I opened the post half-asleep, looking for that USB bidet I swear I ordered off eBay. Instead, there’s this THING. Heavy, and it’s just sat there like a brick of haunted meat. I stared at it for a bit. Had a lager, warm obviously. Had another. Unwrapped it and stared at it blankly.

Put disc one on. "Slowly We Rot". 1989. I think I was 15 when I heard it first—skint, spotty, shoplifting Salt ’n’ Shake crisps with Lee, who later lost a toe. The whole thing sounded as if a diseased cow fell down a metal staircase. Tardy’s vocals are not words, they’re not even close. Just these retching, beautiful, wet belches of grief. It sounds like he’s contracted some prehistoric lung infection. I love it.

Disc two… "Cause Of Death". Suddenly, OBITUARY has got TEETH. James Murphy is playing guitar like it’s fucked his wife. "Chopped In Half" came on, and I started barking. Legit barked. Woke up the cat. Beer all over the floor. Don’t care. The floor needed it.

Disc three’s "The End Complete". Somewhere around track four, I forgot how the calendar works. The police knocked as they’d had complaints about the noise. I tell them to sit. They did. We hung out and chain-smoked through the whole disc in silence. It was, religious. Not in a Jesus way. More in a “We’ve seen hell and it’s groovy” way There’s a riff in "I’m In Pain" that reminded me of falling into an escalator.

Then… "World Demise". 1994. You can tell there’s paranoia baked in. Cleaner riffs, but not in a healthy way. The guitars are trying to behave, but the rot still seeps through. Industrial clangs here and there. Samples maybe. It could be the radiator. Or I was having a minor stroke. But it SOUNDS like how bins smell in August.

The box is nice. A slipcase with Jewel cases inside gives it a proper retro feel, except now everything’s sticky. Liner notes are somewhere under a pizza, and one of the postcards ended up in the loo. If you don’t own this, you’re either vegan, dead, or under house arrest.
 
Score: 8/10 Swollen Uteruses. [Editor: I'm guessing we're talking Endometriosis as opposed to pregnancy?]

Words: Matt Denny

Gather your glitter, tighten your corset, and clutch your pearls; SIGNS OF THE SWARM have just birthed a record so heavy, so unflinchingly personal, it will make your false eyelashes fall clean off.

“To Rid Myself Of Truth” is a record dressed in leather, blood, and the quiet tremble of a man finally speaking truths he’s spent years screaming over. David Simonich has turned his Stargardt disease into a powerful force. This isn’t pity porn; it’s pain with a backbeat and a breakdown that ruptures your ribcage.

This is deathcore theatre. Every track a curtain drop, every guttural snarl a soliloquy. “Scars Upon Scars” had me clutching my velvet fainting couch. Addiction, redemption, the slow and awful burn of self-awareness, it’s Shakespeare in drop tuning. "Macbeth" if "Macbeth" had blast beats and a snare that sounds like it’s been punched in the face.

“HELLMUSTFEARME” made me want to set fire to a church and then cry in the pews. Not since I accidentally saw CANNIBAL CORPSE without earplugs have I experienced such sweet, obliterating agony.

Down-tuned guitars slither like venom through every verse. The drums go off like someone hammering nails into the coffin of your former self. The production is positively vile, as if someone took a diamond and dipped it in sewer water.
This record may be drenched in trauma, but it's also strangely triumphant. It struts. It KNOWS it’s ugly and dares you to look anyway. There's a queasy glamour to it.

​"To Rid Myself Of Truth" doesn’t just peel back skin, it peels back soul. It's camp and it's catharsis in corpse paint.

SCORE: 9/10 bloodied feather boas. Words: Matt Denny.

TALLBOY. Not to be confused with some amplified pub bore on stilts singing FRANK SINATRA’s "My Way" on the karaoke, though I’ll admit the decibel levels are similar and both seem hell-bent on rupturing your inner ear. Only one of them, however, is a weaponised hymn to collapse. This particular Tallboy a five-headed sonic siege engine from Cumbria. They've just released "House Of Glass", which I initially assumed referred to the Gherkin-shaped building in London. But I was very wrong. This isn’t some sterile phallic tribute to capitalism. This is a cathedral of feedback and fury, lit from within by flickering trauma and probably condemned by planning authorities.



TRACK ONE: "INSOMNIA".
If you weren’t suffering before, you will be. It’s a migraine with sirens. You won’t sleep. You’ll be too busy checking the walls for structural damage and wondering whether your spleen is supposed to vibrate.

TRACK TWO: "SNAKE".
Had METALLICA grown up in Workington and been angry about the price of a Greggs sausage roll, you might get somewhere close to describing Tallboy, but you’d still be wrong.

TRACK THREE: "Name & Shame".
FINALLY, an anthem for vengeance. There’s a spreadsheet of people who’ve crossed me, and this track is what I play while highlighting their names and pressing delete. Fast, merciless, and frankly rejuvenating. I listened to it three times, then streaked down the high street just for the sheer thrill.

