"Grizzly". How deliciously inelegant. A brute of a record. Not so much music as it is an uninvited rupture in the time-space continuum, like a chainsaw burrowing its way through a church organ mid-hymn. If pain had a DJ, he’d spin this at full volume in a crumbling ballroom while the chandelier trembles in horror.

From the very first track— "Banditos" you are bludgeoned. There’s no foreplay. No seduction. Just snarling, sweaty biceps of sound, throttling you like a giddy executioner late for his next appointment. The vocals are less SINGING and more the undulations of a taxidermized warthog possessed by a demon with too many molars.

The guitars do not shred. They eviscerate. Chunks of riff fly off into the ether like severed limbs. Somewhere between track four and five — "Babayak" perhaps — I lost track of my surroundings and awoke in a corridor drenched in red light, clutching a femur and weeping softly.

Alexander Shikolai is a man in the throes of exquisite anguish, howling as if someone set fire to his memories and handed him the ashes in a gift box. His gutturals reach sub-basement levels of human vocal capacity. If the Mariana Trench could scream, it would sound like this.

The drums are as if a meat grinder became sentient and drank 4 cans of Monster. Somewhere, an ancient tribal god is dancing naked in the woods to this madness.

Amidst the carnage, the chaos, the pantomime of pulverisation, there are moments. Strange, shimmering moments of something more theatrical. Almost cabaret, if you squint through the blood. I caught a whiff of it in "Rodina", its like a dying ballerina gasping during her final pirouette before being stomped by a jackboot made of distortion.

"Grizzly" wants your spine. And perhaps your ticket stub. It is repulsive. It is glorious. It is the soundtrack to a dental surgery conducted during an earthquake, attended by feral aristocrats in latex.

Let us raise our goblets to the grotesque. SLAUGHTER TO PREVAIL have delivered unto us an opera of agony. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to the laboratory. There’s an experiment screaming in D minor...

This album scores at 8 selfish lines snorted by a cocaine bear before pre-drinks, out of 10.

Words: Matt Denny

Every now and again, a band will come along and even if not outright revolutionise the industry, will flip it upside its head. They make such an impact, that people have no choice than to sit up and take notice. It doesn’t matter what genre they fall under; that’s an afterthought. What matters is the connection they create with their audience, how they break the status quo, and how that band ascends from being A band, to being THE band. There are plenty of examples of such boundary pushers over the decades...even if we stick to the UK for the sake of this write-up. 

Whether it’s THE BEATLES or BLACK SABBATH, either super-popularising the idea of rock ‘n’ roll or the latter creating heavy metal out of it...whether it’s SEX PISTOLS or SPICE GIRLS, bringing unashamed, gritty, socio-political realism to punk or bringing “Girl Power” to the forefront of pop music...the UK, despite its small size, has always punched above its weight. This isn’t about chart success and streams, this is about artists who despite everything, became icons. These artists stood for something. Alright sure the Spice Girls were manufactured, but the reason they were was valid, and by fuck did it work. “Girl Power” wasn’t just a gimmick...if you enjoyed a “Brat Summer” last year with CHARLI XCX, well you can thank Baby Spice and co for that inspiration. People forget.  

But what happens when over the years, sounds, influences and ideas have blended beyond genre boundaries? What happens when the genre gene pool has become a metaphorical punch bowl, where you can add in whatever you want to create something unique, or even undeniable? It might not be to everyone's preferred tastes, but a lot of people are going to drink it. That’s where today’s band comes in; SLEEP TOKEN.  

Formed in London in 2016, the anonymous masked and cloaked outfit, fronted by Vessel, (A characterised ideology) released a couple of EPs before originally being picked up by Spinefarm Records, and have gone from strength to strength, to strength. In just a decade give or take, this alternative ensemble has sold out tours, gotten to number one in the UK album charts and have just recently headlined the Saturday of Download festival. That’s no mean feat let me tell you. KORN headlined the Sunday for the first time in their career this year, and they’ve been around since 1994! So, what’s the hype around this new cult of Sleep Token? Well, we’re about to attempt to find out...in theory, in practice and maybe even in vain. Nevertheless, now aligned with RCA Records for album number 4, this, is “Even In Arcadia”... 

The album, on face value at least sort of follows up thematically from 2023’s “Take Me Back To Eden”, as Arcadia itself refers to ancient Greece, and its own area of natural, peaceful beauty; simplicity, contentment and harmony. Vessel is clearly looking to write, and perform in order to channel himself, for a sense of purity and togetherness from not only his own sense of self preservation and worth, but his audience wanting a safe space too. He’s an incredibly poignant lyricist, so let’s get into that.  

Opening track “Look Into Windward” laments of an inner turmoil; facing the struggles or challenges of success, creation and identity. Instead of sailing with the wind, which let's admit outright, the band very much are in terms of success, Vessel see’s things differently. He’s sailing INTO the wind, pushing against the flow, any sense of natural order and fighting an uphill battle. From the very first verse we get a sense of tired tribalism. “Will you listen, just as my form starts to fission, losing this war of attrition just as I drift away”. Vessel is growing, evolving and wants to drive the art forward, and this could be interpreted as a frustrated acknowledgement of the division they create between fans of alternative music. They can’t escape an endless, thick air of negative criticism surrounding them from certain demographics. 

Lines like “I’ve got eyelids heavy enough to break diamonds” highlight Vessel's tiredness of it all, while the hypnotic, almost mystic repetition of the line “Will you halt this eclipse in me?” is the pained cry of an artist just looking to bare his soul, and not be overwhelmed and overshadowed by cynical and sardonic gatekeeping. All this is delivered with a wonderfully lulling, poetic often orchestral timbre, balanced by a fleeting bombardment of heavy riffs and percussion, really hammering home the metaphor of sailing against the wind. Potentially. A lengthy but lovely opener. 

The title track, “Even In Arcadia” starts off with the gentle tickling of a xylophone, almost like a windchime; quaint and peaceful, before this genuinely beautiful, flowing piano instrumentation wraps itself around your ear drums like a comforter. Vessel’s vocals here perfectly match the emotion of the track, softly crooned with a subtle vibrato, allowing an essence of vulnerability, as he sings of uncertainties in life. A deeply personal and private track of penance, but as the Gods sharpen their blades, he knows he still has wrongs to right and, there’s a powerful feeling of inner conflict and readiness for the battles that still lay ahead. As the track escalates, the added violins provide stunning orchestral accompaniment to an already opulent track, and it’s simply sublime. In places there’s an air of CELLDWELLER here at its most atmospheric and cinematic, and it’s easily an album highlight. 

Promotional singles like “Caramel” celebrate the unity and togetherness Sleep Token have amassed in their incredibly devout fanbase. Vessel is asking here for everyone who understands and appreciates, to follow...to literally stick to them like caramel. It’s going to be a messy journey, there will be obstacles, there will be hardship, but the key is unity. Lines like “Right foot in the roses, left foot on a landmine” highlight the almost trepidation felt, juggling success and criticism, just as “Wear me out like Prada, devil in my detail” showcase the cut-throat trend-based, fashionable aspects of the music industry, and how they face it head on. The personal battles don’t stop there either, as we have lyrics like “Can I get a mirror side-stage? Looking sideways at my own visage, getting worse, every time they try to shout my real name just to get a rise from me”. People are too obsessed with the who and the why...and they ignore the what and the when. What’s important here, is you have a band producing quality music, with a real deep connection with the fans, and many people want to dissect instead of digest, and play sleuth instead of living in the moment.  

Depth of song writing isn’t the main issue with Sleep Token thought...it’s their approach to music in general. As an alternative band, they’ve picked up momentum within the pages of say, Metal Hammer and Kerrang! etc, but because they aren’t primarily a metal band, or a rock band, they generate a lot of heat, especially in social media comment sections and posts. Sure, they are pigeonholed within such categories because of the fact they do utilise some truly crushing metalcore instrumental breakdowns and fills, but it’s part of a bigger picture. They incorporate a plethora of inspirations from acoustics, to orchestral, to contemporary pop, to indie, to hip-hop, to jazz, trap and R&B... they aren’t afraid to mix it up, bolder than the vast majority, and it works. 

​The issue Sleep Token have, is that, I believe, they’ve fallen into a trap of being the modern equivalent of Nu-Metal. Think about when LIMP BIZKIT became huge, Fred Durst was rapping over down tuned guitars and heavy tracks, bridging genre gaps. Really pissing metal fans off, because they became HUGE. LINKIN PARK did the same on albeit a more serious note, but the combination worked, and the sales of “Hybrid Theory” speak for themselves. Times have changed, styles and tastes have changed, but what Sleep Token are doing is blending genres, just like those aforementioned bands, and doing fucking well by doing so, because they write good songs, and people are relating. Old school metal fans don't like that, too many years of headbanging and warm cans of Red Stripe to be cognitive of evolution. How dare bands that don't fit into their idea of whatever the fuck they think is correct succeed. The absolute audacity! 

I’m not saying this as a new fan, there are elements to this that I am personally not a fan of, for transparency, but I respect the fuck out of Vessel and the band for doing what they are doing, the way they want to do it. Ignore the mystique of the masked personas and the cult-like charms they invoke, that’s been done to death let’s be honest. What matters is this lot have captured something special in the way they write and incorporate multiple influences, to mould this honestly captivating narrative in song. Time will tell how long they can keep the masks on, how the industry will affect their integrity and how far they can truly go within this gimmick and concept, but for the mean time, let’s simply appreciate Sleep Token for what they are. Young, talented songwriters and performers who are on top of their game. Black Sabbath just bowed out in spectacular style in Birmingham...and like it or not, Vessel may very well be the new Prince Of Darkness. These aren’t to be slept on. [8] 

I don’t know how to explain it without sounding dramatic. It’s not dramatic, though. It’s just how it is. You live with a thing long enough and it stops being a crisis, it’s just part of the day now. That’s what this album reminds me of. Not the noise, exactly, though there’s plenty of it. It’s the PRESSURE of it. The way it settles in and won’t move.

I forgot I had headphones on. Thought something was wrong with the wiring. Not in the music, in ME. Chris Wiseman doesn’t build songs. He just lets them HAPPEN. It doesn’t rise or fall or follow rules. It just, shows up in your chest. Makes a mess and stays there.
I don’t know what’s going on in Ben Duerrs head, but he sounds as if he’s arguing with a ghost that never shuts up. “Flying the Black Flag” knocked something loose. He sounds done. Not angry, just, past it. He’s probably said it too many times and no one ever listened right. That kind of tired doesn’t sleep off.

There’s a track, “Infinity of Horrors”. I didn’t even get halfway through before I had to stand up. Not even because it was loud— it wasn’t, not really. It just felt TOO MUCH like something I’ve had to sit through in real life. Not war. Just waiting rooms. Tests. Being watched and not told. They get that feeling down cold.

The symphonic parts, don’t feel majestic. That’s not what this is. It’s not BEAUTIFUL, It’s what your insides are trying to convince you it’s fine when it isn’t. You know those mornings where you almost believe you're okay until the headache kicks in sideways? That. That’s what the pretty bits sound like.

I’ve played it three times now. Not because I like it. I don’t even know if I do. I just, keep checking it. Like a bruise you thought was healing but turns out it’s spreading. It doesn’t end when it ends. It just goes quiet.

I can’t give this a straight score as the mirror just blinked at me. Words: Matt Denny.

I've been spinning the new HIGHER POWER record "There's Love In This World If You Want It" for a couple of days now and I'm proper conflicted about it. I should slag it off because that’s what I do when something pokes at the bit of me I’ve spent years trying to shut up. But, the fucker keeps crawling under my skin like an old regret I can't scratch out. Probably because I'm drawn to anything that matches my state of decay.

Even the title makes me want to bin it off. All that hope and optimism, makes me sick. But then "Two Doors Down" comes crashing in with those mental breakdowns and I'm reminded why I fell for this lot in the first place. They seem to have taken all that genre-hopping madness from their early days and mashed every genre button like a bored kid at a self-checkout, but somehow kept one muddy boot planted in the mosh pit.. Of course I'd gravitate toward something that sounds like it's falling apart.

The fact they kept everything in-house this time round shows. No fancy producer trying to polish the rough edges. Just Louis Hardy back on guitar duties, apparently he dug through forty shite demos to salvage these half-dead riffs and bits of broken magic. Some of these tracks apparently date back to 2018 when they were touring with VEIN.FM. It’s mad to think they've been sitting on these ideas for years, just left them to stew amongst some warm cider fermenting in the glovebox of a dead car you can’t be arsed to scrap. Bit like me really, aging badly in the corner.

