Self-described as ‘post post punk’, Cheshire-based GAS KÜNST is the project of three guitar players: Buzz Vanker, Dick Cable and Justin Case. For their debut four track EP, they’ve roped in Judy Jones (THE C33s) and Uncle Meat (Hanami Family) on vocals. “The music was recorded live straight to tape on a Fostex 28h and the drums come courtesy of a Roland 606 drum machine. The vocals were overdubbed in various make shift vocal booths and bedrooms on a single trusty SM58” (GAS KÜNST).
In a bedsit cluttered with musical equipment, the floor strewn with wires, assorted misfits hammer away on cheap guitars. Go-Go dancing backing singers wedge in between the wardrobe and bed, an ancient drum machine rattling away on the kitchen counter. This is how I picture GAS KÜNST.
Enlivened by a bargain-basement drum machine, the authentic 60’s aura of Do You Wanna Ride A Bike With Us? comes courtesy of a playful LOVE intro, garage freneticism, Arthur Brown vocals, and B-52‘s backing vocals. Loose Change is a whole different ballgame, but no less effective. Possessed of a compelling hook, this grimy, garage nugget grinds away like a lost STOOGES practice demo. PCSO No No No You’re Wrong, a catchy collision of THE REVILLOS and low budget 60’s psych, bows out with a brief surf-guitar line/backing vocal combo to kill for. Finally, 101 clocks in at just 75 seconds. During that hot minute, the ol’ Roland is set to ‘faster‘, the bass throbs, guitars switch from raw to jangly in the blink of an eye, and the vocals go a little Biafra at the end.
Much expense was spared here, as crucial an ingredient as any song written or note played. Low budget production elevates the elements I might not be drawn to – psych and 60’s influences, say – emerging as a delicious milieu of THE DESPERATE BICYCLES, B-52’s, and Pebbles Vol 1, propelled by a cut-price drum machine. How could you resist?
released in the UK via Rare Vitamin Records on cassette, CD and Mini CD on 29th January
I may be in too deep (heh), but what the hell. I like to think that the SUM41 flavour of the intro to DJ Salinger is intentional. The notion of taking a mainstream American punk anthem and twisting it into a typically English paen to ageing and insecurity, is too good not to run with.
The title went a long way to winning me over. I’m a sucker for a clever play on words and, while I may be way older than these Leedsters, I can also appreciate the lyrical sentiment of age shaving away the party spirit. Vulnerability shows in the music as well as the lyrics, most notably in the world-weary lead guitar and backing vocals toward the end, but there’s no taking away from that sprightly riff. Coupled with another of their trademark chorus hooks, it’s an oddly addictive mix that has its wicked way with you, even though you can’t quite figure out why. Topped off with a crisp production, this is the most polished they’ve sounded thus far.
The album The Hard Part finally sees the light of day in February. If their recent, curious clutch of singles is anything to go by, it should be a meaty proposition indeed.
Newburgh, NY’s BOBBY EDGE, ex-member of melodic punkers THE JUKEBOX ROMANTICS, seeks to escape the shackles of genre. Algorithm & Blues is without doubt unrestrained by tropes and rules, particularly of the punk stripe. So what to make of this enthralling wander through American musical history?
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t the Acappella BEACH BOYS-harmony intro (H.W.S.). Nor the unabashed, 50’s doo-wop sway of Momento Maury. Yep, you read that right. Somehow managing to sound simultaneously timeworn and fresh, this instant classic threw me right back to childhood, listening to my parents’ That’ll Be The Day soundtrack in the car. I mean, it ain’t punk, but I’m all over it. Just as you think you have it figured out, the indie-surf breeze of Endless Suffer shifts into breakneck, Summery skate-punk. A straight cover of FATS DOMINO‘s 50’s classic Ain’t That A Shame holds the tone, but, crucially, the short n’ sweet, country-twang harmony of Die Hard, Live Soft ushers in more surprises. Enter the snappy surf-punk of Calamity Of Now, transporting the band forward in time, though they’re still unable to resist ending with more of that delicious doo-wop. The Evil That Men Do, as well as being a beautifully written song, sounds like Americana DECEMBERISTS playing American Graffiti covers.