TRACK FOUR: "Ego Trip".
It builds with the quiet menace of a houseplant that’s learned how to plot revenge, then detonates in your ribcage. If this had been playing every time Donald Trump entered a room, we’d all have been spared the second season.

TRACK FIVE: "Pressure Point".
Now with an accompanying video, because apparently audio demolition alone wasn’t thorough enough. It sounds like a group therapy session for poltergeists, conducted entirely in screams and bass drops, with breakthroughs measured in shattered glass.

​"House of Glass" is emotionally volatile, instrumentally violent, and quite possibly illegal in certain jurisdictions, especially on a Tuesday.

SCORE: 7 cracked windows of Capitalism. Released 25 July 2025. Words: Matt Denny

You know how sometimes you find a really good biscuit behind the sofa, and you don’t even remember putting it there, but you take one bite and it’s like--BOOM!—jammy centre, crunchy edge, everything amazing all at once, and you shout “YES PLEASE!” even though you’re entirely alone and probably meant to be vacuuming? Well, "Go!" by ROULETTE is just like that! Except with fewer crumbs, more guitars, and absolutely no raisins, which is ideal.

From the very first track, I knew I was in for a treat. It’s got that sort of big, zoomy sound that makes you want to leap onto a moving car and shout encouraging things at people doing stunts. You can really feel the drums in your knees, and the guitars are doing that lovely thing where they sound like they’re about to burst into flames, but in a polite and very Swedish way.

And the SINGING! I don’t know who taught this man to do that with his voice, but I hope they got a medal and a chocolate orange. He hits notes that made my ears go all fizzy—like pop rocks in a glass of lemonade—and then he swoops down into the sort of growly bits that make you want to phone your mum to say, “Hi, love you, everything’s fine, but I’ve just heard something AMAZING.”

There’s this one song—I think it’s called “What Are We Looking For” or possibly “Strangers” or maybe “Please Mind the Gap” (No, hang on, that might’ve been something else)—but anyway, it really goes for it. Just when you think it’s finished being brilliant, it pops back up with a solo that made me throw a cushion across the room in celebration. The cat didn’t like that, but sacrifices must be made in the pursuit of ROCK.

There’s this one with a keyboard bit that sounds like lasers doing jazz hands. I didn’t even know I needed that in my life, but I did. Ten out of ten.

The whole album is like being invited to a very loud party on a spaceship piloted by Bon Jovi, and everyone’s wearing leather trousers but no one’s being weird about it. It’s proper melodic rock, but not in a “Dad’s had two lagers and wants to talk about Boston” kind of way—more, “Let’s build a time machine and high-five 1986” sort of thing.

In conclusion: if this album were a dessert, it would be a triple-layer cake filled with fire and determination and probably some kind of highly flammable jam. I loved it. I played it three times in a row and then accidentally saluted my stereo. Honestly, I haven’t been this excited since I discovered you can fry cheese.

​So yes—Roulette’s "Go!" is spiffing. Loud, shiny, and extremely good at making you feel like your hair is longer than it is. I give it seven guitars, a drum kit, and a massive Swedish flag made entirely out of joy. [Editor: Is that out of 10 Matt or out of a Keenan & Kel outro?] GO get it! (See what I did there? Because of the name? Oh well. I'll see myself out.)

Words: Matt Denny

Good day and hello, fellow music fanatics! Today we will be talking about the solo debut from MARK ACEVES, who those of you in the know will recognize as the bringer of the low end thunder for the heavy rock juggernaut known as ZED. What you may not know is that Mark is a man of many talents, as he is a multi-instrumentalist, a fantastic singer, and one hell of a songwriter. Mark; as the Bandcamp description says,

“...Breaks free and steps into the spotlight with his solo debut "Magnum Dopus" "— a loud, unfiltered testament to loss, love, rebellion, and refusing to go quietly.
Written fast and raw between January and April 2025, "Magnum Dopus" captures the energy of a life lived with fists clenched and heart wide open.”

Following the death of Zed's drummer, Sean Boyles, the band went into a hiatus as they grieved his loss. Mark was extremely close to Sean, both personally and as musicians, so this album can be seen as his tribute to him, while also honouring the important people in his life. I believe that this pushed him to create something special, because that's precisely what "Magnum Dopus" is. 

I asked Mark to supply his thoughts on what he accomplished, and he was kind enough to share this with us …

“This album is really close to my heart because at its core it's both about the people I love, and it's about themes and ideas that are things I believe in. Things that I've had to put into practice to make it through to the next day at different points in my life. I use this album to honour my father and friend/drummer Sean Boyles who both passed away within a year of each other. I use this album to tell my wife how much I love her, and to give my kids some words of wisdom and love for when I'm no longer here to tell them. And then I use this album to remind myself that when the chips are down, and I'm on the floor, bloodied and beaten by life's punches, that I still need to get back up and fucking keep fighting. Even if I fail, I will know I did everything I could to rise above and keep putting one foot in front of the other. And I hope others can get that same inspiration from it.”

