A collaborative writing effort across five-tracks of dirty, dark melodic post-hardcore goodness, Glass is the follow up to the band’s debut EP Fervour/Further which dropped in 2021. The Cardiff based band have been going from strength to strength since their initial formation back in 2017 and were only momentarily hampered by the pandemic, managing to use their time wisely to hone their sound.
And it’s a pretty huge sound. The band stated they wanted to work with “an experienced producer with a passion for heavy music” and Sam Blighe at Unlucky XIII Audio in Bristol was clearly a solid choice. The production values and mastering are an impressively high standard for an independently produced record.
Opener ‘Possession’ – with its classic metal style driving riff – is possibly the heaviest of the five but isn’t necessarily an indication that more of the same is to come. ‘Glass’ is a varied and developed collection which shows just a hint of the potentially great things to come from PARLA.
Rolo Tomassi have been criminally overlooked almost their entire career; it was only with 2015’s Grievances and 2018’s Time Will Die And Love Will Bury It that truly started to change. That was also a time of great upheaval for the band as their sound began a significant metamorphosis from glitchy, electronics-laden mathcore to a far more expansive, cinematic scope. Now at last to complete the unofficial trilogy, Where Myth Becomes Memory arrives to not insignificant hype and expectations – and surpasses all of them.
Softly, ‘Almost Always’ enters in a haze of guitars and Eva Korman’s ethereal voice glides in as she croons “It’s all returning / To the start / It could be different / But it’s not”. The effect is immediate; pulled from one world and into theirs. As the song progresses, a yearning piano melody enters before distorted guitars crash in; it’s not heavy, though, not in the typical sense. Instead they trade in an emotional weight that means the song is felt, not just heard, as it tugs at the heartstrings.
From the morose undertones of the 2015 ripper Copacetic through to the 2020 full length 20/20 the band have gone from strength to strength both live and on the record. Retaining such a diehard fan base across a discography of such immense proportions is a skill that not many in the field possess – but we aren’t dealing with just any band of players when looking at this specific release.
Knuckle Puck are taking us on a trip down memory lane with a brand new EP scheduled for release this Friday via Wax Bodega records. Five tracks in length Disposable Life contains the raw energy of a band still driven by their infancy, and despite being twelve years into a widespread career it’s clear that it’s members have never lost the love for their craft. It’s a deep dive into the psyche of its creators – with the concept of living ‘a meaningful life’ called into question, whilst at the same time counter balancing intimate undertones with the feel good sound for which the band are so revered.
Writing outside of the boundaries of label pressure have allowed the band a chance to take stock of what their music means to them and in the words of vocalist Joe Taylor ‘bridges the gap between KP sounds of past and present’, which is sure to be a thrilling statement for any potential listener waiting eagerly for release day to reveal what’s under the covers. Whilst some may dispute that this may not be a collection of the bands strongest material: there’s no doubt it’s cohesive, with a huge sense of nostalgia underpinning the records entire foundation.
Yes, it’s gross. It’s unappetising, unpleasant and ugly. But Cassels are a band that share such characteristics and adjectives, at least sonically. Across two LP’s and a sting of EP’s the sibling duo have become widely known as a unit devoted to creating discordant and sardonic post-punk for the cynics and misanthropes among us, the population scorned and abandoned by a world gone cold. Their last full length, 2019’s The Perfect Ending, encapsulated this fully. Across the nine songs that composed that record, the brothers Beck waxed lyrical on humanity’s self-destructive nature prior to summarising that, quite possibly, the ideal way for the world to heal was for us to die out first.
Of course, a lot has changed since that record – and not for the better. It would be easy and expected for Cassels to double down on the pessimism and acrimony whilst also simultaneously sharpening their lacerating take on the genre. But of course, Cassels are anything but conforming. A Gut Feeling, their latest record, ultimately does see the band sharpening their blades, yet it also see’s the band redefining their sound and thematic focus. The dry humour, bleak wit and scalding noise-marred post-punk of before remains, but there’s more textures in play, more instruments brought into the fold, and rather surprisingly, more delicate tenderness. The end result is Cassels’ most varied, expansive and interesting work to date.
The most evident change in the band’s sound is the lyrical concept. Whereas the focus of their previous long plays where on shortcomings on the human race, here the record probes the more vulnerable and nuanced sides of humanity with an engaging narrative structure. Following on from the pulsating ‘Your Humble Narrator’ – an opener that showcases the band’s more expansive sound in a way that sounds akin to a noise-clad post-punk re-imagining of a Soulwax track – the album is presented as seven slices of ordinarily bleak modern life, with each track peering into the flaws, insecurities and tribulations of a different character. It’s a left turn from the band, but it’s one that allows Cassels to animate their fantastic lyricism and flow in a way that’s throughly engaging and limitless in scope.
Since 2013, the Sheffield trio have steadily built a reputation in the European sludge scene for their ardent eclecticism. Sludge is typically perceived as existing in singular drab colour, but Kurokuma offer an alternative kaleidoscopic take on the genre that is enhanced and cut with vibrant, fatal, psychedelia. Some NOLA patched types may scoff at a band daring to fuse these genres – often seen as worlds apart both sonically and aesthetically – but what makes Kurokuma truly remarkable is how seamlessly they splice and amalgamate these two genres, without compromising either. Their initial handful of EPs demonstrated this wonderfully, with their 2019 effort Sheffield’s Best Metal Bands Vol. 1 grabbing the attention of infamous electronic label Off My Nut Records, but it’s their debut long play Born Of Obsidian that demonstrates their truth in a way that’s inarguable.
Born Of Obsidian is a concept record exploring the ancient Mesoamerican civilisations; while the majority of concept albums serve to tell a narrative, this record serves as the direct conduit back into Aztec and Olmec cultures. ‘Smoking Mirror’, the record’s opener, begins the trip. Drinking in the opaque and congealed sludge, Jacob Mazlum’s roared vocals become less human and more bestial, the inherent psychedelia less ambient and more metaphysical. The esoteric violence less conceptual and more frighteningly imminent.
Paralysis sees Led By Lanterns wear their hearts on their sleeves from the get go thanks to its focus on mental health struggles. The themes flow through anxiety, helplessness, the diminishing of relationships and relying on those around you to lift you back up, making for a thought-provoking listen (for the most part).
Although describing themselves as a rock band, there is an overpowering pop-influence throughout, relying on Shaun Hill’s high ranging vocals and ever-present enhancements from production. However, the two tracks which delve the deepest into this genre are the most controversial. ‘Criminal’ and ‘DXWN’ fall short not because of their attempt at melding the two sounds, but simply due to a lack of originality or creativity. ‘Criminal’ fails to give any unique flair and features uncomfortable levels of autotune which is just jarring, yet its grand, upbeat choruses do redeem the dull verses.
Just as ‘Criminal’ sounds too similar to Normandie than one would like, ‘DXWN’ sees a mimicking of tropes that are common in Don Broco songs. It’s undoubtedly intriguing with its off-the-beat rhythms and big hooks, but the repeated lyrics “Is it going down? I feel it, if you don’t wait a minute girl, I don’t wanna waste your time, but you’re telling me bye bye” ruin the serious and sincere tone already set. While Don Broco do write similar lyrics themselves, let’s not normalise it.