Out of nowhere, Civil Wart hits you with a two-minute blast of face-shredding, hardcore punk. I’ll say that again, in the context of reviewing an album rooted in 50’s doo-wop and rock n’ roll. Face-shredding hardcore punk. I know. Speed, aggression, gang shouts, runaway lead guitar, and, incredibly, they still manage to mix in the fuckin’ doo-wop on the chorus. It’s… genius. This confounding album ends on a high, with the 1-2 punch of the Phil Spector-penned Why Don’t They Let Us Fall In Love? (recorded by THE RONETTES), and the delightful Small Frog. The former sees the originals’ honking wall of sound swapped for a sprightly slice of chunky guitar doo-wop, the latter showcasing Bobby’s supreme songwriting chops. Small Frog is a timeless piece of meandering pop, with a soft heart and some rather lovely off-key moments. What can I say? It turned my knees to jelly and made me realise just how jaded I’d become.
Produced, mixed and mastered by John Naclerio (My Chemical Romance, Brand New, Autopilot Off, Just Surrender), who clearly understood exactly where BOBBY EDGE wanted to go, capturing just the right amount of 50’s dancehall nostalgia and modern crunch.
Doo-wop, hardcore, skate-punk, Americana, and rock n’ roll, all on one short album. Through all the unexpected twists, turns, and immense songwriting, an irresistible romanticism lies at the core of this love letter to American music of the past. I don’t know who it’ll be marketed at, but if you’re a big ol’ softy like me, I urge you to play it in full, mouth (and mind) agape. You might just fall in love with this joyous bag o’ treats. I know I did.
Blazing pop-punk meets mature emo-punk. Arizona meets Florida. Punks v Conservative Republicans. Whichever way you wanna peel it, this split EP, a benefit for the Tampa Bay Abortion Fund, represents the punk scene wading in and putting its money where its mouth is. Here’s the deal:
A release exclusive to Bandcamp, with all of the money we make going to The Tampa Bay Abortion Fund. It’s a pay-whatever-you-want release so if someone has a reproductive rights group closer to them or that they feel more strongly about, they can just donate directly to them and download the split without sending us any money.
release statement
rutterkin
Florida’s RUTTERKIN open up with the four-minute Grieving Cathedral. An unexpected intro of church organ-style keys and trés emotive vocals usher in a patient, mature piece of songwriting. Taking its time building to what can only be described as arena-emo-rock, don’t let that descriptor put you off this powerhouse of a song. Eveline, on the other hand, is a whole different slice of the emo pie. Fast, desperate, and stop-on-a-dime tight, with exciting guitar work and a poppy hook. Festcore, if you like. Gripping stuff.
pop icons
POP ICONS may be from Phoenix, Arizona, but their sound is rooted in gritty, Bay Area pop-punk, giving it a breathless, energised kick. The uber-catchy Hell And High Water, a nifty two minutes of mouthy, melodic punk, has a mammoth hook akin to THE BRIGGS. Pop Song Dialtones is all about GREEN DAY, and I get that that’s a dirty word nowadays, but fuck it. With a bouncy pace, a great lead solo and another abrasive anthem, what’s not to love? Both songs clock in at two minutes a piece, so they ain’t overstaying.
Ten years ago, this would have made it onto vinyl. There’s a possibility that tapes may appear at some point, but for now, here’s a rock-solid digital EP of compassionate punk rock that’ll take up ten minutes of your time. Go check it out.
Released on 7th October 2022, but I like it and appreciate the cause, so it gets past the time limit policy.
(COUCH POTATOES gig) sounded like a race to the bottom of a lift shaft
David Gamage’s mum
You might recognize the author’s name from such bands as COUCH POTATOES, JOEYFAT, RYDELL and, more recently, COME THE SPRING and THE ATLANTIC UNION PROJECT. It turns out that David Gamage, also the man behind Engineer Records, a label with over 300 releases to its name, has a story to tell.