"All The Rage" is the one that proper gets me. It started life as trip-hop apparently, which sounds about as appealing as a wet weekend in Blackpool, but what they've done with it is almost as if Dave Grohl’s been up for three nights straight and decided to scream into a Dictaphone. It's the kind of track that makes you want to air guitar in your bedroom mirror whilst simultaneously hating yourself for enjoying something so shamelessly uplifting. Though to be fair, I hate myself for most things these days.

"Lunar Tuesday" hits different though. There’s loose chords and solos that give you that neck-prickle you pretend not to notice - it's like they've captured that feeling of being half-cut on a Tuesday afternoon, watching the world go by and not giving a toss about anything. There's something almost poetic about watching a car crash in slow-motion whilst Thom Yorke is sobbing through the stereo and you’re just sat there, with your dick in your hand, watching it unfold.

Then there's "Better" drifting along as if it's never been ghosted or gaslit a day in its life. It makes me want to volley some hooded youths just for looking smug. All that carefree wonderment when the rest of us are stuck in dead-end jobs and deteriorating relationships. But that's the thing about Higher Power - they make you feel stuff even when you're actively trying not to. Which is annoying when you've perfected the art of feeling nothing.

"Count The Miles" is where they let the beast off the leash properly. It's clawing at the walls like it's late for something violent. The sort of track that makes you want to run through walls or at least briefly consider jogging, then remember your knees are shite and you’d rather die in bed than in Lycra.

The closing track "My Sweet Surrender" is where they really take the piss though. All those heavenly strings and euphoric atmospheres - like they want you to believe the universe isn't just a massive wind-up. The crescendo builds and builds until you're practically levitating off your grotty sofa, and for a moment you forget that most days are just disappointment and overpriced meal deals. Then you remember you're still you, sat in your pants at 3pm on a Wednesday.

What really does me in, is how mental it all gets - up one minute, down the next, but not in a showing-off way. More like mood swings set to music. You're getting your head kicked in by crushing breakdowns one second, next thing you know you're floating about on some cloud of sound. It's like they've got the same emotional problems as the rest of us, only they can actually play instruments instead of just complaining about everything.

Higher Power have made something that's both familiar and completely off its head. It's what happens when a band stops caring about what people think and just makes noise that stinks of their own blood. Apparently, there’s love in this world—if you’re daft or drunk enough to go looking. Most of us either too proud to ask or too knackered to try. Personally, I’d fumble it anyway, then blame the universe for being a cunt.

This album grabs you whether you like it or not. Even when you're convinced, you're not worth grabbing.
 
ALBUM SCORE - 7 Worlds Destroyed By Galactus; Hungry For Love (And Sustenance) Out Of 10

Released June 27th 2025 (Out Now Digitally) Via NUCLEAR BLAST RECORDS. 

Words: Matt Denny

The new album by SIX FEET DEEPER doesn’t start, not in any normal sense. You’re already in it. Guitar halfway unzipped. Amp humming like something half-alive. No warning. No welcome.

Patrik Andersson plays like he’s restraining something, but it’s not fear. The tone’s not clean, not dirty—just worn. Dented. As if it’s been dropped more than once and still won’t die. The first riff slinks in sideways, doesn’t grab you. It’s already under your skin by the time you realize you’re moving wrong.

“Oxymoronic” builds down, not up. The notes sink into the mix like bruises rising under skin. Andersson keeps his phrasing close to the chest—coiled, mean. There’s no climax. Just pressure. The kind that makes you shift in your seat and not know why.

​Emil Mickols doesn’t play fills. He tightens screws. His toms don’t echo—they stalk. The snare’s dry, cracked. It’s being punished. He’s not keeping time. He’s daring the rest of the band to get out of line. On “Binary” his kit sounds like a bed frame you shouldn’t be on, the sound of the floor when someone shouldn’t be standing behind you.

Erik Arkö’s bass is being dragged, not played. Notes are pulled slow, stretched taut. There’s no groove there’s a trail of blood. You don’t ride it. You get pulled under. When it syncs with the kick, it’s like a pulse you only notice when it skips.

Sara Lindberg’s vocals are the part you feel days later. No scream. No seduction. Just control. Tight as a fist in your mouth. She doesn’t sing to you. She works through you. Voice restrained, held, then pressed deeper. There’s a pegging metaphor in there, but not the way people usually mean it. This isn’t playful. This is practiced. She keeps rhythm like she’s keeping someone still. And when she lets go, it’s not some cinematic payoff. It’s a release that leaves you cold, emptied, and used.

The production stays out of the way. Not minimal—more like ignored. Mics were too close. Or not close enough. Doesn’t matter. You hear room tone, cable hum, and a breath that shouldn’t be there. It’s all too real, and not in a cute lo-fi way. It feels like walking into a room still warm with something wrong.

The title track, “The Death In Hollywood” unravels like a lie you’ve told too many times. Instruments drop out like excuses. Lindberg stays just long enough to make it uncomfortable, then vanishes mid-thought. It ends, technically. But it doesn’t resolve.

Upon listening to "Prayer By The Edge" it’s already done what it came to do. And if you’re smart, you won’t ask it to stay.

"Prayer By The Edge" comes in at 8 broken rosaries, out of 10. Released July 4th, via LION MUSIC.

Words by Matt Denny.
​

I might be a month late, but, New Year all! I’d preface that with a happy but that’d be jumping to conclusions, wouldn’t it? I don’t want to be done for false advertising. Let’s not gaslight ourselves here, all of that new year, new me nonsense is exactly that. Life goes on, as a multifaceted pantomime, with government, society and humanity as a whole seemingly insisting on operating in the bleakest of slapstick manners. It’s like, Fawlty Towers meets Squid Game...that’s life essentially. We’re a laughing stock of our own farming, both morally and socially, and it’s getting worse.  

However, as is always, we have music and the arts to keep us relatively sane, (For the time being at least, it won’t be long before all music is cancelled because it offends someone) and if you’ll allow me, I’d like to pick up where I left off at my last gig of 2024; ELECTRIC SIX. You can read my review of that at All About The Rock, but I’ll summarize by saying not only are they one of THE most hard-working touring bands, with a magnificently prolific output, but their front man, DICK VALENTINE is equally as prolific as a solo artist. Without even delving into his filthy filth-laden crime noir audio books, and his services on Cameo amongst other things, 2025 finds Valentine in double figures for solo albums hitting streaming services, and for the sake of continuation, let’s check his latest one out. This is Dick Valentine, and this is “The Final Musician”...  

We open up with the title-track and initially we’ve got this, jovial, almost childlike vocal presentation, over some simplistic acoustic guitar, and it’s very happy-go-lucky, before we get into the meat and potatoes of the track. It’s got a very, “I told you so” essence that leans heavily into the corporate side of the music industry. It speaks of the rigmarole of dealing with labels, the underhandedness, the writing on the wall for artists struggling within that dying industry. It’s a very well worded, song of togetherness in the face of adversity in the arts. There’s an innocence to it, and in its humble sorrow, it acts like a rallying cry to support artists, music, venues; everything. This is a wonderfully crafted, antiestablishmentarianism fuelled track, and a plea to support music at its raw core.  

The synth elements on follow up track “Asian Freckles” borders on 8-Bit nostalgia sonically, while a very cymbal-heavy percussive barrage blankets a fine dose of garage indie-rock. It’s incredibly energetic, up-tempo and whimsical in a way and you can’t help to clap and dance along to this. With a complete shift in tone and tempo then we have “Leave The Rest Of It To Me” and we’ve got this beautiful little folkish piece with Celtic elements. The acoustic guitar here is backed by some soft string instrumentation and olde quaint aesthetics, and it’s a lovely little track. It’s speaking of a troubled relationship and dealing with its internal dynamics, and the roles within it, and it makes for an interestingly different type of love song. 

There are tracks like “Rodeo At 30,000 Feet” which honestly sound like Johnny Knoxville is going to introduce a Jackass stunt, and quite frankly I’m torn between, I hope he doesn’t read this, because he’s daft enough to put a bull on a plane...and I hope he does because that would be insane footage. Why did the plane crash? Well, we let a bull loose mid-flight over the Atlantic, enough said really. It’s another dose of percussion heavy garage rock with indie stylistics resulting in a quirky up-tempo piece of music. “Duchess In A Tree” houses subtle funk characteristics under an almost rapped vocal display during the verses, only highlighting Valentine’s repertoire as a vocalist, and showcases his diversity as a performer. Electric Six are known for their genre blending from record to record, and here Valentine hammers that home.  

We eventually close up on “The Living Remember The Dead Remember” and instrumentally we have an early punk-pop vibe going on, fuelling this crescendo in the liveliest manner. Where does that leave us though? We’ve heard Dick Valentine’s albums from the past, and he’s previously focused more heavily on acoustic performances, but these later releases seem to lean more heavily into a continuation of Electric Six’s catalogue.  

As I stated previously, the prolific nature of both Valentine and the band can only be admired really, as it’s not a case of churning records out for the sake of it. No. Whether it’s for the full band, or for his solo material, Dick Valentine IS the final musician. He lives for the music. He is a songwriter. He is an artist. More often than not these days, new artists seldom have longevity, because their success came through happenstance from going viral for fifteen minutes on Tik Tok, with peoples attention spans lasting about as long as the last meme that came before them. There are those who genuinely try, I tip my hat to them, but we’re living in a world of self-importance and instant gratification. There is a metric fuck-ton of bandwagon jumping and capitalizing on the back of others success via trends. Dick Valentine doesn’t bow to such idiosyncrasies. Dick Valentine is in his own lane on his own journey, and while you are more than welcome along for the ride, he takes detours for no one. Realistically the final musician maybe grandiose in its declaration, but there’s a degree of truth within the sentiment as he’s certainly one of very few, and frankly needs more respect put on his name; there’s FAR more to him than songs about gay bars. [7] 

Back in 2017, LINKIN PARK released an album by the name of “One More Light”, which garnered mixed reviews from a lot of people. Including myself. Now let’s not beat around the bush here... I scored it negatively. It was an OK pop album; it just didn’t feel like it fit the Linkin Park aesthetic. It FELT like a label pleaser, to adapt to the shift in the mainstream, with collaborations including STORMZY and KIIARA. People on the internet will say that I did so because I live in the past, and that I just want every record to sound like “Hybrid Theory” or “Meteora”...this is not true in the slightest. I appreciate growth and expansion from within bands, and the way they see the world around them, it’s what inspires them to create art. The art that, we as consumers enjoy. Also no, I’m not ignoring or forgetting “Reanimation” or the JAY-Z collaboration...this just felt different. 

​I mean, if I wanted to listen to an artist that put out the same thing over and over again, I’d listen to AC/DC, or insert generic overhyped and deified rock band here. (You’ve heard one you’ve heard them all is what I’m saying). The trouble with Linkin Park, was the sheer level of success that that first album garnered. It completely blew them up on a global scale, and so when it came time for the sophomore, the label justifiably said “Hey, look, money...more of the same please!”. We lapped it up as fans and consumers, don’t get me wrong, it was their sound; they excelled at that subtly electronic layered rap/metal crossover, but it frustrated the band to the point where, by the time “One More Light” came out all those years later, they’d gone out of their way to do the remix albums, acapella albums, experimental albums like “A Thousand Suns”, and ultimately tried their very best to show there was more to them than meets the eye, before that aforementioned 2017 pop album, and subsequentially, Chester Bennington’s suicide mere months later. There was more to the death of Chester, let that be clear, but we didn’t help his mental health, I acknowledge that.  

It was a catch-22, as we needed to respect the band for sticking to their guns, and creating what THEY wanted to create, or felt they needed to, for better or for worse, but we just wanted the band we loved, to create music we could enjoy; (You can only push an envelope so far), we knew what they were capable of, and we didn’t always see eye to eye. We were part of the problem (Admittedly I can’t speak for EVERYONE). The whole situation soured, and there was a lot of guilt following Chester’s death where we realised, we could have been more open, and supportive, and maybe Chester would still be here with us now. The sad fact is, he isn’t, and we thought we’d lost one of the most important and influential bands of the 21st century as collateral...but here is the dilemma. The new divide, if you will... 