So let's talk about a few of the highlights on this album FULL of highlights. 

“Still Ain't Dead” contains the lyric, “You're not gonna live it until the day that you start” which is one of the most powerful messages on this album. Not only for the way it's worded and sung, but also because it also reeks of the positive nature that permeates the entire album. It's blunt in nature, but it's also an absolute truth that we all, as humans, must realize before it's too late. 

“Just Your Disguise” is probably the most catchy of all of the tracks on "Magnum Dopus", especially the chorus. Plus, Mark's bass tone is absolutely massive, and captures the sound and vibe of this album perfectly … gritty and raw, but perfectly so!!!

“Daisies” sounds as if Kurt Cobain wrote it, as it has the overall vibe that NIRVANA's Insecticide album does … which, as a side note, is my preferred Nirvana album. It's bouncy and memorable, like all of the great songs of the past 50 years. 

The last track, “For My Children”, is also the most emotional, as it was written for his children. The lyrics spell out his hopes and dreams for them, as well letting them know how much he loves them. I've watched Mark post about his kids for several years now, and he's one hell of a Dad, those kids are super lucky to have him. 

There's not a single song on here that feels phoned in, which, in my opinion, is because of the importance of the reasons behind this album existing in the first place. There's zero filler to be found, each and every sound that you will hear is precisely what is needed to make each song great. 

One of the coolest aspects of "Magnum Dopus" is that it feels REAL. I think that is due in part to the DIY approach that Mark took, as well as his performances and the overall tone of the record when taken as a whole; some of this is from the excellent mix, which Mark was also responsible for. So head to Bandcamp, or wherever you listen to music, and give this album a bit of your listening time. You will not be disappointed in doing so!!! [8]

Words: Tom Hanno

By the gods of thunder and circuitry, I have found it. A land uncharted. A kingdom carved from distortion and fire. They call it "Re-Evolution". The natives go by the name DEVILSKIN, and I believe I’ve stumbled upon their magnum opus. This is not a recording; this is a living, breathing beast built from anguish, muscle, and melody.

My first encounter sounded primal and exacting, it surged through me like a blood oath. No preamble. No mercy. It felt as if I had stepped barefoot into a ritual I couldn’t comprehend. Jennie Skulander’s voice summoned gods I do not know by name. She doesn’t sing; she conjures. From delicate echoes to banshee wails, she maps the terrain of pain and triumph without a compass.

The terrain shifted and a sandstorm of riffs and percussion, scorching and relentless. I ducked for cover and found none. The album continues like an oasis, but even its waters shimmered with unrest. I began to understand, this album is built on contrast. Rage and grace live in twin towers here, each echoing the other’s scream.

Themes emerge of grief, addiction, phobia, decay. They’re not presented as artifacts to be examined. They’re alive, stitched into every note. DEVILSKIN aren’t storytellers. They are the storm and the wreckage, the ghost and the grave. Somehow, this doesn’t collapse under its own weight. It rises. "Re-Evolution" does not wallow in despair, it devours it, digests it, and builds something stronger from its bones.

The instrumentation is staggering. Paul Martin’s bass feels tectonic, shifting the very ground beneath this strange new world. Nic’s drumming isn’t just rhythm, it’s language. As for Nail, his guitar doesn’t merely shred. It paints. Cinematic, chaotic, sacred.

The production by Dave Rhodes is not a studio trick. It’s cartography. Every drum hit, every breath of feedback, every gasp in the silence, it all feels placed with ritualistic intent. The landscape is dense, yet navigable. Foreign, but familiar in that way danger sometimes is.

I came expecting metal. I found "Re-Evolution". A culture. A movement. An awakening.
If you dare tread here, tread carefully. There is no safe passage. Only fire, truth, and the most glorious noise I’ve ever survived.

Score: 9 / 10 – "Machete in Hand, Shirt Long Torn Off" - Words: Matt Denny

They say that nice guys finish last...nice guys get walked over, nice guys get overlooked; but not every nice guy is arguably the hottest property in rock and roll right now. Finish last? (Firstly, that’s the gentlemanly thing to do). Some nice guys are just truly getting started, because they are beginning at breaking point...sick and tired of the snapped synapse that is the music industry. Sick of the disconnect between corporate greed and the common man. Sick of the bullshit. They want to make the world better... 