From a DIY punk scene perspective, no stone is left unturned throughout these shelf-stressing, 650 + pages. Gamage’s discovery of punk and thrash metal in the 80’s leads to an obsessive passion for music, the hooks digging deeper as he plunges headlong into the DIY scene at the start of the 90’s. Anyone who has experienced that first gig will relate to the emotions felt during the band’s live debut, a warm, lucid recollection that nestles into the heart and soul of this book. Structurally though, this is an extended gig diary, with countless tangents and sidebars providing context and information, always orbiting around the core. Heavy with a sense of pre-internet communication, travel, and recording techniques, youthful adventures of playing gigs and making connections have clearly left their rose-tinted mark. Recording that first demo, starting a fanzine, and forming friendships with bands and labels, all memories revealed with remarkable clarity. There is a fascinating bleed-over from the late 80’s scene in many of the luminaries he crosses paths with: SOFAHEAD, BLAGGERS ITA, JAILCELL RECIPES, ex-HERESY members FORCE FED, Suspect Device ‘zine and First Strike Records, but also the newly emerging, in the likes of HEADWAY (later STAND ALONE), Armed With Anger and Subjugation Records, his own Scene Police label and the nascent emo and straight-edge hardcore scenes. Along the way, he gives as much time to local bands (BBMF’s brief dalliance with potential boy-band stardom is priceless) as the ‘big hitters’. And there are so many stories. Tales of Southampton’s fiercely DIY STE collective, COUCH POTATOES supporting GREEN DAY on their legendary 1991 tour, including a soundcheck with Mike and Tres, the 100% sustainable Worthing Green festival (electricity generated by ageing hippies pedalling bicycles), enduring the baptism by fire of hellish Euro-squats, meeting SAXON at a service station, and arguing with Ray Cappo about religion. Even fanboy tales of GANG GREEN, BEASTIE BOYS, PUBLIC ENEMY, CONFLICT, UK SUBS and ICE-T gigs are told with alacrity.
joeyfat
When a restless Gamage forms JOEYFAT, he finds himself immersed in the burgeoning emo scene, bumping up alongside BOB TILTON, MONTH OF BIRTHDAYS, IRONSIDE, TRIBUTE, BABY HARP SEAL & SPY VS SPY. It’s worth pointing out here that the book is awash with an almost overwhelming amount of relatable material: bands like THE TONE, GUNS N’ WANKERS, DOWN BY LAW, GOOBER PATROL, TRAVIS CUT, BOB TILTON, ALLOY, BURNING AIRLINES, IMBALANCE, BLOCKO, PYLON, ANNALISE, BROCCOLI, DISCOUNT and JETS VS SHARKS, labels like Armed With Anger, Subjugation, Boss Tuneage, Cat n’ Cakey, Rugger Bugger, Dr Strange, Household Name and Speedowax. Then there are the venues: The Crypt, Duchess Of York, Sir George Robey, 1 in 12 Club, The Cavern, The Garage, and fanzines Vision On, Fear & Loathing, Fracture and Artcore. it’s all here, reading like a who’s who of the UK scene at the time. Anyone reading Fracture fanzine back then will find their nostalgia glands working overtime. The tales continue, with Gamage’s shock removal from JOEYFAT, reforming COUCH POTATOES, and the formation of the even-more-emo RYDELL. The author again balances being part of this thriving scene, alongside such delights as a 1 in 12 Club hardcore festival, and an unfortunate meeting in Germany with grizzled punkers 999. Dreams are realized – a split 7″ and tour with HOT WATER MUSIC, supporting LEATHERFACE in Germany – as well as brushes with music industry machinations, in the shape of Alan McGee’s depressing A&R showcases. There are offers to join ANTI NOWHERE LEAGUE, touring Germany with PALE, setting up Ignition Records, the threat of legal action, and signing a record deal with US label Headhunter. Even a young Frank Turner makes a couple of appearances.