2024 sees the RETURN of Linkin Park, with a completely new reshuffled line-up, after we thought we’d realistically seen the last of the nu-metal icons. With a brand-new singer at the forefront by the name of Emily Armstrong, who previously sang for DEAD SARA (As well as new drummer Colin Brittain, plus guitarist Brad Delson no longer touring with the band is notable) we find them opening a fresh can of worms and splitting more opinions than the US presidential election arguing over a jar of Marmite. I can’t believe I’m saying this but...this is “From Zero”, this is brand new Linkin Park...and these are my thoughts... 

We’re off to a bad start, frankly, as we have “From Zero (Intro)”...and it’s on the verge of being at least patronising to a degree. We have this almost angelic, choir-esque vibe, as though the heavens have opened, and the band have returned, risen again to start from scratch. There’s a spoken word snippet where new vocalist Emily offhandedly says “From zero? Like, from nothing? OH WAIT YOUR FIRST...” and it’s cut off before she can say band. We know that Mike Shinoda has openly stated that XERO was the original project before the formation and finalisation of Linkin Park...and we know that he’s produced this album, he’s pushed for this album, and it’s like he’s pushing this ideology from the start to use Linkin Park’s name to sell records, instead of going back to that first name he’s not even hiding away from.  

I’m feeling almost nonchalant dictatorial vibes right here. THIS is a primary gripe among many fans, who identify and associate Linkin Park with Chester on vocals, as the voice of the band...regardless of founding members, he was the unique, distinct voice, he was the generational talent at the forefront. If you’re so insistent on harking back to that Xero band name Mike, use that name, embrace that name if you are so proud of it, and release the music as Xero...not treat Linkin Park as a cash cow (See Wembley ticket prices). But the dilemma is only beginning... 

First track proper, and first single, “The Emptiness Machine” is an absolute banger. I wanted to make a joke about McDonald’s ice cream but, it would be petty of me. I am actually Mclovin’ this. (That was cringe...whistle and I will strike you). It’s a genuinely fun, engaging track with a lot of hooks in its short run time. Lyrically it can be interpreted as a reference to Emily being associated with the Church Of Scientology; being born into it second generationally, blending a sort of realistic world view with a feeling of hopefulness. She has been moulded into this lifestyle and belief system from childhood and it’s about wanting to just fit in and wanting to find oneself. Metaphorically hammered home by the very societal "cog in the machine" type music video. As an interpretation, this just makes sense, never mind fitting in with twenty years' worth of Linkin Park fans. But were the follow up singles as strong? 

Next, we have “Heavy Is The Crown” and we’ve got an immediate sense of burden here. Instrumentally the band have harked back to the period of “Minutes To Midnight” and “Living Things”, blending those practically recycled synth notes and overall tone. There’s an air of defiance in the lyrics, with lines like “You can’t win if your white flags out when the war begins” and it could be seen as Mike’s approach to Linkin Park in the face of life after Chester. The whole commitment to the band's continuation, and the pressure of Emily stepping into such iconic shoes...but they still manage to throw in a passive aggressive middle finger, as Emily does an equally long scream here as that of the track “Given Up”...as if to hammer home this justification of her appointment, in a “told you so” manner of fact. This again feels more patronising than vindicating under the surface and just comes across as hollow imitation on this instance. 

Emily gets to utilise her clean vocals on the track “Over Each Other” and to be fair, she sings well through a wall of anguish and frustration, and it reeks of relationship breakdown, be it romantic, platonic or professional, but here is the issue. It's an angsty pop song, which there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with, it’s a fine song, but if I or anyone was living under a rock, and didn’t know Linkin Park had reformed in this new era with new presentation, you wouldn’t be like, “Oh is this Linkin Park?”. As fine as the song is, it could be PVRIS, it could be HALFLIVES, it could be insert modern female vocalist of current day rock band name here. There’s nothing WRONG with it, it’s a decent song, but there’s a generic quality to it. It also ends terribly as they include studio snippets of interaction with Mike, trying to push a feeling of connection and bonding, as he asks her to put her “screaming pants on”.  

Why is this, I hear you ask? Ladies and gentlemen let me introduce to arguably the WORST Linkin Park song to ever be green lit for recording; “Casualty”. Honestly Charlie Fairhead should be on call to prepare you for theatre after listening to this. We’re booked in for a Tympanoplasty and a Stapedectomy...and a slap in the face for good measure. There’s a raw, hardcore, almost punk-inspired aesthetic here and while Emily CAN do this, Mike CAN'T...and when Mike starts trying to shout and produce aggressive vocals or seem assertive, he comes across as Clarence Claymore boxing and it’s pitiful to be honest. (That’s a nuanced reference, look it up). 

Emily, credit to her here, sounds pissed off; she sounds like she’s really invested, and she's built for this...but this is wholly unnatural for Mike. While it has throwback elements to “The Hunting Party” with its raw presentation, and hardcore punk levels of vitriol, Mike doesn’t quite cut it here. He honestly doesn’t sound comfortable or confident performing in this manner, and the quality, or lack thereof shows, he personally brings this track down. I guess ironically you can now ask why is everything so heavy? Genuine question. No wait, no, I know what it is. Doing such a shit job himself will make Emily sound so considerably better! She’ll be praised! You tactical motherfucker. Honestly Mike she can do the aggressive vocals perfectly fine on her own and I applaud her for that, you don’t need to be involved in that. You stick to the rap stuff and the brand appropriation. 

Speaking of, “Two Faced” absolutely oozes of “Meteora” era Linkin Park with the guitar tone and overall tonality regarding to chorus/verse transitions. This is more of a classic Linkin Park sound, and it does take you back twenty years, and truthfully you could easily see this as a collaboration that never saw the light of the day in 2003. It honestly wouldn’t be out of place on the original, it’s that close. 

Tracks like “Stained” further hammer home that Pvris type vibe in presentation and we have to admit that Emily does bring a brand-new dynamic to the band's aura when she’s more subdued vocally, before “Good Things Go” somewhat ironically wraps up the album. There’s an almost apologetic essence here, as though the band are anticipating the reception of this new era; pre-emptive damage control if you will. It’s almost in direct acknowledgment of Mike’s decision to continue Linkin Park from a lyrical standpoint, with Emily very much being a factor in that. It’s the musical equivalent of puppy dog eyes and fishing for sympathy when you read into it, and as pleasant as the song is, aesthetically...lyrically there’s a disingenuous feeling to it and it can’t be ignored.  

Ultimately, the question is, what can we take from, “From Zero”? The unbiased answer is a pletheora of things (See what I did there?). For anyone who was there from those early days in the 2000’s, that grew up with Linkin Park, when Linkin Park moulded the fabric of the person you were to become, it’s a band that holds a special place in your heart. I’d swear in a court of law, that Linkin Park helped shape the person I am now...fuck I was in Cornwall on holiday when I purchased “Hybrid Theory” and listed to it on repeat on my Buffy The Vampire Slayer skateboard with my Sony CD Walkman. It’s THAT ingrained.  

As we’ve grown older as fans, we appreciate those years because they were pivotal in our upbringing...I had no peers, I had no alternative community...I had nobody trading mix tapes or cassettes or burnt CD's...but I knew this band was special. As we age, our tastes change, our worldview changes, our political mindset changes; we evolve, as individuals as well as professionals. It’s so easy to see why on a business perspective why Mike would want to bring back Linkin Park...but where do we stand when it comes to morality? On face value, this is not a bad record in the slightest, it’s got some nostalgic moments, and it takes you back to the good old days momentarily in places...but is it Linkin Park? For me, the answer is no.  

Call me cynical, but they’ve tried to blatantly rehash elements from previous albums to sell a new narrative, they’ve made passive aggressive comments in spoken word segments as well as lyrics, Mike is trying to push for this, and as honestly decent as this album is on face value, which it is, it’s a fine album, I’m sorry, it’ll never be Linkin Park. QUEEN tried it with ADAM LAMBERT, can you imagine TYPE-O-NEGATIVE continuing without PETE STEELE? Can you imagine HIM without VILLE VALO? Or KORN without JONATHAN DAVIS? There's an IDENTITY...do you see my point? Any long serving band can emulate and recreate their sound instrumentally, but, you can seldom replace a voice, and the emotion that comes with it. The stories and feelings they share. We can agree to disagree, I’m fine with that, you have a right to an opinion such as I do...but to me, this is a reshuffled band recycling ideas in places to live off a rhetoric, and I’m not even mad, I’m disappointed...[6] 

When you think of the term “emo”, you tend to get a very stereotypical mental image. It’s skinny jeans, Vans or Converse daps, studded belts wrapped around your arse cheeks because they are there for show not for practicality, a plethora of rubber wrist bands second only in number to the scars they cover, cartoonish band t-shirts from Blue Banana (Essentially Hot Topic off of Temu) and crippling depression masked by the most perfectly straightened fringes. Your mental state is fragile, but your hair is on fleek my guy...please avoid naked flame. 

Musically speaking, the scene dominated the mid 2000’s and gave us some of this century's biggest stars. PARAMORE for example gave young girls the world over a voice, and someone to look up to in Hayley Williams. With women severely under-represented in rock music, they also managed to make orange hair cool. That’s how good Hayley is. MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE saw sales of eyeliner, drummer boy jackets and nail varnish soar with their anthemic mega-hit “Welcome To The Black Parade”, and in all its grandiose pomposity, has rendered a simple G note somewhat of a sensory trigger for broken, beaten and damned millennials. But who influenced THEM? 

Emo, if you even want to categorise it as a genre all in and of itself, goes a lot further back than that, well into the early 90’s, with the likes of SUNNY DAY REAL ESTATE and JIMMY EAT WORLD. Despite the dirtiness of the grunge movement, and facing the birth of nu metal, they went against the grain, allowing emotionally raw lyrics to compliment often more melodious, candidly unvarnished instrumentation. Their stripped back, openly emotive presentation allowed for more poetic, deep, heartfelt song writing in alternative music, without the pretentious imagery of some Goth for example, and it led to the eventual 1995 formation of today’s band; THE GET UP KIDS. 2024 marks the 25th anniversary of the Kansas City collective's sophomore album “Something To Write Home About”. Dubbed arguably one of the most important and influential albums in the entire genre, by one of its pioneering artists, let’s see if this 1999 classic can live up to its title. 

The album begins with “Holiday”, and we’re met with a flurry of vibrant, energetic pop-punk laced instrumentation, with strong garage rock vibes. This is remastered, but here it still sounds as raw and rugged as can be. That’s part of the appeal of the original wave of emo; the realism, and the relatability. Just like punk before it, it was MEANT to sound rough around the edges; purity over professionalism. A tale of wasted emotions and very apropos in 2024, with lines like “Where did our respectable convictions go? Your words don’t match the story that your actions show”. This is a great start. 

Next up we have the albums initial promotional single “Action & Action”, and we’re greeted with more up-tempo guitar play, but with some nicely layered synth notes assisting the melody. Bands like REGGIE & THE FULL EFFECT (A side project nonetheless) and PANIC! AT THE DISCO would incorporate this further down the line, merely highlighting the albums influence on this blend of rock music. Synths and programming weren’t just for the new wave artists of the 80’s, instruments are to be used to your vision, and these kids helped lay some foundations. 

Further highlights include “Ten Minutes” which utilises a lot of the same tropes; pop-punk energy, happy-go-lucky tonality and the exact sort of song that would be played over a Warped Tour promotional montage package. It’s light, it’s casual but it’s heartfelt and it’s what got these kids noticed. “Close To Home” carries itself in the same vein, and the angsty vocal delivery balances with the instrumental joviality really quite well.  

The thing with emo though is there is always a softer side to the teenage hardship. I know far heavier bands have tender, softer moments, just look at PARKWAY DRIVE with “Darker Still” for example, beautiful song. Emo is an adjective more than a genre, and emotions fluctuate, plus are independent of those feeling them, so it’s a grey area. “Valentine” is a typically trope heavy song of longing, reluctance to give up on love in the face of separation. Wanting to hold on to a one-sided relationship. It’s almost lulling in its sweet delivery, but undeniably sad hearing the hurt in the lyrics. “Out of Reach” goes one step further with an initial acoustic driven campfire ballad. The subtle piano layering and build-up of percussion gives the track more character, but it’s a delightful little ditty at heart. 

There is additional content here too, as they have included an album worth of demo’s, including “One Year Later” and “Central Standard Time”, and it’s always interesting to see, or hear rather, the evolution of songs as they are tried and tested in the writing process. Again though, this is something for the die-hards and elders to dive into essentially, as they don’t really affect the album that much in terms of listening experience.  

