandi and motif, copulated into a brew that is designed to bruise.  This number has a sneaking threat, you best beware.

The last two, 'Making A Pigs Era Of A Mole Hill' pounds in with good swing before adopting the usual Haest-ian approach.  The fluidity of the fuckery helps, the roaring gobbage and the usual chuggage all give those ensnared a further reason to stay put and avoid the 'stop, release and escape' button.  I am not sure about the inner sludge/soundbite inclusion, it hinders matters and I would have preferred an arse-ripping speedburst but, this is a personal slant, there is no doubt the band do what they do mighty well. I regard the final outburst as the icing on the cake, a really healthy thrust of well-paced slam-dunking with the thought processes working well, the disgust levels obvious and the rage well-harnessed so as to keep things listenable and lucid.  There is a relish dripping, a passion spit-splatting, the band resort to the usual fixed and expressive methodology and we have a winner on which to punctuate a decent CD.

Haest set out to get one thinking and get one twinging with aural pain - I think they garner some degree of success with this approach and overall the job ain't half bad.  I would like to see the band throw in a few 100mph rattlers on their next release, a release that I hope is another EP mixed to the same standard - in the meantime this will serve them well and should get them a gig a two.

GENTLES - SOFT HANDS

Another 6 tracks from the Australian outfit  who are on board with the Metal Postcards label and making sure their designs are getting out there and hopefully heard.  I have already immersed myself in a sextet of serenades and I was quite pleased with the plunging I took.  Here I hope for more of the same and a little extra.  A greedy guzzling soniceer I be!

'What Has Happened Here' briefly thrums, ups the gusto and exudes initial energy flares before continuing into a power-sozzled guitar incessance that really does emanate great animation and vigour.  Eventually we enter the stripped down opening verse, it reminds me of post alternative/indie driftings, shot through with early DIY punkism and something poppoid.  The mix works, the banishment of the bare basics sees matters develop but all the while alternation between the clad and disrobed are had.  More elevations of joy are giving when the accelerator is floored and the band dash with impetus high - a very rewarding opener.  For me what comes next is a snippet of sublime sonic engineering done with an ear for a tune, an acoustic ringcraft and a focus not to be denied.  'Inkstains' opens with superb rock and riff authority, continues with a lucid application of vocalisation that works a treat with the clattered and battered soundscape set.  There is a loose and limp feeling to the delivery that fights against the watertight end product.  A totally embracing waltz that asks a simple question and seems to have no answer.  A wonderful indie-sozzled pop sound that cruises with assured comfort and a suggestion that will appeal to those with teenage angst. There is an added edge too that will lapped up by the grunged, spiked and perhaps more melodically inclined.  I rate this a real fuckin' stunner.

Interstellar radioactive emanations welcome before more post-punk advancements take centre stage as 'So Much For An Easy Life' rolls forth with a relaxed and open arrangement that really magnetises the attention.  Matters have an injection of pace, the front lout seems unperturbed and spills his lyrics with the unrushed sanguinity that works so well.  A suggestion of angst and fluttering accent and an escalation before we are left enchanted by an overall composite that is oblique and entertaining - another decent effort.

Statements come, the bass controls, a robotic sequence poetically narrates.  'Rainbird' is a defiant oddment with a slow rise into the meat of the sub-orthodox song that plays out at its own pace, is tattooed with Euro-elements and a distinctive under-the-radar awkwardness.  As matters develop the band free-flow and we reach new zeniths, albeit rather briefly.  This is a solid counterweight to that which has been and I find myself fully enthralled by something that I should question - strange and stunning in the same serenading breath.

Track 5, 'Over Toorak' begins with contemplative placidity, a semi-state of decision making.  The initial verse comes and has all the hallmarks of the band I am becoming groomed by as each ditty passes my lugs.  This is the most routine song so far, a creation awash with neatly flicked guitars, tidy tympanics and an all-round goodness.  The shift from the obviously thoughtful to the seemingly more carefree is a treat and again, my thumbs are raised with great positivity.

The closure is perhaps the weakest song of the lot and just outstays its welcome.  The salvation comes via the feisty explosive thrusts that go for a repeat holler backed by some hefty clobbering and watertight musicianship.  The cool switch comes, the contrast achieved, 'God' grows in stature but needs a little more eavesdropping  participation by the listener.  A steady grower this and one that may outshine the lot given time.  There is more happening than one may realise via one or two listens – take my advice, invest your time.