RYDELL’s disintegration begins on, of all days, 9/11 2001, the day they were due to fly out to the States for an East Coast tour. This is a story you will want to read. Ditto the subsequent rise of Engineer Records, and his more recent forays into band life with COME THE SPRING and THE ATLANTIC UNION PROJECT. I gotta say, the inclusion of recent band photo’s at the end, after so much compelling story, is a heart-warming payoff.
the author
My critical muscle expended a lot of energy trying to find fault with this book, to no avail. Aesthetically, it looks incredible. Given a deep, lush colour scheme, tactile photo reproductions and high-quality paper add much. The key to the success of this weighty tome though is in the title: heart. Intelligently written, Gamage avoids the alienating aspects of much academic work, while not succumbing to the flat prose of so many punk memoirs. Every facet of scene involvement is here and, that it takes place mostly in the nineties, is frankly irrelevant. Every word imbued with an excitable fervour, this is timeless, essential storytelling that will speak to anyone – from any era – who has spent time immersed in the DIY punk scene.
the official release is on 14th February 2023, with a foreword by FRANK TURNER. Published by Earth Island Books
Hastings’ sludgy, miserabilists front up with their sophomore album, and it doesn’t look like they’ll be branching out into goofy pop punk anytime soon. There’s the usual heaped helping of dense riffage and dirgy punk, but they have really honed their style with a doomy, poetic clarity.
These may be seperate songs, but HAEST’s wholly identifiable sound, aided by an adroit running order, result in a linking flow from track to track. So, Mr Sad Man, Bring Me Your Cheese‘s simple, stark intro gives way to the familiar chugging guitar, Dave hollering his cogent lyrics over a backdrop of pounding, doom-laden punk, and It’s Only Poison If You Die feels like a continuation of that. Flowing seamlessly, with gutteral bass and relentless riffs, it’s a persuasive tactic. The driving riffs of Car Crash Chip Gunge give way to a powerful sample usage and cacophonic ending, but you gotta love that pure, lone guitar popping up throughout Scatnan. Along with the unexpected addition of clamoring femme vocals, this is a defiant highpoint. The more propulsive In Cunt Tropicana Drinks Are Double Priced (all the titles are in-jokes made up by the band on eye-watering drives) features some arresting time changes in its faster, shorter space, and the pounding Fresh Prince of Bel Arse More Like showcases a fearsome, grinding riff. This in direct contrast to Right, Who Likes M People‘s patient, post-punky intro, which gets nearly two minutes in before the cutting guitars and hollering starts, bowing out with an ersatz Eastern European/accordion folk outro. Obvs.
The spirit of BLACK SABBATH hovers wraith-like, particularly on He Still Hasn’t Grown Into His Left Ear‘s riffing and, more surprisingly, the vocal on the brief If Debbie Had Done Dover She’d Be Dead, sounds just a little Ozzy. Someone Else Has Pissed My Jeans ups the punk ante, including a more noticeable accent on the vocals, ending on some dragging, sludgy riffs, but an album like this has to finish on an epic. Enter the near seven-minute, magnificently titled Jellyfish Are Just Wet Ghosts. There is a new-found subtlety in the languid intro, Dave’s holler just managing to fit in amid the deep bass and lilting guitar. We’re over three minutes in before it gets heavy, but gently pounding drums and a bass fade out close down this compelling, ebb-and-flow masterpiece.
Flowing like a one-song concept album split into acts, the core HAEST style is the root from which subtle changes bloom. Hypnotic, inventive, by turns uplifting and gloomy, chances are, the titles will be the only element of Belabour likely to cheer you up. Not something I’ll be playing every day but a hugely impressive piece of work nonetheless, and between Dave’s lyrical prowess and the band’s singular flair, HAEST have certainly hit on a gutsy formula.