It’s a solid album, and again we must mention it set standards back in the day and put this kind of artist on the map. It kickstarted Vagrant Records, the band toured for two years solid with the likes of GREEN DAY and WEEZER, it got into the Heat Seekers Top 40 which was a rare accomplishment for an artist of this ilk, they weren’t fashionable! It’s undeniably an important record in the melancholic makeup of the emo genre we mope about nostalgically. My only gripe? It’s not the first reissue or anniversary release. The band also re-released this in 2008 to celebrate ten years of the same album, with a DVD featuring a live show, and a photo booklet, and even though they have released other albums since, the most recent being 2019’s “Problems”, it seems they have a problem with holding on to this record, and they’ve allowed it to essentially define them.  

My point? Look at the aforementioned bands...My Chemical Romance weren’t afraid to change drastically when they wrote “Danger Days”. Panic! At The Disco found Brendan Urie on Broadway and separating himself from your typical emo aesthetics, and Paramore have just come off of the back of one of the biggest world tours ever with TAYLOR SWIFT following their musical evolution. The Get Up Kids have just released an album for the third time, and even though it’s remastered, it still sounds rough. Back in the day that meant something, now it’s like, come on guys, at least re-record it in a better quality if you’re going to sell it again. An important genre album, that is undeniable, but does it warrant yet another re-release? Available on streaming services from August 23rd, and with another physical copy scheduled for September 20th, “Something To Write Home About” is on the verge of being something to roll your eyes at. The Get Up Kids grew up, and as adults, they seem to just like reminiscing on the good old days; trying to recapture that feeling of acceptance and success, and on this instance, it’s a little bit desperate. With that being said, I am currently home, I have written about it...and I will very likely never listen to this album again. [5] 

Back in 2022, everything was coming up Milhouse. Despite Russia playing real-life Risk with Ukraine, Queen Elizabeth II going from her platinum jubilee to an oak coffin, additional incidents of Russia trying to penetrate Ukraine, a monkeypox outbreak (As if coming out of Covid wasn’t bad enough), further issues of Russia deep inside Ukraine, more US school shootings (That’s a given), Pakistan floods, the world's population reaches 8 billion too many and...believe it or not, more Russia making a mess in Ukraine...despite all that, there was quality new music to enjoy, unless you were in Ukraine. Too busy balls deep in ballistic missiles to hear the radio. The Russians were coming...hard. Hnnng. 

I say coming up Milhouse ironically of course, as 2022 was another shit-show, let’s be honest, but we ARE going to revisit Mulhouse, a far-eastern region of France, (See my tedious link there?) where we reacquaint ourselves with today’s band; SEXBLOOD. Dubbed the French Manchester, or Franchester as I called it, we discovered that Mulhouse, was an industrial town/city with a rich history in vehicle engineering and locomotives. With museums dedicated to each respectively, it’s only natural, they developed their own dreary indie/post-punk scene, just as Manchester had done with JOY DIVISION and THE SMITHS, for example. 

Following on from their 2022 album “Teach Me To Cry”, which I highly recommended, Sexblood are back with their follow up album “Intimidating Visions”, but are we going to get mad for it? Il n'y a qu'une seule façon de le savoir... 

We begin rather menacingly with the track “I Choose To Live In Hate”, and it's got this, deep, slowly chugging riff that gives off early, proto-doom vibes, accompanied by subtle icy synths, and even brief horn elements towards the tracks climax. It builds for this genuinely creepy yet fantastical piece of instrumentation, and it sets a darkened tone very early on. Vocally we have a sort of, hushed, lightly warbled, husky drawl that pays homage to the likes of Carl Macoy, or Andrew Eldritch, non-discernible at times, but this is a mood. There’s a bitterness to this; a sense of self-spite, politicism and despite the vocal quality being occasionally blurry, it has its Gothic charm. 

​We follow this up with our first album highlight; “Time Is Running Out”, and the band utilize the universally recognised sound of a heart monitor slowly flatlining to kickstart this one. It’s a trope and has been incorporated into tracks previously by the likes of TYPE-O-NEGATIVE on “Life Is Killing Me”, and ZEROMANCER’s “Dr. Online” for example, but it does help set a certain narrative, adding character to the composition. We’re greeted then with simplistic percussion, wonderfully light melodies and more nostalgic 80’s post-punk sensibilities. The guitar work coming out of the chorus reminds of “Temple Of Love” for example, as Abel De Beauvoir sings of mortality, and the choices you make as the sands run down. Moral questions and self-reflection, as you look within yourself as death looms, and it’s thought provoking. 

Further highlights include “Doctor Death”, which houses more of the same, catchy post-punk aesthetics instrumentally; clap-along percussion, prominent basslines, nicely layered synths and plenty of hooks that would leave Slimelight swaying away like a coked-up colony of bats. Speaking of things hanging, the song is about Harold Shipman, who had over 200 confirmed victims, making him one of the world's most prolific serial killers. But, sometimes, you’ve got to make a bunch of vulnerable, elderly patients overdose in order for Goth bands to write funky songs about you twenty years later, no? PhD officially stands for posthumous dance along. (Look I know he was just a GP, but I committed to the bit, OK, deal with it). 

It’s safe to say that Sexblood haven’t veered too far from the formula that they established on their debut. “The Meat Wagon” has a wonderfully bass-driven level of dark funk with icy-synthesized elements that’s VERY SISTERS OF MERCY in places. “Out Of The Dark” houses an edgier guitar tone that bolsters their classic post-punk delivery for a more rocking, energetic track. “Walpurgis Night” is an ode to Germanic Catholicism, warding off witchcraft and other priorities such as, whooping cough. (You can deep dive that one yourselves I’m not going into over a thousand years of religious history here). Bonfires are lit to deter evil spirits, unlike here in the UK, where we light bonfires on November 5th in memory of Guy Fawkes, who was THIS close, to burning down Parliament, where all of the real evil spirits congregate.  

There are some lesser tracks, in all honesty, but they don’t spoil the album as such. “The Dust” is quite a slow, methodical piece that just, creeps along with a sense of spookiness within the synth presentation. I’m not saying it GATHERS dust, but you get the idea. The title track is a little underwhelming sadly. With its name you’d expect something a little more intense, more akin to the aforementioned highlights, but it's really quite mellow and casual. It’s about as intimidating as the current wave of youths wearing balaclavas, carrying glorified purses riding E-Scooters, listening to 21 SAVAGE or any other generic excuse for a rapper. Less wannabe gangster, more underage gimp. They round things off with an incredibly disquieting version of the French nursery rhyme “Maudit Carillonneur”, which I believe means “Curse You Bell-Ringer". From morn till’ night he rings the bells, tormenting those within hearing distance, driving them insane. Or something, I don’t know it’s in French, it’s probably just Quasimodo frantically pulling the cord in the disabled toilet at Notre Dame. 

Essentially, what Sexblood have delivered here is another fine mortuary slab of old-school Gothic rock. They very effortlessly keep that post-punk sound alive and well, breathing fresh life into such a niche genre, without sounding dated, or out of place. Goth as a term is multi-faceted, and you will always find people lean certain ways to what they believe Goth represents, be it musically, visually, stylistically, hell even architecturally and historically, but in terms of no-nonsense, mood-driven, aesthetically macabre yet melodic alternative music, Sexblood are keeping the genre alive and well. I can’t say I’m intimidated, but I CAN say that I am continually impressed by Sexblood’s output. A murder in the bleu, blanc rouge morgue if you will? Très bien. [7]
 
​

Back in 2022, I gave myself PTSTD’s...it’s a combination of post-traumatic stress and sexually transmitted diseases. Even the crabs have flashbacks. It’s my own fault frankly, as I discovered an artist by the name of KIM PETRAS, and I dived in, without any protection whatsoever, to the filthiest EP I had ever subjected my hearing to, by the name of “Slut Pop”. It’s like, remember LimeWire? You’d download an album, only for it to be a corrupt file of questionable nature, and your laptop ended up with some incurable super AIDS? Well, this was that, but the file isn’t even corrupt, and you still ended up with the super AIDS. Even Freddy Mercury winced, and he’d been dead for 31 years. 

Kim is a German-born transgender artist who, as we found out rather unashamedly, is not afraid of controversy, and by that, I mean, she doesn't necessarily wear her heart on her sleeve, she more sort of spreads her legs in a manner that could make a Basking shark blush, perhaps wider than you can fathom, with a flashing neon sign stating free parking. After a highly successful run however, with a massively popular collaboration with SAM SMITH, and “King Of Hearts” from her 2023 album “Feed The Beast” being a legit bop, we find Kim back in the gutter for another incredulous dose of debauchery. This is “Slut Pop Miami”, and I hope you brought tissues...for your tears you degenerates! We aren’t going all Randy Marsh on this album! 

We gape, sorry, open up with “Slut Pop Reprise” and it acts as a transition of sorts, bridging the original EP into this sequel or follow up I guess...round two...sloppy seconds if you will. There’s a heavy sense of lyrical repetition and she’s proud of her oral prowess, but the chorus does admittedly house decent Euro-pop dance qualities and that alone is already an improvement on the EP. The chorus (If you can even call it that) is actually catchy, with its bassy electronica and autotune rich presentation. I’m praising autotune...make of that what you will. 

Speaking of oral, we follow this up with “Gag On It” and we have some lovely sound effects underlying an off-kilter, almost jazzy, funk-based piece of retro synth. I say sound effects, I’d be surprised if this wasn’t actual audio ripped from some Brazzers clip, but listening to it, it sounds as appealing as you could expect. I struggle gargling mouthwash, for perspective. Don’t ask questions just go with me on this one, please, I’m already a broken man. Mr Muscle loves the jobs you hate but even he wouldn’t touch this. 

Next up we have “Fuckin’ This Fuckin’ That” and fuckin’ hell...what the fuck? It houses this, almost MR. OIZO “Flat Beat” aesthetic, just slowed down, but lyrically even Samuel L Jackson is like motherfucker calm down with the fucks! He’s famously renowned for his F-bombs over his storied acting career, and Kim here is giving him a run for his money on one song. I NEED to see Samuel L Jackson perform this on that “Lip Sync Battle” show. It’s fucking awful though, honestly. 

Following on from this we have “Banana Boat” and, is it politically incorrect of me wanting to deport the bitch based on this song? Instrumentally it’s returned to a more stripped back, very generic formula of seedy, pulsing electronic simplicity, and while there are subtle hints at a CHARLI XCX influence towards the tracks climax, we’re going down on the route of sexual innuendo with an innocent piece of fruit, like some bi-curious George.  

If hell exists, I’m going there for this next one, as “Get Fucked” incorporates vocals akin to that “Satisfaction” song by BENNY BENASSI and, its less Stephen Hawking, more Stephen Horny. Dribbling from multiple places stuck in his wheelchair on Epstein Island. Sat there, blue screening out of over-stimulation. “Rim Job” is self-explanatory, we won’t be needing Trevor and Chance from Smosh to give another visual interpretation on TNTL. Lines like “He sing a ballad while I’m tossin’ his salad” are impure at their poetic finest, as the electronic beat here pulses, tickling your taint with more Charli XCX influenced pop. 

Musically speaking, “Head Head Honcho” is arguably the albums highlight, with it’s very light, airy, 80’s inspired synth-pop; it’s quite poppy and had some genuinely decent little hooks instrumentally, but you can’t take this seriously with the lyrical content. I’m not saying you HAVE to take this seriously, of course not, but you can’t help but shake your head while you try to vibe to this. Lines like “I’m a penis genius, I’m a semen Jesus” and circumcision references like “I like the taste, no poncho” can’t help but make me think, had Kim been a little older, she would have been a superstar on shows like "Eurotrash" or, "Tarrant On TV". Or Graham Norton when he was unhinged on Channel 4. 

I’m not going to cover every track here, but I have to talk about “Whale Cock” before I go and that’s a thing I never imagined typing. Tongue in cheek references to Moby Dick are one thing, but the lyric “Lookin’ for my Shamu (Free Willy!)” honestly nearly made me spit my wine out. I legit laughed out loud at that and will continue to do so every time I hear it. I have to give her credit for that, that’s genuinely funny being so out of the blue. It’s worth those couple of seconds alone, just like me in bed. Sorry to brag. 

The question here now, really, is, how are we rating this? Other than ‘R’. We established from the EP that, musically, this side of Kim Petras is entirely a separate entity from her mainstream pop career. She has released genuinely decent pop music and has the collaborations to back up her credibility, so this is purely an indulgent bit of creative, albeit filthy fun. Is it for everyone? Absolutely not, but it’s not meant to be.  