For me, this is an offering that really does the business.  I prefer these short snippets of sound, the EP is a marvellous thing that can satisfy, offer a great insight and just dangle a tempting carrot so as to get the panging juices of the listener flowing.  Great work all round and covering many spectrums of sound so as not to get suffocated by genre - this is the way!

RED OR DEAD - HURT

A folk punk band whom I have been delighted by in the past and one whom have been on a temporary hiatus for all manner reasons.  Previous listens revealed a cultured tonal display with many  aspects awash with considered touches and greatly effective lyrics.  This Welsh-based unit have had a slight change to the line-up, they are still alive and kicking against the pricks (in many ways I hope) and here is my take on another collection of pre-meditated ditties that are long overdue.

'Live A Lie' gets the CD rolling in exemplary style.  A quick tumble, clean cut confidence in the guitars and a gently emotive voice sees verse segue into chorus with such utter fluency and, may I had, touching beauty.  The heartstrings are being pulled, thoughts stretched and feelings tested - the situation is dealt with by players in-the-know and with a unity not to be underestimated.  The blend of tones is strongly mellow, the accuracy of the output spot on and all areas contribute to a very accomplished number that is a liquid lilt done in fine style.  Cracking!

Following on from this solid opener we get a tender tickle, some squelched guitars and a funky fuck warning to all the deadheads out there just thinking of what they can get and take now rather than what they can do to improve the future.  As a naturalist who is off his arse this is an admirable piece that points the finger at the most culpable species imaginable. 'Infestation' states facts, harsh as they may sound it is what it is - this damned human race is heading straight to oblivion and dragging a miraculous realm of unsurpassable species (and beauty) with it. I like the arrangement here, I adore the passion, the theme speaks for itself - it is a nice switch in delivery and as equally stunning as the first.

'Numb' tweaks, twangs, whispers with great emotive pressure.  Matters develop and blossom into a harmonised embrace that aides the track and lets it move on with greater passion, more holistic atmosphere and an all-consuming arrangement that brings to the fore suffering, defeat and a battle-weary soul who has had enough. A very touching song that thrives on its contrast effect and the exacting arrangement that has that all crucial fluidity and melody.

Vocals open, a chug escorts and then more ticker-based compulsions are applied with 'In My Head'. A smitten bout of serenading done with an inner turmoil and a feeling of overwhelming frustration.  Something obsessive rises to the fore, the crystal clarity of all components helps one look more closely at the intent - someone has been had, hook, line and sinker.  Again, a choice cutlet but... it is all over with far too quickly, a shame.

'Decontrol' comes next, a beautiful canvas splash of rebellious daubing done with an eye for detail, an insight into the soul-sucking blank that the creators of the regime will say is good for you.  The forthright guitars and sticks are straight at it, the gobbage is determined, warning and striving to stand firm.  A matter-of-fact march splattered with acidic spittle and some old school defiance is always welcome here.  The fact that I have nailed it on my site as 'Song of the Month' I hope backs up my words.

Chopping lucidity with a sound old school gutter-reggae feel, 'On It Goes' has a fine Jah and Jive as well as a sobered look at the basic stupidity of the human mess and its indulgence in a persistent loop of inescapable misery. Fear is the cause, self-loathing and a lack of self-belief, all custard coated with a slime of arrogance and pretence, humanity needs to learn.  This is a very cultured and multi-social score that should be enjoyed by all and sundry.  Generic divisions need be brushed aside, this is a great song to belong to all and to help all move on... as if?

'Wherever You Are Now' tenderly tickles, moves with care and is a contemplative croon created by a soul lost, in the midst of neither here nor there and in need of one’s true love.  Having been in a drunken haze in the middle of streets strange and unfriendly, with the body failing to follow the cranial orders, that feeling of wanting to be home, in the arms of the loved one and all safe and sound are all dragged to the fore via this very accomplished creation.  Again Red or Dead seem to cultivate their own inner knack and get the best out of it with the resultant bloom of a growth and composition all of its own.  This is another beauty cementing this CD as a 'fuckin' stunner'.