You’re probably sick of seeing these things by now, so I’ll keep it short. This is the top ten releases received for review on the Personal Punk blog in the year 2022. It was a difficult choice as so much great stuff came through, but what pleases me most is the diversity of styles. As usual, I’ve brutally scythed it down to releases featuring at least two songs. Otherwise, MIDLAND RAILWAY’s She Loves Ted Bundy would be No. 1. Anyway, 2023 I’m ready for ya. Well, it’s already here, but you get my drift.
10 – FLESH CREEP – Bullets/King Of The Hill cassette
September saw Birmingham’s FLESH CREEP burst out of the cage with the slavering two-track salvo of harsh, savage screamo and metallic harcore. I wasn’t prepared for how loud and battering this was and it lifted me straight off my feet. Fucking brutal, enabled by a clanging production, perfectly fitting the style.
In December, Philadelphia’s GODDAMNIT turned my head with this heart-felt punk package, brimming with blue collar anthems, a la HOT WATER MUSIC, and lighter-waving ballads, all topped off with some 90’s PROMISE RING emo rock touches. It was a toss up between this and October’s Here’s To Feeling Good All The Time by KID YOU NOT, released on the same label. A strong grower.
TNS Records had a good year, but I adored the combination of gum-chewing, garage-punk fuck you’s and more considered emotional moments of THE SEWER CATS Cute Aggression. With some of the savviest lyrics in modern punk rock, all I can say is, we need more of this shit.
A jaw-dropping, six minute epic was the centrepiece of an incredible debut by this youthful Tunbridge Wells bunch. All of this seethe-punk masterpiece is astonishing, but Words Are Just That‘s melancholy THE MOB-esque dirge, voiced by KAE TEMPEST’S Nick Blinko obsessed little brother, is truly stunning. It is surely a crime that this EP never saw a physical release.
6 – ATTESTOR/ZERO AGAIN – The A-Z of Ignorance, Indifference And Apathy EP
Good to see UK hardcore nailing down the perfect split EP. This one pipped the TOKYO LUNGS/FERAL STATE EP to the post by dint of being perfectly tight, with zero fat on the bone. ÄTTESTOR kill it with 3 songs in 3 minutes of razor-edge ‘adhd-beat’. ZERO AGAIN slightly crusty take on hardcore brings to mind a metallic RUDIMENTARY PENI as covered by GRAND COLLAPSE or ENDLESS GRINNING SKULLS. Both bands firing on all cylinders.
Not only did TROPHY JUMP deliver on catchiness, they also managed to throw in a myriad different influences. Warm brass, emo-rock, hints of prog and guitar effects, all keep company with the expected skate punk speed and anthemic choruses. Top tier indeed.
New York’s SHRUG DEALER were new to me but their 8-track Infested EP got me all hot under the collar. PROPAGANDHI may be the point, but these Canuck’s keep it fast, tight and addictive, throwing in a ton of references, from PROP’s own lyrics, to REFUSED and THE RAMONES. With many musical ideas fighting for space, they balanced perfectly on the edge of technical hardcore and skate punk, with a canny sense of humour.
JAMES DOMESTIC’s debut solo LP has been a repeat player since its release in April. OK, so Giblets gets on my nerves these days, but the rest is an eccentric’s playroom of Stiff Record wonky pop, garage mania and patient, insistent experimentation, enhanced by a knowledge of dub reggae and room to breathe. A surprise keeper.
I said “A gleeful skip across the glory years of US hardcore and skate-punk, with a gimlet eye on their local hardcore history, this thing is an unalloyed joy.” That’ll do. Youthful, exuberant, classic US hardcore with zero pretensions. Belligerent teens, playing belligerent songs.
They did it again. The most innovative punk album to lurch through the Personal Punk doorway this year, FLIES had a killer high-concept of 21st century toxicity, mental health and existential dread, linked by themes of stasis and decay. This band is a squirming bag of restless creativity, and every groove of FLIES is brimming with jittery post-punk, overwhelming melancholy and good ol’ pulse-pounding anger. A modern classic with not a foot put wrong. Need a second mortgage to afford the upcoming vinyl release though…
PERSONAL PUNK 