There IS improvement here instrumentally with some tracks having actual catchy elements, but the formula is for the most part, the same. While the lyrical content is again, far from vanilla, we’re met with more repetitive, light-techno pop, subtle garage elements, and retro aesthetics that plateau very early on. It’s niche, like the 4 US States where beastiality isn’t formally illegal (I’m looking at you Hawaii, New Mexico, West Virgina and Wyoming, and well done for ruining my search history looking for that). Is it worth a listen? I mean realistically no, but it’s better than REGINA HARDON. The bar wasn’t high let's be fair. In terms of slut pop, Kim Petras really is the head honcho. [2] 

​Certain things are simply made for one another, and rightfully go hand in hand, can we all agree? Like, Jack and Coke for example. If I could get endorsed by Ol’ Uncle Jasper, believe me, I would. I’d happily pickle myself in your Tennessee tastiness HMMMMMMMM (Makes Shayne Topp horny face)…*cough*, sorry I got carried away there. Moving on. Another example would be pineapple on pizza. Before you try to cancel me, get yourself a ham & pineapple and add some freshly sliced jalapenos, make yourself a spicy Hawaiian then apologise to me AND Canada, when you learn it’s the best damn pizza in the world. (Look I know Canada produced Justin Bieber and Nickelback as well but, swings and roundabouts, alright?) A fairer example, however, would be punk and politics, and this ties us into today’s band; GREEN DAY. 

Now, punk rock at its core, has always been very anti-establishment in its principles, it’s message and its purpose, going back decades to its very conception. Ranging from the likes of DEAD KENNEDYS and SEX PISTOLS, and in more recent era’s artists like PUSSY RIOT, to name just a select few. There has always been a voice for the people. People don’t always listen, don’t get me wrong, that’s why the US Presidential election campaign is a joke, and the UK’s populous seems to comprise of utterly braindead sadomasochistic fuckwits, that seemingly WANT themselves and our nation to be thoroughly buggered in every taxable way possible. Rishi Sunak is not my Prime Minister. 

Where do Green Day fit into this? Well in their lengthy career, they’ve established themselves as one of the biggest names in the punk/pop-punk genre, with “Dookie” firmly putting them on the map thirty years ago, before “American Idiot” completely reinvigorated them during the second Bush administration. They wonderfully blended social commentary with deeper agendas and it catapulted them to a status of one of the biggest bands of the new Millennium. So, what happened? They peaked.  

Everything they’ve done since, has failed to live up to the pop-culture impact and success of “American Idiot”. Commercially, granted, their name carried them, and they’ve charted well since, but fans haven’t been overly impressed. Be it the all-filler, no killer trilogy that was “Uno”, “Dos” and “Tre”, for example, in which the band very clearly had ideas above their station yet no real direction, or the incredibly phoned in “Revolution Radio”, and we can’t forget the absolute shit-show that was “Father Of All Motherfuckers”. Green Day seemingly turned into a band without cause, or even relevancy. Can a group of fifty-something punks not even so much as cling onto, but reclaim their youthful, vitriolic drive on latest album “Saviours”? There’s only one way to find out. 

We open up with “The American Dream Is Killing Me” and it would be hilarious, if a polka-dot clad Dusty Rhodes was dishing out Bionic Elbows here, but we aren’t that fortunate. Lyrically it IS a powerful song, and it's a damning indictment on what is very clearly an illusion. For what feels like forever, we’ve all been sold on the American dream. You go there to prosper; for opportunity, for wealth, for success, but, with lines like “People on the street, unemployed and obsolete”, and “My country under siege on private property”, it’s more of a capitalist nightmare, as the working and lower classes, the true people of the country are being increasingly overlooked, and abused by the very home they are meant to feel so undeniably patriotic and proud of. When Billie Joe Armstrong sings “We’re paedophiles for the American dream...” you know it’s a problem, likening such a sickening perversion to the simple want of a better-quality life. The only trouble here? Its their own sound. This song is just so happy-go-lucky, and bounces along with just this, too-ironic, juxtaposing frivolity, you forget the seriousness of the subject matter, because you’re just bopping along to a fun piece of pop-punk. 

Tracks like ”Look Ma, No Brains!” touch upon a sense of arrogant ignorance that a lot of people view Americans as having, with opening line “Don’t know much about history, ‘Cause I never learned how to read”. There’s a lack of awareness and self-reflection within America it feels, and this is a decent slab of social satire. One of the main promotional singles was “One Eyed Bastard”, which resulted in Ofcom being inundated with zero complaints, as Cyclops’ don’t exist outside of Greece, so they’re safe. Controversial for all of the wrong reasons, it’s been alleged that they heavily plagiarised P!NK of all people for the main riff, and the resemblance is uncanny to be fair. The song being “So What?”, which, I’d imagine is exactly what Green Day thought when writing this. It’s also got shades of “Holiday” in tone and presentation, just slowed down, so they’re even riffing off their own material, almost sounding recycled, or lazy even. 

We have a subtly punk-infused indie-pop ballad in the form of “Suzie Chapstick” which reminds of THE LIGHTNING SEEDS or WEEZER in its soft semi-acoustic strumming, while “Living In The 20’s” gives us arguably the albums edgiest track in terms of tonality. It’s got some nice crunching guitar, back to basics but delivered with more bite and attitude. This is more like it, and easily one of the albums highlights. The title track “Saviors” is ironically self-depreciating. We thought Green Day were intending to BE the saviors here, and that, that was their mission statement; to save face by saving their scene, this new generation; giving us a reason to deviate from the norm. Instead, it’s more of a defeatist attitude, basically stating that hey, we’re no spring chickens, where are the kids that are up in arms, where are the kids with dreams to make a stand? Where are the kids that want to make a difference? They are the future, THEY will be the saviors, and it’s essentially a rallying cry. Again, however, given the way the band write songs, it’s too despondent...it’s like, they’ve given up, and are just asking, even hoping, that more people make their voices count. We finish with some “Fancy Sauce” and sadly this isn’t the least bit sexual. It’s quite a sluggish track, but lyrically nods to the video for “Basket Case” in places, almost coming full circle in the bands story arc.  

Ultimately, here we have a case of the right messages, purpose and sentiment driving these songs lyrically, but Green Day do what Green Day do, and their almost whimsical style of song writing negates any of the seriousness they intend with the points they are making. Yes, you are a multiplatinum, absolutely massive band in name and appreciation, but if you’re going to take jabs at society, the government, the establishment, your countries situation and way of life...you've got to sound like you mean it man. You can’t be like, let’s call out the bullshit but make you want to dance to it at the same time. The messages they try to portray are sincere, don’t get me wrong, but there’s absolutely nothing about them here musically that says, we need to be angry, we need to be pissed off and we need to do something about a lot of things. The only thing they are saving here is their own airplay value and income. Green Day might be saying some of the right things here, but it is severely lacking conviction. The American dream isn't killing you...you're just slowly killing yourselves with mediocrity.  [5]

You’ll know and understand by now that, I seldom take myself seriously when it comes to my written review content. Don’t get me wrong, there are albums that I do genuinely adore, and occasionally a new band, or artist will pop up that I legitimately recommend and promote wholeheartedly, but, for the most part, I prefer the challenges of the downright questionable.  

There are records by the likes of say, COREY FELDMAN or, BIG DUMB FACE that I’ve tried to be fair with, despite me needing to clean grey matter from under my fingernails, having scratched my head so hard out of confusion. But neither of these were necessarily offensive to my eardrums, despite the low scores, just, stylistically quirky in their own right; unique in many aspects, and unashamedly indulgent in the particular artistic avenues they chose to travel down.  

There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s funny when they get upset. Corey, I accept if I got it wrong when I thought you were in one of the “Sharknado” films... HOWEVER, you proudly correcting me that you were instead in an indie-flick about periods that nobody has heard of is no better. That isn’t cult status, that’s a typo. Wes Borland? I gave your Big Dumb sequel a 5 out of 10, because I was honestly on the fence. I didn’t hate it, I just explained that it’s been a long time since the first big dumb album...people tend to forget. People were going to listen to the new one and think, what in the ever-loving fuck is this?! It’s like, you expect some LIMP BIZKIT, but when you open the tin its Nan’s sewing kit. I digress. 

However, there are then those records that exist in spite of common decency...the kind of art that would wipe the smile off of even Bob Ross’ face. The kind of content that, if spoken of in a confession booth, would find the priest asking for forgiveness while hiding your body. Such records include that WILLIAM SHATNER blues album...that “Ram Ranch” album which is less yee-haw and more hell-naw, and we can’t forget KIM PETRAS. That last one ties us into today’s review...let me explain. 

If you recall, Kim’s “Slut Pop” EP was quite simply filth. I mean it delivered on its promise, being one of the sluttiest selections of sexualised dance-pop anyone has ever heard outside of a Brazzers shoot. But it has a challenger. Let me, try to introduce you to REGINA HARDON. Little is known about Regina; to the point where we don’t particularly know if she’s even actually real, with some suggesting it’s some sort of AI project. Allegedly UK based, the only biography I can find on her is riddled with nonsense and there is nothing but mystique surrounding her. This year found her releasing her debut EP; “Bucket Pussy”, as she implores the listener to “grab a raincoat and explore her anatomy”. I implore you to grab your toaster and run a bath...let’s get this over with. 

The EP opens up (I mean it’s practically gaping to be honest) with “Call Me Kim”. While contextually you could believe this to be a direct nod to Miss Petras, for opening the floodgates for such content, it’s more than likely an out-of-date reference to Kim Kardashian given some of the lyrics, and once again it’s the lyrics that grab your attention harder than Donald Trump can grab a pussy.  

It’s for the best part a track about getting dicked and making a sex tape essentially, and some of this lyricism is simply poetic. “Come in my room lets have some fun, see how many dicks you can fit in my bum” ...you going for a Guinness world record love? How many do you need up there like? “Rub my clit let's make a porno, make sure you strum it just like a banjo” ...ah yes, the banjo, the most seductive of instruments. Nothing says passionate love making like the sound of being sodomised by hillbillies. “Swallow your kids – call it child neglect” and “Murder this bussy like you’re Jeffrey Dahmer” ...make you double-take, but the following lines legitimately made me laugh out loud. “Think I queefed when you went down on me, blasted you away like Hurricane Sandy” and last but by no means least, “Find my clitoris, make me wet, pussy talk French oui oui baguette”. Words evade me I swear...we’re only one track in and I’m at a loss. We haven’t even touched on the music. It's slow, low and synth-driven with minimal clapped percussion with light high-hat dustings...it’s frankly irrelevant. Seriously, it’s ONLY background noise as she spoken-word raps away in a very flat, lifeless manner; this is awful. 

We follow up with “In The Air” and we’ve got more of a pulsing electronic aesthetic kicking things off, before the first line “Took a shit in the shower”. Marvellous. She didn’t even waffle stomp it down the plug hole, dirty bitch. The vocal delivery here is more regimented, almost bullet pointed and cold, very synthetic in presentation, and it remains this way for the track's duration in more of that spoken word style. She’s on about, doing yoga on the pole, paying for drinks with her hole, all the while at the bar with her dad? More absurd lyrics about sex and it’s really quite one-dimensional already. In the air? In the bin with this one. 

Halfway there now and we have her first single I believe; “Never Been To Mexico”. Now, I myself have never been to Mexico, but I promise you this instant, you’ll never see me writing and recording songs about riding dick because of it. I don’t care how good the tacos are. Apparently, it’s about giving sexual favours in return for being spoiled with exotic holidays and such, sort of unashamedly sugar-daddy-ish. The instrumentation again is minimal at best, some synth-effects giving off an echoed sound, with more basic high-hat tickling. More lines like “My bum is soft like an uncooked chicken breast” continue to ensure this is utterly ridiculous and it’s already not funny by this point. You’ve probably never been to Mexico because they won’t allow you into the country, on account of you likely being so incredibly infectious with a catalogue of STD’s. North America wouldn’t have seen such devastation to its populations health since Columbus landed! 

There’s nothing subtle about our next track; “Sitting On His Face”. It’s got this almost icy hip-hop / trap style beat which gives it more of an urban vibe, which does admittedly accompany Regina’s vocal delivery better, but that’s about as much of a compliment you’ll get out of me for this entire EP. Her spoken style and presentation here honestly reminds me of that LOUIS THEROUX money jiggle-jiggle rap, that’s how toneless we’re talking. Some of the lyrics here are outright nasty, like, seriously I want to jet wash my ear drums with a flamethrower. “I start to cream but its green cause I’m clapped” and “His tongue is in my sandwich; he’s having a picnic” nearly put me off my kebab. NEARLY. 