The final two and we begin with 'The Problem's Yours', a routine chugging inwards, a sublime threat is held in the air, the swoosh as the blade falls, words consider outlooks, an inner rage surfaces, a disgruntlement with a state of sway that is not working - we gotta keep on shouting folks and of course, doing!  This is a song that alters the thread of matters but remains in league with all the sonic stitchwork laid down so far.  The impact is not immediate, hang on folks, this one gets there and radiates its own solid values.

Closure time (boo, hiss), 'Parasite', ploughs forth, asks questions, poses us the thought that we are indeed victims.  Angers rises and strings twist whilst tympanics react.  A feeling is had of things only just in control whilst a metallic edge is brandished.  There is no rush with this one, the stated play is measured and the emotions not let fully off the leash.  Again the band slight alter tack whilst sticking to their political annoyance. The military march comes, pecks away until those ready to react become animated whilst those beyond hope carry on as normal - are you fuckin' listening?  The hardest song of the lot to fall in line with, but when you do, ah when you do!

So Red or Dead have, in the best way possible, fuckin' nailed it.  My Fungalised spores of appreciation have been forced to drop in myriad plumes whilst listening to this very erudite, thoughtful and resonating CD.  This is a unit doing it with political acidity, restlessness and a lughole for a good tune.  The blend of the spiked, the folked and the just plain old 'fuckin' angry' works a treat here, it is surely vying for album of the year, and will take some topping.

TANA DEL PIGRI - EP01

A band who were one thing, and now they are another - a different guise but more Avant Italo Pop with, so I believe, added strangeness for the plugged-in pleasure perverts who like their aural penetration to come from angles obscure.  Metal Postcard Records never fail to bring something new to the eavesdropping table and are always willing to dish out devilish discordance with an 'out-of-this-realm' capriciousness that will always divide the luggites.  5 tracks is the task, I don't know this new arrangement so the gung-ho spirits says 'have a fuckin' go'.

'Password' welcomes, with a very early gothic-punk sound, a place where Joy was in Divisions and where the seekers of the slightly extreme meandered.  This musical moulding has many Kraftwerkian touches too and other Euro-poppian elements that are dabbled with matters Devo-id.  It is all rather strange and brings to the helm of the cranium visions of regimented operators working out acoustic equations with focused intent.  There is nag within the noise, a incessance that works and a final surge that is a trifle abrupt. Futuristic, open-house experimentation - weird man, weird. 'Piper Swing' is hallucinatory ambiguity emanating from a subversive funfair of radioactive restlessness where the only remaining survivors are unhinged, mentally rotting but still able to summon creative juices and call for a help.  This sounds like the lunatic pleas of people on the cusp, a pantomime of subverted sound that generates interest in those with twisted outlooks.

'Qualcosa Nell'aria' is another misshapen tune, this time though with a more concrete inner scaffold of orchestration that gives the end erection something of an orthodox appearance.  Hendrix-esque string manipulations are thrown in amid the rantings and ravings and the other funky accoutrements - it is a rather intriguing mix that gets one thinking and maybe, grooving.

'Rocket To Mel' is a reclined number that seems to create its emanations from a prostate position of great consideration.  No steam rises from the brow, all muscular activity is easy, the verbal spillage (although indecipherable due to the language barrier) is almost liberally waffling whilst the back cruise of sound seems fuck-free.  Again I reach for the descriptive word known as 'oddity' – it all seems rather apposite.

'Stracci' is the best of the lot, Euro-pop artistry bounced out with a certain furrowed brow fun that has a delicious tomfoolery and jauntiness so as to give the song an inner innocence and somewhat spontaneous improv element that donates a little extra to the 'interest factor'.  Frivolous indeed, funky in some warped way and vitally uplifting, I consider this a fruitful full-stop.

From thoroughfares running away from the main sonic stretches where the more obvious labels are retailed, here comes a short trip for the curious.  Satisfaction comes, questions arise, the state of flux in itself is an achievement, the end result a quintet of quirks to occasionally reconsider.

MAGIC OF THE MARKETPLACE - JEALOUS MOON

The main man behind this release is a veritable doofer who gets his arse in gear and does with focus and good intent.  Having looked on the Bandcamp page I snaffled this info about the set up here - 'Featuring current and ex-members of Erase Today, Sonic Boom Six, Litterbug, Sick56 and One Way System. Always searching for great punk riffs and melodic energy'.  This may help some and get them intrigued, personally it means fuck all and the music shall be judged on what it is.  No sway, honesty all the way, DIY effort and with an approach to sum up what transpires and hopefully keep the band enthused and moving on to better things (if at all possible). So the Blackpool based blighters go under the Fungalised spotlight, and here are my valuable or useless thoughts.