Artists with good intentions DO come and go...BOB GELDOF tried the whole “Band Aid” thing, and it was literally like putting a Hello Kitty plaster over a glioblastoma. Forty years later Bob, you’ve re-released the same track more than once with fresh line-ups, gradually getting less Christmassy and more cringeworthy, (Which is a good thing to be fair as you were the musical equivalent of colonialism to an extent) and yet mosquito nets to this day still save more mosquitos from dying of aids than your aid does saving children dying of starvation. DAVID DRAIMAN, I hope your label and PR team leaves you dangling like your stupid fucking chin tusks, for personally signing missiles that’ll undoubtedly kill civilians you tactless cunt. Down with the sickness? You’re just down in everyone's estimations. U2 once hacked us to give us a free album on iTunes...hacked is a strong word, sorry...let me rephrase that; RAPED. U2 forced an album on us without consent, I guess that’s how The Edge gets off? I digress... 

Jokes aside, today we’re here to appreciate and learn about YUNGBLUD. Real name Dominic, Yungblud has never shied away from controversy or criticism, be it in his early image and fashion sense on stage, or the sheer honesty of his song writing, to even starting up his own festival to ease the chokehold on extortionate organizers, and, from his emergence on “21st Century Liability”, this Yorkshire-born youngster has grown into one of the most vitally important artists in rock and alternative music. He champions the people, he’s an empath, he cares about community...he cares A LOT, and not many so unashamedly put the people first. 2025 found Yungblud scoring another number one album with “Idols” ...and before we jump into this headfirst, BILLY IDOL once said “Rock isn’t art, it’s the way ordinary people talk”, so let’s talk... 

The opening track “Hello Heaven, Hello” is a beautifully ballsy move at just over nine minutes long. There's no short, sharp introduction to this album, we dive straight into the grandiose with an ambitious indie-rock opera, and you know immediately this is going to be something different, something special. It’s a journey of self-discovery, and he’s asking if you’re along for the ride. It’s a track about finding your truth, your identity and the tribulations you persevere through; the ambitions you nurture and the goals you aspire to in the face of negativity and adversity. Amidst an up-beat indie rock core sound we have wonderfully arranged orchestral pieces, hard rock riffs, vocal vitriol and a true longing for life. We take elements of QUEEN, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”, BLACK SABBATH, OASIS, THE VERVE...it’s truly a modern rock masterpiece. Yungblud proves you don’t have to play heavy to go hard, as the emotions and eccentricities here are raw and real. This is a superb song... 

This transitions wonderfully into “Idols Pt.1” and there are almost James Bond elements here with the string instrumentation. We’ve got another track about diversity and emancipation. Girls and boys are irrelevant here; a gender-fluid ideology of who you really are at heart, and who you aspire to be...it’s a pained track about acceptance and empowerment. We can be our own idols; we can look into ourselves to find strength and belief and we shouldn’t let other people suffocate our dreams. Everyday people, believing in themselves and it's a sweet little melodic indie-pop number. 

This then blends wonderfully into the single “Lovesick Lullaby” and the Brit-Pop elements really shine through here. It gives off BLUR “Park Life” vibes with it’s almost narrated verses and light guitar notes, coupled with the simplistic, melodic chorus hooks. The switch between electric and acoustic guitars, the backing gang vocals; it all amounts to this brief but brilliant little track full of character, tackling self-doubt and insecurity. It’s like Dom is having fun with his own vulnerability and personality and acknowledging stifled yet tumultuous emotional dilemmas.  

We go straight into the sombre next as we have one of the most emotionally hard-hitting tracks you’ll hear this year, or ever, courtesy of “Zombie”. A truly heart wrenching track about coming to terms with loss, protecting your loved ones from hurt, mental health, and knowing time is precious. It’s about loving unconditionally in the face of hardship and truly knowing that there are people out there that care. There’s a genuine sense of sadness oozing from the guitars here that tearfully carry Yungblud’s tender vocal delivery and it’s a genuinely beautiful ballad; easily an album highlight. 

Similar can be said for personal album highlight of mine “Monday Murder”, which carries this jovial, melodious acoustic led guitar tone. It’s light, airy and houses an almost blissful ignorance to the chaos of the world, an apathy to the conflict. It’s touching in its melancholy to the point it acts as a prayer for healing, and a yearning for change. We could go on further about the enormity of the emotional aspects of this album, with simply stunning tracks like “Ghosts” and “War” too, but we’d be here all day. Go and appreciate the album for yourself, not just take my word for it. 

YUNGBLUD here has delivered not just a number one album, with some attention-grabbing singles like a pop star, with a cool image...he doesn’t ACT cool, that’s just Dom. He’s delivered an album so raw in genuine emotion, so real and relatable in lyricism, so undiluted in its undeniable passion for growth and togetherness, he’s cemented himself as a Bonafide 21st century rock star.  

His aura, his honesty, his dedication, his presence, his charm, his down-to-Earth character...he is legitimately the modern-day rock star the genre and the community NEEDS. “Idols” speaks to every single one of us; we have an idol locked away in all of us, our best self, be it emotionally guarded by walls from trauma, or a lack of confidence, or doubt...this album is a rallying cry for everyone of us to live. Truly LIVE. In just a few short years, his attitude and passion for not just performing, but the people, has seen Yungblud go from a 21st century liability, to absolutely essential listening. [10] 

Every morning I drag my arse out of bed at 6:12 sharp, scrape toast crumbs off the passenger seat, and spend the next ten hours being screamed at by people who think their Vauxhall Astra’s bumper has feelings. So when someone says "BORN OF OSIRIS are back", I don’t exactly drop the polisher and start moshing in the garage.