Finally, then we finish on (No I won't say that I won't give it the satisfaction), we conclude this EP with the title track, “Bucket Pussy” and we’d have been naïve to expect anything different here really, wouldn’t we? It’s another subdued, lightly synth layered, percussive piece of background noise for more eloquently delivered smut, as she proudly describes the sheer enormity of her massive apocalyptic minge. There is a slight key change to her vocals on the chorus, if you can call it that...so there IS progression...but it’s far, far too little too late for redemption at this point.  

Given the lack of variety in Regina’s monotone vocal delivery it’s easy to see where the AI accusations come from, as well as the lack of information and photos, but regardless of if she is some computer-generated project or not, this EP is about as entertaining as chemotherapy and about as welcome as Jimmy Saville hosting BBC's Children In Need. The music is an afterthought and contributes next to nothing of merit, while the flat delivery of such strumpet loaded lyrics makes you wonder, what is the point? There is the briefest period of amusement on first listen given the ridiculousness of the content, but the shock value and humour dissipates well before the end of this five-track EP. I could let a Brazilian wandering spider bite me directly on the dick and I still wouldn’t get hard for Regina here, honestly, I think we’ve found a cure for priapism. This is one of the single worst things I’ve heard in my entire life. Sure, I’ll call you Kim, but I’m calling my ass an Uber because having listened to that, I’m off to the GUM clinic. [0]

Let’s tackle some new music, shall we? My last couple of posts here have essentially been me indulging in my own sense of teenage nostalgia; briefly looking back at my own personal growth and evolution in music over twenty years, but this is GTGC not AVGN, as we can’t keep going back to the past, and I’d certainly rather not eat the rotten asshole of a roadkill skunk, regardless of the beer I was downing it with! (If you know, you know) We must keep our ears to the ground; listening out for fresh new tunes. Or just use the internet...that’ll be easier. With that being said, let me introduce to you today’s subject of review; a Scottish artist by the name of DEWAR. 

Kirsty Dewar is a Falkirk-based singer-songwriter who has been in the game for fifteen years now, and has worked with a plethora of huge names in pop music, ranging from RONAN KEATING to the SUGABABES. Kirsty got in touch with me through LinkedIn, generally asking about my written content. I supplied her some links, and she was kind enough to trust me with a review. Trust is a strong word; this genuinely isn’t foreshadowing. I promised her a write-up for her latest release; “Rudiment” which came out on September 1st, and despite not being my usual cup of tea, it would have been rude for me to ignore her. Let’s check it out... 

We open up with a track called “Alone Again” and it really sets the tone for a generally heavy-hearted listen. It starts with this plodding, anguished percussion and the saddest, softly plucked, echoing guitar strings, and the tracks vibe is one of true pain and longing, before we even get to Dewar’s vocals. She sings of a loneliness and love-loss, facing life's challenges on her own again once more, and she sounds genuinely defeated. This is very emotive stuff. 

Following this we have “Waste My Time” which has more of a funk-based, groove-rich approach instrumentally, despite having a similar tempo. There’s more of a swagger and defiance to her vocal delivery in the chorus here, and it’s a more attitude-fuelled track all in all. “The Show Is Never Over” retains elements of funk but houses more of a soft, 80’s pop aesthetic with her clean, semi-soulful vocals, and the retro aspects work well. 

So far so good but generally safe, do we have any highlights here that stand out? “Wolves” has a wonderfully gritter indie vibe to the chorus, it’s quite bold and assertive, carrying some lovely vocal hooks akin to MACHINE HEART at times, with a lyrical vulnerability, and more prominent guitar in places that inject life into the track. “To See You” is arguably our choice pick here, as the piano, low-key synth aspects and percussion allow for a simple yet effective pop ballad. It’s easy to see that Dewar has previously worked with Sugababes, as it would easily befit the likes of them, ATOMIC KITTEN or GIRLS ALOUD for example in terms of its tone, layered vocal production and presentation. Not as energetic perhaps but it works. 

We round the album off with “Dance In The Shadows” that has more of the hushed vocals over soft piano; very percussion driven and it’s the kind of track that fans of RAE MORRIS would appreciate, before we aptly close things with “This Chapter”. It’s primarily more of the same, and ultimately, we end as we started. That’s not strictly a negative comment, but there is an aspect of this album that is primarily formulaic, bordering on one-dimensional over its run-time. 

Sure, here on “Rudiment” Dewar delivers a fine collection of softly emotive, ballad-driven indie pop, with funk, folk and soulful influences sprinkled throughout, giving it enough character to be pleasant, but nothing truly jumps out at you, aside from a few key changes or vocal hooks. I guess the title here is fitting in that aspect as, at its core principles, this is a pretty straightforward, no-nonsense album that revels in its own simplicity. It's not overtly flashy, it’s not ground-breaking, but it is contemporary as a lot of artists like MYLEY CYRUS, BILLIE EILISH and LEWIS CAPALDI etc are all peddling powerfully emotional pop ballads. Dewar has a good quality vocal projection and has plenty of confidence in her singing and song writing, but other than fleeting moments here and there it sticks to its own unwavering path creatively, resulting in a mostly mimetic listen. I guess you could say rudimentary, my dear Watson...[6] 

As I’ve stated plenty of times before, back in the early 2000’s, we were in the height of the Nu-Metal era. All of the freshest bands were peddling in down tuned guitars; combining elements of alternative rock and metal, with rap and hip-hop, and traces of the tail end of grunge, and while the likes of LIMP BIZKIT and LINKIN PARK were riding high with chart success and platinum albums, there was always going to be a place, for good old-fashioned rock ‘n’ roll. It’s at the very core of what we enjoy under many guises today, as rock ‘n’ roll will never truly die. By that I mean, it’s like CARRY ON films, they’re dated as fuck but, they’re fondly remembered for what they were. Nowadays we have an ever so slightly over-saturated market for modern classic rock bands but, that’s a whole different kettle of fish, and we aren’t talking about when rivers meet in the kitchen... 

Today, we celebrate another anniversary, as twenty years ago, Suffolk based spandex enthusiasts THE DARKNESS unleashed their debut album; “Permission To Land”. Permission was granted too, as they spent four weeks holding onto the coveted UK No.1 Album spot in the official charts, selling over a million copies, fending off the likes of IRON MAIDEN and DAVID BOWIE. It won them Brit Awards and made them rock ‘n’ rolls newest stars. Now, in 2023, let’s look back and shine another light on The Darkness, as we check out their new four-disk anniversary set and grant them “Permission To Land...Again”. 

Disk one kicks off with the original album plus a couple of demos, and we’re greeted with a little folklore a la “Black Shuck”. An East Anglian death omen, a devil dog of sorts, it supposedly terrorised church folk, but here it’s all very tongue-in-cheek. We’re treated to some ascending riff and drum work, very bluesy and gritty, before we’re met with front-man Justin Hawkins, and his unique and impressively high vocal range. He jovially sings of how this demon dog don’t give a fuck, as they swagger through a high energy hard rock number, with wailing guitars and a simplistic AC/DC-esque intensity. It’s a fun opener and caught many by surprise. 

Next up we have our first solid album highlight, by the brief bombardment of lead single “Get Your Hands Off My Woman”. The rolling intro of gradually built bass and cymbals, leading into a flurry of intense glam rock, with some insanely high-pitched vocal screeches. It’s got light punk rock qualities in its attitude and fuzzy production, coupled with the frenetic solo, but it’s an undeniably entertaining piece of rock. This certainly caught people's attention in the February of 2003.  

To say the album was top heavy, would be a fair assessment, as the following three tracks were also singles, and they certainly wanted to make an impression. “Growing On Me” is a twisted tale of relationship uncertainty; jumbled emotions and confusion, treating love almost like a fungus. Who’s really growing on who? Justin here is incredibly juxtaposed in what he wants, or feels, but there is definitely something there. Dan Hawkins is once again allowed to let rip on a guitar solo and this is just a band in full swing. 

Speaking of full swing, we have the bands piece de resistance... “I Believe In A Thing Called Love”. A 21st century anthem, it’s undeniably their biggest song, and the track that put them on the map. From the music video battling space aliens, to the catchy, sing-along harmonies where EVERYONE tried to reach those high notes and failed miserably. It’s got clap-along qualities and riffs not seen since the likes of QUEEN and it’s just splendid. Arguably overplayed at rock clubs and alternative DJ nights, but it’s still a fantastic, light-hearted rock number. 

The albums strongest track though, debatably, is “Love Is Only A Feeling”. The gentle nature of this sweet, emotive rock ballad is simply stunning. The guitars and overall tone ooze a mature sense of longing and heartache, and the Spanish guitars, with subtle keys merely add a level of romanticism. And that solo too! This is played with passion and a sense of honesty rarely found in rock bands. This is from the heart and it’s wonderful. 

The remaining half of the album is fine, but as previously stated it has been front-loaded. “Friday Night” has some jovial lyrics about ping-pong, badminton and gymnastics, it’s a quirky song about being nerds at school, but meeting at a dance hall and reconnecting. It’s sweet in its delivery but emphasises naïve, youthful romance. It’s like, “Friday I’m Love” by THE CURE in a catsuit and far less Goth. “Holding My Own” closes the album with another ballad, and as touching as it is, can’t compete with our previous efforts. 

The demos consist of unreleased tracks like “Out Of My Hands” and “Nothings Gonna Stop Us”, which are fine ballads and energetic numbers respectively, while “Black Shuck” gets the Vincent Price homage with a creepy intro a la “Thriller”. “I Believe In A Thing Called Love” has the elements in place but it’s slower, with more synth underlay, and is a far cry from the finished song. A couple of tracks to check out but, the band picked all of the right singles to be fair. With the added production quality of course. I believe in a thing called studio engineering.  

The following review that you’re about to read, came about purely by chance, as, the band and album in question were not even on my radar, let alone my infinite list of shit to listen to. No, today’s review can be credited to Nikki Smash, who I write content for over at RIFF YARD MEDIA. Courtesy of ONE EYED TOAD RECORDS, SaN PR forwarded Nikki the upcoming debut album from Hertfordshire based metal outfit RAZE, entitled “Pyrography”, scheduled for release on July 28th, and he himself gave it the review for the RYM website. (Check that out here). 

So, you may be wondering where I come into it? Nikki has a brilliant mind and is a very smart dude when it comes to the music industry, but review writing isn’t something he does a great deal of, and so he asked me for my opinion on his review, because he felt he may have been a bit too harsh, or, blunt? You’re probably thinking, then why the fuck did he ask me of all people? Good question, but I read it over, and it was a very well put together, professionally critical piece of reviewing, that had no issues with its content whatsoever.  

He was worrying about nothing essentially. I always say if you genuinely think something, commit it to pen, no point in watering down integrity. This is where I then said, casually, it could have been worse, I could have reviewed it! We laughed, then it dawned on me that, I have a blog of my own, which brings us to the here and now. So, with that being said; if Nikki thought HE was being harsh, well, someone hold my beer damnit. New question; will this Raze to the occasion and impress me, or is this pyro going to go up like the Grenfell Tower; a poorly planned tragedy? Let’s find out... 

We open with “Maple”, but don’t expect bacon and pancakes, this ain’t no breakfast of champions. We get a deep, brooding guitar led opening with light cymbal's littering the background, before a more surging dose of melodic metal sweeps through, and it’s promising. The clean vocals have a very delicate baritone, before Louis Dunham takes off with a soaring chorus section. The ALTER BRIDGE and TREMONTI influences plain to see, and it's going well...before the growling. As it happens, the band threw LAMB OF GOD down as an influence too, so naturally the best thing to do is combine everything, and squeal like a rabid pig over parts of a generally decent song, ruining the ever-loving fuck out of it. It doesn’t fit, it does neither the track or Louis any favours, and is delivered with about as much grace as a coat hanger abortion.  

Follow up track “Better Off Alone” starts off harnessing more of a core heavy metal style, channelling further influences like MACHINE HEAD, but it also has an air of PANTERA to it in places. The heavier, guttural vocals do feel more at home here, as the instrumentation is more befitting of such a brutal approach; it isn’t jarring in any way, and the cleaner notes compliment the growls much better here. An admittedly sluggish, plodding riff carries the bulk of the track, and the guitar solo is sadly lost in a barrage of audible throat cancer, while drummer Ethan Morter smashes his plates like a bull in a China shop. Way overlayered here and it’s another potential highlight spoiled. 