'Jealous Moon' twinges, growls and sets a stage.  A tommy-gun roll, the song is underway with great guts exposed and taut sinews put to the test.  The lyrics are simple but have depth, the whole gist is of muscular tune striving to maintain good punching prowess, balance and of course, melody.  This is no easy task, the band are coming in from a spectrum outside of the blatantly obvious which can be a hindrance in this rather divided, pernickety and quite insulated realm of rhythmic labelling.  I find this a refreshing blast of ball-hoofing defiance with influences multifarious and animated.  The fact that matters are not overly complex but contain some neat touches and turns all makes for a concrete opener not to be taken too lightly.  This initial snippet is immediately slapped into place by the far more effective follow-up, namely 'Smile And Wave'.  This one has a great wealth of emotive content and contrast that leaves the listener wondering what the actual aim of the lyrical spilling is.  There is a cross-over of sensations, the whispers and the hollers combine to make a short and very effective cloudburst of ill-temper and disgruntlement with many fresh guitar outbursts adding that extra life sparkle - nice.

'Walls' begin with cultured tonality, pulses with care and progresses with a very post-punk (and beyond) ring-craft that eventually turns into a work-out laden with acoustic punches thrown from a variety of angles whilst not allowing the defences to fall and any gaps to appear.  Watertight, tuneful and with the added extra of not being overly obvious and routine.  The creative juices have been tossed around, these are not 5 minute wonders jacked off with haste and thrown forth for the Hell of it.  Time and effort has been invested, your initial patience may be tested, do not let your insight be bested, this is a grower with a firm grip.

We close with the self-questioning sub-sing-a-long shiner known as 'False Relationships' - a strong move and groove muscle flexer with the most catchiest arrangement of the lot.  Strength aplenty, a consistent clarity, a snagging strain and with a certain transparency that always aides the external levels of appreciation, this is a magnificent thoroughbred galloping over verdant pastures with a sublime control and focused direction.  Yes, by far the best song, it brings more to the table and opens up further thoroughfares - nice.

A quartet of songs that gives one something to think about, examine, enjoy and, particularly in the last instance, sing along to.   I think there may be something of an acquired taste needed for the more Cro-Magnon punker, then again, there is enough clubbing weight here to perhaps rattle their cages too.  

SALEM TRIALS - DATA MINER'S DAUGHTER

Metal Postcard Records and Salem Trials - a combo I have tackled several times and come out... well who knows?  I have 2 tracks here and am not fucking about, one has to maintain a fluidity and avoid repetition.  If you read my reviews you should know what is what on all fronts, here we go folks.

'Data Miner's Daughter' is a real sleazeball of snot, grot and wanked wired grind.  There is a vile crushing grimness going on, the snot-splat vocal style helps to maintain the overall feeling of pollution and ill-health.  The lyrical content smacks of self-doubt and a perplexing worry whilst the mechanics of the music machine continue regardless.  Again the Salem Trials will Divide opinion (STD - what else) and some may come away feeling pox-ridden and unclean, others may well feel baptised and born anew with this clank-wank kicker that does what it does, does it well and refuses to play with the ball of normality.  Not bad to be fair and we are soon dragged along into the more fluent but perhaps less sexually grating number known as 'Predatory Trait'.  This is more obvious matter and more reflective of what I have dealt with by this angular outfit. I find this one a sub-serenade for the anti-social blighter who has lost all tolerance for the maniacal mush and the selfish drive to who knows where - 'Fucksville' it seems. The impetus of this second snippet provides fuel for itself, finds an apt groove and sticks with it.  Under the surface tension we find a good rhythmic pulse and so, if you are immediately snagged, there is no escape... could this be a good thing?

Well, I have nipped in to territory where others fear to tread, the outcome is another few cerebral fuses blown and I am still left in a state of fuck-flux.  Say what you will, interpret my reviews whichever way you want - I keep coming back for more and my curiosity is perpetually aroused - I think this says a little more than what I rattle out on the digital board.