Still, I gave "Through Shadows" a go during my lunch break, wedged between a Peugeot 308 with a caved-in door and an Audi that stinks of wet dog and despair. And I’ll say this—if you’ve ever sanded filler while listening to the soundtrack of a cosmic nervous breakdown, you’re already halfway there.

The opener "Seppuku" comes in swinging like a hammer to the ribs—tight, clinical, a bit like when the dent’s so bad you know your soul’s going to leave your body before the shift’s done. "Elevate" tries to get fancy with its clean vocals and time signatures, but it just reminded me of when a customer asks for a "quick fix" and then freaks when you quote them for three days’ work and a full respray.

"Through Shadows", the title track, is full of talk about darkness and light and finding yourself, which is rich coming from a band that sounds like a Terminator meltdown in a spiritual retreat. Still, fair play, it’s the kind of track that’d fit perfectly if I ever lose it and drive straight into the river with the torch still in my mouth.

I liked "Inverno" for the riffs, mostly because they drowned out Gary in the next bay going on about his third divorce. "A Mind Short Circuiting" is what I imagine my brain sounds like after eight Red Bulls and a flat battery on a Ford Mondeo.

​They’re at their best on "Torchbearer" and "Transcendence", where everything feels like it’s about to collapse under its own weight—but in a good way, like a write-off that somehow looks better than it did new. "Blackwater" closes the album out with enough melodrama to power a thousand TikToks, but I’ll admit: it stuck with me. Like the stink of fibreglass dust and frustration in my nostrils.

BORN OF OSIRIS aren’t here to make your day better. They’re here to soundtrack the slow, grinding entropy of modern life—and if that isn’t metalcore’s true purpose, I don’t know what is. Will I listen again? Probably. At least it makes more sense than the quote I just gave to a bloke wanting his bumper "perfect" for under a tenner.

Rating: 7.5 Crushed Panels Out Of 10. (Would weld again, preferably while ignoring Gary. - Words: Matt Denny.

They said not to listen. They said it would trigger episodes. They said, “That music isn’t for you.” But they don’t know what’s in my head. They don’t know, her.
 
I heard the first track "Regeneration" through the crack in the wall. The orderly dropped his little radio. I watched him bleed from the ears, just a trickle, but he didn’t notice. I noticed. I always notice.
 
Then the forest came. Not real trees, just noise wrapped in leaves. Wires swinging from the sky. "Into the Wilderness", yes, I know that place. Been there. Lost a toe to it. Still hear it walking behind me when the lights buzz. The song plays, and I remember what it felt like to forget my name.
 
"What’s In The Box?" Don't ask that. Never ask that. It’s teeth. It’s always teeth. Psychoberrie told me herself. She leaned in close, almost too close, singing like she’d carved the lyrics into the walls of her cell with a spoon. Not a pretty voice. But necessary. "Macabaret". This one made me laugh. Not funny ha-ha. The other kind. The kind they give you more pills for. My bed floated. The drain in the corner started clapping. I had visitors in my mirror, mouthing things they won’t write down.
 
"Blood Is The New Black" gave me nosebleeds. I smelled burnt perfume and the ends of dreams that never made it to morning. It left handprints on the inside of my skull. "At The Window" didn’t scare me. I’m never scared. I make others scared. This one, however, understood me. It spoke my name. I leaned against the glass and watched the others scream. I was calm. I knew she’d come for me soon.
 
And the rest? "I Spit On Your Grave", "Darkest Desire", "Amoeba Of Madness", played, moments. Stuff you forget until it’s too late. Like the smell of bleach. Or how the floor feels when it’s covered in feathers. Or fingers. There are three interludes. I counted them. Three. Same as the locks on my door. Coincidence? You think so? Then you haven’t been paying attention.
 
This is a message. A coded one. Smuggled in under the disguise of noise. Psychoberrie is trying to reach us. She’s been inside longer than anyone. She’s mapped the place. She knows the holes in the walls.
 
I give it thirteen out of thirteen. No decimals. Decimals lie. - Words: Matt Denny

The last couple of years have been hectic as all hell for CARLA HARVEY...from getting into a long-distance relationship with ANTHRAX drummer CHARLIE BENANTE, leaving her bread-and-butter band BUTCHER BABIES, starting her own band by the name of THE VIOLENT HOUR, and also becoming a part of legendary Belgian electronic ensemble LORDS OF ACID...she's tested more waters than Flint, Michigan's department of health and safety. Matt Denny sits down with both Carla and Charlie to get the low down on everything from the crazy, to the creative and even down to the collectibles...