Next up we have their most recent single “Roachman”, and this could be considered an album highlight. When they focus on clean melody, and incorporate their Southern-tinged hard rock, they actually have something decent going, as individually it is clear they are all incredibly competent performers and musicians, all of the potential is there, but there seems to be this need for everyone to be in the limelight, and these tracks at some point or another feel clustered and congested. Again, guttural vocals not necessary here, bringing the track down, and this one simply feels like two different tracks trying to work at once. Oh, and we HAVE to mention the video. Part live performance footage from their local town hall with all eleventeen people in attendance, part stop-motion claymation footage. Remember when CKY had that video for “Inhuman Creation Station” that was all stop-motion, that Bam directed? Yeah, this isn’t that. This is more like, Morph from “SMart”, but Mark Speight sculpted him AFTER he hung himself... 

The rest of the album finds itself in a bit of a pattern creatively. “C. Exigua” contains some quality guitar work and a pleasant solo, while “...Again” takes things too far, over-delivering on the fret-wankery, almost trying too hard. “Mellow Breeze” utilises some more crooned vocals for a slight change of pace but it’s quite anti-climactic, while “W.B.C.” again is very heavily layered in production. There is a lot going on here and we find another track blended in a messy, convoluted headache. Closing track “Blue Sky Vengeance” does have some enjoyable, funky bass lines that stand out because you can actually hear them here, but that’s about it for that. 

As stated, as musicians, these lads can very obviously play, and they are more than technically proficient. Yes, it’s their debut album, yes, they want all the bells and whistles and yes, they have the potential to deliver some genuinely strong material in the probably near future, but they need to rein it in a little and understand less can be more. A lot of the time they don’t allow each other room to breathe, and the result is an often time needlessly noisy album. “Pyrography” sounds like a combination of pyromania and pornography...which I guess they think is hot by some means of a burning passion? It’s more like gonorrhea if you ask me; treatable but best not to have it in the first place...[4] 

Merthyr Tydfil is no stranger to live music. Whether it’s a large outdoor gathering in Cyfarthfa Park, which has hosted everyone from DONNY OSMOND and MADNESS, to ANTI-FLAG and TAKING BACK SUNDAY, or whether it’s one of the towns smaller bars or, venues like The New Crown, or The Redhouse, who offer everything from local bands, karaoke, cover/tribute acts, or artists like KIDS IN GLASS HOUSES, TOPLOADER, HOLDING ABSENCE and WHEATUS. There’s always something for everyone. 

This includes heavy alternative music too, as for a good while, local promoter Scott Meredith would organise CELTIC MOSH, a monthly music night of some of the UK’s hardest, fresh, up and coming underground metal acts. He regularly brought the heavy...but, it’s safe to say, few expected the level of heaviness about to hit this traditionally industrial town tonight. On Wednesday, May 31st, RIFF YARD MEDIA was a welcomed guest in The Redhouse, as UK Goregrind / death ’n’ roll veterans CARCASS makes Merthyr their morgue for the evening...and they brought friends. Let's see what unfolds as we go headbanging in the heads of the valleys... 

As per, the day was an adventure purely because this reviewer had completely forgotten about the gig. I was on lunch at the day job, sat in the Sun enjoying a cigarette, checking my emails, when I open a message from HOLD TIGHT PR (Thank you Lisa) confirming my press allocation for the event. I initially think, awesome, look forward to that, let me double check when it is again...oh...it’s TONIGHT? Shit. This alters my evening. No boring sitcom–esque cliches needed but insert the absolute mad-rush montage here of me trying to get into Merthyr for the 7pm doors after work. Imagine Benny Hill but in Drop G tuning... 

Regardless, I get to Merthyr for AROUND 7pm(ish), and there is a noticeably unusual amount of people with Camo cargo shorts and denim battle vests, full of random-ass patches. You can tell there’s a metal gig going down. One lad had a U2 badge sewn on though...and I am quite surprised he wasn’t taken to where the streets have no name, and been subject to a Wednesday bloody Wednesday to the point where the local police still haven’t found what they're looking for. I digress. Heading up the steps at the entrance of The Redhouse, I get my entry wristband, grab a pint can from their café-turned-bar room and head in to prepare for tonight's only support act; CONJURER. 

The Warwickshire 4-piece (Consisting of guitarist/vocalist Dan Nightingale, guitarist/vocalist Brady Deeprose, bassist Conor Marshall and drummer Noah See) are on a mission to reduce the Redhouse to rubble tonight, and they probably could have given time. While their set begins sweetly enough with some acoustic backing track and blue mood lighting, they soon tear into “It Dwells” and for the next 45 minutes, there is zero respite. It’s a small venue, and every riff, every throat burning scorcher of a vocal line has nowhere to go but through you, as you feel the bass, physically pummelling your chest harder than the local Gurnos boy racer, with the newest copied Clubland CD on full volume in his second-hand stolen Vauxhall Corsa. Both vocalists are situated either side of the stage, allowing Conor to take FULL advantage of his long locks and windmill his hair like he’s been sponsored by Head & Shoulders. Honestly, it’s majestic. 

There’s little in the way of communication between band and crowd here as they mean business, as they soon switch into “Rot” for a “Pathos” double-header. The slower, doom aspects of their metal, with subtle djent qualities really scrapes the gutter for this death-inspired onslaught; it truly is unforgiving. “Suffer Alone” has a far faster pacing and the punk-rich percussion allows this death/thrash monster to just tear through this packed hall. ”Scorn”, taken off their debut EP “I” showcases their early material, and the dual approach of Dan, who has the deeper, demonic vocals, while Brady has the higher pitched visceral snarling, giving them an extra dynamic. At one point Dan just steps away from the mic and just growls into the crowd and we can still hear him fine. Impressive control and projection credit to him, the bear that he is. The crowd don’t need much warming up on this fine summer evening but, fair play, Conjurer came in hot.

I’ve said it before but, when we think about alternative music in South Wales, we automatically go to Cardiff and the valleys feeding the capital, as let's be honest, we’ve been spoiled for choice. From Merthyr Tydfil and THE BLACKOUT, who have just recently reformed ahead of Download, (Their hometown comeback show sold out quicker than you can ask Sean Smith S’appenin? Purely ironically) to Blackwood and the MANIC STREET PREACHERS, down through Pontypridd and the LOSTPROPHETS. Granted that last one is a sheep so black not even the most woke Welshman would associate...but, I digress.  

However, what about Newport? TJ’s was often cited as one of the best live venues to ever exist in the UK, they’ve given us Diverse Vinyl, the UK’s largest source of new vinyl records, they’ve given us FEEDER, there’s a whole lot of gas left in SKINDRED’s helicopter, and, we can’t be forgetting those comedic rap terrorists GOLDIE LOOKIN’ CHAIN. It’s 2023 now; your mother could very well have that penis. Newport has been overlooked let’s be fair, and today’s band are hoping to grab some attention for Wales’ third largest city. Let me introduce you to CRISIS TALKS. 

The three-piece, consisting of vocalist David Lloyd Chapman, guitarist and peddle wizard Mark William Squire, and drummer James Clement are preparing to release their debut album; “Heavy The Heart”, on June 15th. David got in touch with me recently asking me to attend a launch show, at the Little Taphouse; Newport, but I was sadly double booked. The least I could do however, would be to agree to give the album a listen and a little write up. The question is, will I be having crisis talks with myself after listening to this album? Let’s find out... 
 
We open up with the track “Dancer”, but truth be told I’m not moving a muscle. OK that’s a little harsh. We’ve got a solid dose of classic, riff-rich hard rock, with some rather funk-laden bass and assertive percussion, leading this admittedly rhythmic track. Vocally here David is interesting as, he finds himself somewhere between Daron Malakian and Benjamin Kowalewicz tonally in places. It’s got a mellow transitional section which keeps things interesting, and ultimately, it’s a decent start. 

Follow up track “Dark Cold War” houses a far grittier, angst-riddled feel, with groove aplenty in the bluesy, hard rock instrumentation and off-kilter, semi-prog inspired delivery. Slicker in production too, despite the slightly stop-start approach vocally, and again we have another similarly placed mellow filler section dividing the track. That intro though, minimal but very effective; catchy simplicity. 

Sticking to the meatier offerings, we’ve got “Submission”, and we have some light and subtle 90’s grunge aesthetics at play, amidst a back-drop of almost tribal percussion, and some of the albums cleanest, melodic vocal displays. As it progresses, we again find them groove-rich in presentation, so credit to the trio for their consistency. “Undone” has a more vibrant, almost indie-inspired alt.rock vibe to it, and here, especially vocally, it reminds in parts of PLACEBO. This is certainly an album highlight. David, on purpose or not here, has this nasally twang that pays homage to Brian Molko in the sincerest way, it’s actually more entertaining than Placebo’s newest album. It wouldn’t sound out of place on “Sleeping With Ghosts” frankly. 

Speaking of spooks, “Ghosts” champions a far softer, acoustic approach from the three-piece initially, but does descend into flutters of more metallic fret-work, while “Monsters” takes that acoustic influence and channels the likes of JEFF BUCKLEY, which is praise indeed. Not as tortured poetically, not as vulnerable vocally, David isn’t quite that open book, but this is damn close. Finally, then we finish up on “Soundcheck”, and we’ve got ourselves a lovely, sombre guitar ballad, with emotive instrumentation and a legitimately moving guitar solo. 

When I walked into this album, I didn’t know what to expect. Without wanting to shit on my own doorstep, a lot of the more “local” artists that have come my way haven’t left me truly inspired. Take my recent PENNY RICH review for RIFF YARD MEDIA for example. But, while this album isn’t perfect per se, there’s plenty of character and style here to ensure these succeed live, there’s already that certain raw quality to these tracks, and they are bound to translate well in a live setting.  

The song-writing capability and conception is there artistically, I just think they need the chance to get out there more, and truly hone their sound, as there is a lot of potential in this trio. The only crisis talks need to be about growth, commitment and dedication, as these three could do well for themselves among the current wave of UK festival regulars. “Heavy The Heart” is an emotional, back to basics rock record with some good ideas and, the only fresher thing coming out of Newport right now, is the heroin. [6] 

What is it, about the number two? Coincidence or not, the number two has seemingly had an aura of negativity in several aspects of life. If you come second in a race, you’ve technically just been the best at failing. Kids go through a phase called the “Terrible Two’s”, because most parents want to yeet their own toddlers into a woodchipper when they’re that age. Also, a number two is LITERALLY an expression for taking a shit! So, how does this apply to media? 

Let’s take films for example...a sequel, is very rarely as good as, let alone better than, the original. “Jaws” was the original blockbuster, but repetition, a 3D gimmick, and Michael Caine vs a roaring shark, sank that franchise quicker than I can sink Jack Daniels. “The Exorcist” is a horror masterpiece, one of the greatest movies of all time... “The Exorcist II: The Heretic” however, was merely possessed by bad acting and a plot so piss poor demons prayed to make it stop. The list goes on, as there’s “The Crow”, “The Lost Boys”, “Tremors” …but that’s just film. What about music? 

The “Difficult second album” is typically a recognised phenomenon surrounding sophomore releases, that finds a band or artist either making it, or breaking it. If you’ve managed to strike gold on your debut, you better be ready to back it up, because seldom does lightning strike twice, and styles, trends and popularity wane so consistently and quickly in music, you need to be on the ball. But what if your debut album blew absolutely everything out of the water, not only for that year, but this entire CENTURY to date? We’re of course about to discuss LINKIN PARK. 

When the band dropped “Hybrid Theory” in the October of 2000, it completely re-set the bar for what an alternative rock band could accomplish, as, it went on to go 12x Platinum in the US alone and has shifted over 32 MILLION copies worldwide. Linkin Park were THE hottest band on the planet, and their angst-riddled, intense yet melodic blend of hip-hop and rap, with crunching guitars and scorching vocals, saw the band reach heights many can only dream of. They had a problem on their hands though; how in God’s name would they, or more importantly COULD they, follow this up? Well, damnit they had an answer for that! 2023 marks the 20th anniversary of that seemingly impossible second album, “Meteora” ...let's look back and see how they faired. 