MATT: BEFORE WE GET STARTED ON THE NEW MUSIC, HOW ARE YOU NOW FINDING YOURSELF BALANCING YOUR NON-MUSICAL PROFESSIONAL LIFE, WITH THESE NEW MUSICAL PROJECTS?

CARLA: "It’s honestly a bit trying. I’m currently in a hotel room in Phoenix where I’m doing my 9-5 job and taking my lunch break to talk to you. Then I have a show tonight with The Lords Of Acid as their Acid Queen. But I really thrive on being active. I guess I’m just wired that way.

Even before I had this job now (Grief Specialist, end-of-life Doula, and Thanatologist) I was always busy doing something, whether it was drawing, or writing. I don’t like to sit still. Having a day job keeps me grounded and I’m passionate about it as well.

Musicians generally have to have a job when they go home nowadays. I prefer having a job rather than couch surfing (laughs). It’s just the nature of the business as things have changed and it is hard to sustain your life of of the income that you  make as a band. 

It's incredible to be able to go on tour and play music for people but the older that you get too, you start thinking about things like stability and health insurance and all these things. In the States these things are very real and I don’t thrive on not having things. I’m better when I’m comfortable, a roof over my head and a nice meal".

OK, SO, LET'S TALK ABOUT THE NEW EP AND THE WRITING...

CHARLIE: "The first song we worked on was "Sex And Cigarettes". I had the music for that for years and I really didn’t know who to apply it to, and once we confirmed that this was to be Carla's next project/new band, that was the first song that we worked on and that went really well. Then it kinda went to the next song which was "Hell or Hollywood". I would just have these songs, these riffs and Carla would ask ‘What Is That?’ and I’d say, ‘well it’s nothing right now but it’s going to be something’ and she’s like ‘could that be for me’ and I’m ‘Of Course’ so that’s the way it went".

WHAT CAME FIRST? THE MUSIC, OR THE LYRICS?

CHARLIE: "The Music"...

CARLA: "To be honest I have lyric books that I’ve had my whole life so I’ll pull something. I cut the "Sick Ones" from a journal from 1997. So those little snippets of lyrics that I have  from throughout the years that I’ve always wanted to use. But I have to kind of assess the song and feel. I immediately know what I want the song to be about when I hear it and then I’ll write the lyrics from there.

It was a very cool and organic process writing with Charlie. He’d get his guitar out most mornings after we’d have coffee and he’d start playing something and as he said I’m like ‘What is that riff for? Can I use that for my project?’ and I think Charlie could see that I was in a dark place after the band I’d been in for 15 years and started which was my baby was kind of gone from me. I didn’t know what I was going to do next and he helped the process by starting to write the songs with me and not letting me get too down in the dumps or take too much time away from being a musician".

WAS THERE A DEFINING MOMENT, WHERE YOU THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA? WHERE THE INCEPTION OF THE VIOLENT HOUR CLICKED FOR YOU?

CARLA: "I don’t know if there was a single moment, I just knew that music wasn’t over for me. I think Charlie knew that and he gave me this great gift of writing this EP with me". 

CHARLIE: "I had finished with the Anthrax record. All the writing and all that,  but I had so many songs laying around an this gave me a chance to dust them off. I love writing in this type of way. I would often say this, with Joeys voice; when I hear Joeys voice I immediately write those type of songs. When I hear Carla’s voice I immediately start writing THESE type of songs. Which is very strange but, it does things to me..."

ARE YOU NERVOUS WHEN IT COMES TO SHARING IDEAS TOGETHER?

CARLA: "I think I’m more nervous than he is. Most of the day he’s my fiancé, it’s Charlie. But I’m quite aware that he is also a prolific writer and musician. But when you’ve been together for the best part of 10 years your relationship  outside of creating music is quite different.

I was nervous at first. I’m more comfortable now with it. I think I just want him to like what I’m doing. In some instances I like something ands he doesn’t then I have to stick up for myself and say ‘No. This is what I think the lyrics should be’, and so I’ve gotten a little bit more aggressive, wouldn’t you say Charlie? We both have very strong opinions. I think. But I do let him take the lead on the music side of things and he lets me take the lead on the vocals and the lyrics". 

CHARLIE: "Absolutely. I think you’ve gotta choose your battles and, if I’ve learned anything from being in a band  with the Anthrax guys. I would bring in  a full song, sometimes the way I interpret the song is different in the way they may interpret it.  So, if I give them a demo, here’s the way it is. Sometimes I’m very adamant about I really want it to be like THIS. The feel of this is like this. But for the most part, I let them do whatever they want because they’re great at what they do. So, I have to give a little to that.

I say ‘ Here, what can you bring to the table with this one?’ and for the most part like 85-90% they get it right. So with Carla, knowing the type of music that drives her, I wouldn’t giver her something she’s going to hate. Why would I do that? (laughs) It’s a waste of time. So if I write something in the realm of  this type of thing, I know it’ll excite her and inspire her. I think that’s the most important thing is inspiration". 

HOW HAVE THINGS CHANGED CREATIVELY FOR THIS NEW EP?

CARLA: "I’m digging deeper into myself and just exploring all sides of myself. I was a kid from the Midwest that loved Rush and Lynrd Skynrd, Guns N Roses and also Pantera and things like that.  But I loved classic rock. There’s just so many things that I wanted to dive into. Just who I was back when I was a 13 year old kid and just pay homage to that kid who would be completely in awe of her life right now.

I wanted to write about things that didn’t have a place in my last band. "Hell Or Hollywood" is about the move to Los Angeles and how it felt  when I first stepped onto Sunset Boulevard in 1998 as a young girl who drove across the country by herself. I wanted to write about these things that were a huge part of my life. I wanted my story to shine through on these songs". 

DO YOU FIND IT FREEING NOW, IN A WAY, BEING AWAY FROM THE EXPECTATIONS OF BUTCHER BABIES?

CARLA: "This is the first time in 15 years that I have a blank sheet in front of me that’s mine and my own completely. The one thing I had to get over was what people would want from me, because I’d been doing some masculine guttural vocals for so long. I had to get it out of my head that’s all people wanted to hear and I had to think back to what I love and what I wanted to do and be excited by it.  Looking at that blank slate and thinking I can do what I want now. At first it was  really scary but in the end it became the most liberating feeling that I hadn’t had in a long time.

I remember being in a room, writing "Sex and Cigarettes" and thinking to myself ‘OK. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay’ and the whole vibe for writing music came back to me in that instant".

CHARLIE: "I think the most important thing for a vocalist is you want to be as versatile as possible. I always take it back to The Beatles and Paul McCartney. There are things that he does with his voice where you think it could be another singer. Paul can sing rather softly or he can put a lot of rasp onto it as well.  And Carla can sing where she can also use her voice (which I call an instrument) can make it deepen, and as Cookie Monster as she wants (Carla laughs in the background) if she wants to, as that’s a whole other style that she has and she created  for females and I think that if the time comes like in "Sick Ones" where she brings it out just a little bit more in the high pitch type of way. But there’s going to be a song or two on the next EP which she may bring out that instrument. It just depends".

CARLA: "I’m currently on tour with The Lords Of Acid and it’s a whole different style of singing. Almost pop R&B in a way. So this year there has been a lot of growth and it’s really nice to hear that people are enjoying the other side of me".

HOW HAVE YOU MANAGED, REGARDING NOT WRECKING YOUR VOICE, THROUGH THE COOKIE MONSTER STYLE VOCALS, WHEN THERE ARE QUITE A FEW THAT HAVE? WHAT TRICKS DO YOU USE?

CARLA: "It hasn’t wrecked mine as over the years I’ve learnt not to do it from my throat but from my diaphragm. As a singer you use your whole body and it became second nature to do those screams on tour. Especially with all the running around and jumping around and still being able to do them. So now I have to learn how to do the same thing with singing so hopefully that becomes natural. So far it’s been going well on this tour.

So I drink water and tea all day long, as right now I’m doing an hour and a half set by myself as a vocalist for the first time in years. So I’m the only singer and it’s quite different but I have a little nebulizer that I use. I gently hum throughout the day. I drink a lot of throat coat tea and I try to be as quiet as I can be through the day. I’m not as much fun on this tour (laughs). I have to alienate myself and just shut up all day. I’m more worried about being great for that hour and a half that I’m on stage than I am about partying (laughs). You gotta do what you gotta do".

WHAT DO YOU DO TO GET READY FOR A SHOW?

CARLA: "On this tour I do some high kicks and jumping jacks. I still do the cookie monster growls as it seems to loosen my voice. I like to be a little nervous before I go onstage so I get worked up and then when I’m up there I can just lose myself completely.

I feel like I’ve really transcended on this tour and I’m able to totally lose myself in the performance. I don’t know why it feels so different right now. Maybe I’m just happier than I have been in a long time as there’s just so much fun stuff going on right now in my life and it feels really great".

CHARLIE:  "I listen to music, do my warm ups and play along with it. With Pantera I go into Philips room and see what he’s doing and Rex comes in my room and Zakk come in and we just kinda do that thing  and jam a little. With Anthrax I kinda do the same thing. I like to be alone and zone out and warm up and get ready.

I will tell you this though, With these Metallica shows I’ve been getting a little nervous before some of the shows and I’ve been doing a shot or two just to kinda ease the nerves and it has been helping. But the one show we did in Tampa it was like 97 degree and it was so hot.  So the Crown Royale was coming back up on me. I was burping it up and it was gross".

IF THE VIOLENT HOUR WAS A COMIC BOOK SERIES, WHAT WOULD THE TAG LINE BE AND WHO IS THE TRAGIC VILLAIN?