We start off very annoyingly here with “Foreword”, as it’s beyond pointless as a stand-alone track. It’s a 13 SECOND intro of gently pouring rain, and light knocking until you hear glass shatter, transitioning into the next song; “Don’t Stay”. That’s it. You may as well have simply extended “Don’t Stay” by those 13 seconds and absolutely nothing would have changed, because it already blends well, and these decisions just baffle me. Conceptually there are elements in this brief sequence that could allude to say, a glass ceiling, the band breaking through barriers and boundaries to achieve what few have done in recent times, before the actual track kicks in with the slowly built riffs, until it erupts with its nu-metal gloriousness. In some ways it could be seen as a subtle dig at their label, who pushed for more of the same following their debuts success, the headache of contractual obligations, being told who to be, how to sound, while naturally it could easily be about a failed relationship. It screams of wanting to be done with something, someone, wanting to grow, to evolve on your own terms, and it’s a powerful opener. 

Next up then we have the first single to be taken from the album; “Somewhere I Belong” …and if the predecessor had four singles, then “Meteora” had to have five. “Somewhere I Belong” sonically in ways, with some of the music video presentation and structure, felt like, a semi-canonical successor, or follow-up to “In The End”, with Chester’s minimal vocal melodies complimenting Mike’s bars, before a harder hitting chorus line and well utilised heavier elements. Grittier, ample Japanese Gundam influence, following on from "Reanimation", but still very much Linkin Park, and they clearly showed consistency upon this release. Again though, at what cost? Mike spits lines like “Just stuck, hollow and alone, and the fault is my own” …were they victims of their own success, doomed to live in Groundhog Day creatively? 

Now, I’m no gambling man; I couldn’t tell a poker-face from a resting bitch face if my life depended on it, but I know unfavourable odds when I see them, and, this review, is certainly not in my favour. I’m either going to go viral, albeit very briefly, and the world will move on (Is that too neurotypical of an assumption?) or I’m going to get cancelled. OK, I’m probably not going to get cancelled because, I’ll write reviews regardless of what you think (If since 2014 you haven’t grasped that by now, I don’t know what to tell you) but this, is a challenge even Geraint Pillock would second guess in his time travelling coracle. We’re going to talk about WILLIAM CONTROL. 

Before we go any further, we have to address the elephant in the room, and as if elephants weren’t noticeable enough, this fucker’s wearing PVC and fishnets. Back in 2018, William, (WiL Francis, formerly of AIDEN) released the “Revelations” album, following on from his run of highly lauded and well-received EP’s, amalgamating the releases into one cohesive compilation, and musically, you couldn’t fault him. He blended a sense of retro synth-driven Goth-pop if you will, with his dark, BDSM-inspired counter-religious lyricism. Then it all went nipples north. 

Many girls and young ladies, fans of William, came forward, with claims and allegations of grooming, sexual abuse, manipulation and rape, from his time on the road. These are not things, that I take lightly, let it be known, and I do not condone this AT ALL. Victims need to speak out, and get justice, I endorse that whole-heartedly. HOWEVER. William, to his own detriment, sat down, and shared very damning, very intimate conversations from social media messenger Apps, from several of the accusers, highlighting not only consensual activities, but almost begging from the parties involved.  

The whole thing got William cancelled for the best part, he lost his wife, access to his child at the time, and he was very open and honest about his lifestyle, which to very many, would render him an unfaithful, absolute fuckboy. LEGALLY however, there were never any charges brought to him, so despite how uncomfortable those videos were, where he bared his shame, and affairs to the world, technically, in the eyes of the law, he is innocent. A walking red flag perhaps, and in terms of grey areas morally, he’s greyer than that fucking elephant.  

This is the point now which I believe that, will probably get me some heat, as I’m about to do what no alternative UK publication I’m aware of, is willing to do; review William Control’s new album. “Sex Cult” is available on Apple Music and Spotify from April 14th, but here, on GTGC, we have a UK exclusive. Before we press play, remember, wear protection, and the safe word is pineapple...let’s go. 

The album kicks off with “Hell” which is a wonderful place to start! How much worse can things get, right? The track immediately bounces into life with some very, NEW ORDER inspired synth notes and this has a wonderfully 80’s vibe to it. It lyrically very self-reflective, quite literally as he looks himself in the mirror, and speaks of solitude, loneliness and repenting. If you’re going through hell, well, you’re going through hell with me. Facing things head on. Is this, the beginning of a redemption ark for William? Is he acknowledging the past and looking to put it right? 

The title track; “Sex Cult” continues down the route of rich electronica, instrumentally, but this takes on a somewhat darker tone. It’s slower and more focused, like latter day DEPECHE MODE, and here he very openly tackles the topic of conversation, very directly referencing himself as the villain, the scoundrel that was welcomed into bed, as he recalls the intimacy of his dastardly dabbling's. There’s a quick nod to consent in the second verse, with the line  “...only if you’re willing, you recognise the price...”  and as a track, it works fine, though, the female sexual moans at the tracks climax are a little bit excessive to be fair, somewhat spoiling the track, sounding corny. 

Next, we have the first of two early promotional singles, going back two years I guess to gauge fan reaction and see where he stood among the court of public opinion. “Baptized” brings the tone back up to a more jovial presentation, as the keys sound brighter, livelier, though it has this juxtaposition of warring ideology, blurring the lines between light and dark. “Oh take me down to the riverbanks, and wash away my sins and hate, you can teach me how to celebrate this brand new life in love, oh Lucifer”...it’s suggesting he wants to start afresh, but he’s so accustomed and friendly with the darkness, so comfortable, there’s almost a conflict of interest veiled here, and it’s interesting. 

The second single was “Abuse”, and again here things take a darker turn. Referring to himself as the revenant, dressed well and decadent, there’s a smugness to his character and presentation here, and he doesn’t hold back on detailing his affairs. “Hey there baby I have tallied up the names, and the notch marks, on my withered dirty bed frame...”, and “Now you feel the pain of losing all you had, the bed you made is sad; suicidal...well take this comfort, take my only kind advice, don’t fall in love with me; don’t fuck your idol”. That lyric right there is bound to trigger and upset the vast majority and what’s uncomfortable is that he probably sang that with a wink and a wry smile. Complete and utter shithousery from Control here, and he knows it. Turning real life experience, pain and such into powerful art is one thing, but that line is positively cruel. 

The whole album in some way, shape or form tackles the entire situation, such as “Allegations”, which in its own way, exudes a sense of false self-pity and crocodile tears, especially if we’re to go by previous highlighted lyrics. Suggesting he’ll pay the price for his bad reputation and villainy, considering he’s back making music after not being charged, I’d say he was doing just fine. Finally, then, we round things up with a cover of “My Way” by FRANK SINATRA, and if this hasn’t been done in the fullest sense of irony, I don’t know what to say. He may as well record himself laughing maniacally into the microphone for 3 minutes. This is beyond tongue-in-cheek, because MARK TREMONTI he is not.  

Ultimately then, it comes to this; how the fuck do we score this album? Removing the artist from the art, and looking at this album, purely as an album objectively, it’s absolutely fine. If you are fan of 80’s inspired synth-pop, electronica with darker, Gothic-based imagery, this album delivers aplenty, even if the traditional BDSM tropes William throws in conceptually aren’t necessarily your thing, musically, this is a frankly enjoyable record. It flows well, the instrumentation is vibrant and it’s been produced well, resulting in a crisp, clear listen.  

The issues that come with this album, are to do with William himself, and where you personally stand morally, with whatever integrity you have as an individual. As stated, there were very many accusations and allegations made against William, and while he may not have been charged, the young women involved aren’t simply going to forget what they believe they experienced, and what they’ve gone through with all of this being very public. His lack of legal conviction doesn’t automatically lessen THEIR conviction in what they claim. This album WILL stir the pot, and if you’re easily offended, knowing what the situation is, you are probably best avoiding this. Neutral? It’s a solid record, that creatively sticks to a proven formula given the success of the EP’s. [7] 

2023, officially started, with ALL of the bang, and a welcome lack of whimper. (“The exact, polar opposite to the night I lost my virginity to be fair!”, he laughs, as a single tear rolls down his cheek). I digress; we are in-fact talking about everyone’s favourite darkly romantic, albeit positively bleak, modern-day Goth daddy VILLE VALO. The former HIM front man got Heartagram’s breaking on the bands 2017 farewell tour, but, in the years since, through a rollercoaster of feelings and emotions, ranging all the way from equanimity to intrigue and anxiousness, he got them racing once more this January, when he released the sonic defibrillator that is “Neon Noir”.  

Now, the admittedly stunning solo record, was covered quite extensively within the alternative music press as it is, as it charted well around Europe (Including a UK Top 30 slot in the vinyl charts), and with his European tour currently in full swing, we must satiate our rejuvenated musical lusting's, with all things love-metal inspired, and get right back into the thick of it, which brings us to today's band; FLOVER.  

You may remember Flover from my 2020 review of “Songs Of Our Broken Hearts”, from which we played a tongue-in-cheek game of HIM Bingo, as the sweet rockers had zero shame in wearing their Heartagram’s on their sleeves, being influenced by Finland’s finest. 2023 finds the fan boys on fine form, as they release their latest album “Love’s Poetry & Dead Melodies”. Eyes down folks, it’s time for another round, but, in this year of thee and me, are we talking two little ducks, or giving too little fucks? Let’s find out... 

Now before we proceed, the whole HIM-Bingo game itself is FAIRLY loose in terms of rules and such; we’re essentially just looking for similarities and parodies, cheeky nods to other songs if you will. Imitation IS the sincerest form of flattery after all. So, with that in mind, we open up with (According to their Bandcamp at least) “Requiem Of Love”, which is an immediate Bingo-card crossed off, as it references “Love Metal” and the bonus track “Love’s Requiem”. The track starts with some incredibly gentle synths, and houses all of the typically slow-chugging riffs you’d expect from a HIM track. Vocally too it’s an ode to Ville, with the similarities in baritone drawl, soaring moments and hushed subtlety. It’s absolutely fine as a track, and could easily pass as a HIM demo, without implying any negativity. 

Next up we have “Suffering” and this one initially has a brief whiff of “Dark Light” regarding the synth delivery and tone here. Again, it’s only subtle, but HIM fans will easily pick up and appreciate the recognition. It’s got ample chorus melody and transitions, and they even deep dive into Ville’s own tastes as there’s a cheeky nod to “Crazy Train” by OZZY OSBOURNE thrown into the mix occasionally on guitar. “Just Our Autumn” has “Razorblade Romance” levels of production all over it, and it reeks of “Join Me (In Death)” but, let’s be honest, that’s never a bad thing. The throwback nostalgia this induces is sweeter than any number of sixes. 

The fun doesn’t stop there either, folks, as “Wonderland”, or it’s chorus structure at the very least is very unashamedly “Salt In Our Wounds” from “Deep Shadows & Brilliant Highlights”. It’s uncanny by this point, that you could quite easily state that Flover were HIM from an alternate dimension and do you know what? I don’t think anyone would call you a liar. “Dance With Me” then steps it up a gear in terms of grit and attitude, with the guitars oozing hard rock swagger, but, what’s this? This too is familiar? Of course, it is, there are more than enough nods to “Soul On Fire” here in the instrumentation, it’s just not AS aggressive, fast-paced or intense.  

“Agony In Your Eyes” then, tonally finds itself somewhere between “And Love Said No” and the gloomier aspects of 2007’s “Venus Doom”, before we eventually get the abbreviated “L.Y.L.I.C.”, which couldn’t possibly be in reference to “Tears On Tape” and “W.L.S.T.D.” could it? Surely not? An abbreviation of “Love You Like I Can”, it actually serves as a 2-in-1, as we could argue it also references “Love You Like I Do”, especially as it’s a deep rock ballad with a slow tempo and impassioned vocals.  

All in all, if you are reading this, you could easily think, Gav, why are you picking so many holes here? Can’t they just enjoy what they create in honour of something they care so very much about? Well, they absolutely can, and on this, their 3rd full-length album, they haven’t disappointed. Sure, it looks like I’m calling them rip-off merchants with a near copy-and-paste formula that’s bordering on identity theft, but that’s admittedly part of the appeal. As a HIM fan, while it is genuinely appreciated that a band has taken it upon themselves to continue HIM’s niche style and sound, you can’t help but have a chuckle and a bit of banter when some of these things are so blatantly obvious.  

Be it a riff, a lyrical likeness, a melody, a vocal delivery; some of these similarities we’ll say, are plain to see, and with Flover, that’s a key contributing factor of what makes them such an enjoyable listen. I respect what they are, and legitimately recommend checking them out. Not a fan of HIM but just generally enjoy Gothic-tinged melodic rock? Here’s a new band for you to check out. You ARE a HIM fan and still miss HIM, even though VV is currently active? Maybe you couldn’t get tickets for VV’s European tour and need cheering up? Get your fix here, without taking life too seriously. It’s a win/win really. [7]