CARLA: "That’s actually a loaded question because it kinda IS going to be a comic book series. I love comics. I write comics and I’m a huge fan of comics and have been since I was a kid. Comics and music has been my life. So I do have a masterplan with The Violent Hour. BUT I don’t want to reveal any of it right now though, as it’s a really important story to me so I can’t reveal to much of it for now". 

CHARLIE: "The logo itself has a silhouette of a female and that’s probably going to play a key role in this comic book". 

I THOUGHT THE COVER WAS GIVING OFF VERY "CHARLIES ANGELS" VIBES...

CHARLIE: "Oh, good!"

CARLA: "That was Charlie's idea for the cover!"

CHARLIE: "Well yeah...a little James Bond, a little Charlie's Angels, a bit of Austin Powers..."

HOW DID YOU GET INTO DOING THE COMIC BOOKS?

CARLA: "I went to art school before I moved to LA. I’d always wanted to draw comics. I almost went to the The Joe Kubert School of Cartoon and Graphic Art for comic book drawing in New Jersey, but, ended up a college for creative studies and they put me in automotive design instead of what I wanted to do. So, I dropped out and moved to LA to be a rockstar. But I’ve always drawn. I’ve collaborated with Z2, I’ve put out my own comics, I wrote a series about my former band which was successful. It’s a life long dream to keep writing comics as well".

WHICH HAS BEEN THE MOST EXCITING PLACE YOU FEEL YOU'VE GOTTEN TO EXPERIENCE PLAYING LIVE?

CARLA: "Oh my. Why don’t you take the lead on this Charlie!".

CHARLIE: "I’m not kissing your ass just because you’re from the UK. But, the first time we played England, I still remember it like it was Yesterday. We played a venue called the Hammersmith Palais and Lemmy came to the show. I’ll never forget that. It’s just one of those moments that I finally felt ‘Wow, we’re maybe doing something good here’. The crowd in England for us throughout the years have been so loyal. I have to say England has been like home to us especially as we got to play Donington.

For me, growing up,  reading Sounds or Kerrang magazine it was always Donington was the thing to play. Then all of a sudden Anthrax are playing Donington. It was huge. That was a huge thing for us. It was 1987 and I can tell you the bill. Bon Jovi headlining, Dio, Metallica, Anthrax, Cinderella and W.A.S.P. back when it was one day. I loved it when it was one day!". 

OH I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN, ONE AND DONE FOR WANT OF A BETTER EXPRESSION, LIFE WAS SIMPLER BACK THEN!

CHARLIE: "Over here we have a thing called Costco, where you can go and buy things in bulk. That’s basically what the festivals have become". 

YOU'RE BOTH AVID COLLECTORS OF COMICS, MUSIC MEMORABILIA, LEMMY'S POKER CHIP FOR EXAMPLE, THE LIST GOES ON. WHAT IS THE STRANGEST COLLECTIBLEYOU HAVE IN YOUR HOUSE RIGHT NOW?

 CARLA: "We have so much ‘stuff’"...

CHARLIE: "Tell him about the first time you came over here and what you saw!" (Laughs).

CARLA: "We were dating long distance for some time. The first time he flew me out to come see him, I walked into his house and there was a life size Stormtrooper in the foyer. I was like ‘THANK GOD!. Finally, a guy that’s  going to get me.’

Because I have so much stuff everywhere. So many collectables and little things I’ve had throughout the years. He has all the same stuff.  We’re like 2 collectable packrats. But when you meet someone who gets you, like for Christmas last year he got me 2 giant KISS dolls. Which era dolls did I get for Christmas? I don’t remember...",

CHARLIE: There was this company called Art Asylum in the 90’s that put out  these huge KISS dolls and they did a series of Love Gun and Destroyer and they play music too.. They’re awesome!" 

CARLA: "Wait, They play  music?! I didn’t know that!. I need to take them out of the package. That’s exciting. I can’t wait to get home and play with my toys! (laughs). We connected instantly because of things like that, and the rest is history..."

CHARLIE: "It’s KISStory, not history". (laughs)

THAT'S WHAT WE LOVE TO SEE! ANYWAY ON THAT NOTE, THANK YOU BOTH FOR TAKING THE TIME TO CHAT WITH US TODAY, IT'S VERY MUCH APPRECIATED, AND BEST OF LUCK TO THE BOTH OF YOU WITH THE VIOLENT HOUR...BEFORE I DO GO, QUICKLY, CHARLIE...DO YOU HAVE ANY UPDATES ON THE NEW ANTHRAX ALBUM YOU CAN SHARE WITH US?

CHARLIE: "Not really. It’s ALMOST done. This last song that we’ve recorded, the title is called "Watch It Go" and it’s probably the most intense song we’ve done since 'Gung Ho'"...

"The Violent Hour" EP Comes Out On July 25th Courtesy Of Megaforce Records.

"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]
 
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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]