Fat Randy - Reggaenomics

When it comes to us musicians, it’s very easy to take ourselves, to take the whole thing, too seriously. We all invest a ton of emotion and feeling into the pieces we create, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to have fun with our music. There is room for laughter as well as chops in our tunes, and no band seems to understand that better than Fat Randy, who pair some serious technical skills with a goofy sense of humor on their new full-length, Reggaenomics.

After spinning this record for a few weeks, I can honestly say that I’ve never heard anything quite like Fat Randy’s brand of punk/funk/rock. The guitar’s massive palette of sparkling yet brusque cleans, crushing distortions, and watery choruses gives each piece its own distinct flavor. The bass runs up and down the neck across complex lines, pairing perfectly with the drums’ syncopated grooves. The vocals spend most of the record spinning a disaffected if not sly demeanor, making the guttural screams that occasionally tear through the speakers that much more poignant.

Fat Randy’s sound is a bastard lab hybrid of Primus and Bad Religion—somehow simultaneously prog, punk and everything in between. “Super Best Greatest Day Ever” tears along frenetic slash beats and wild power chords at terrifying speeds, while “Scarecrow” stacks heady riffs and gloomy basslines on top of alternating measures of 7/4 and 11/8. Tracks like “If I Were Not Diogenes (I, Too, Would Wish to be Diogenes)” and the instrumental “Fruit Salad (Please Kill Me)” also feature ripping, almost atonal saxophone melodies across both jazzy syncopation and heavy chugs. With Reggaenomics, Fat Randy shows they can thrash just as much as they can math, letting their intelligence guide the composition while their hearts fuel it with adrenaline.

One of my favorite aspects of Reggaenomics is how cohesive it is as a record. While any single song stands strong just on its own, it is in the sequence of the record in which they shine. Almost every tune slides naturally into the next, the feedback of final notes building into the next song’s intro. In addition, both the opening track “Trickle Dub Policy” and the interim “Jah Gave the CIA Crack to…” provide little snippets of insanity that further the jovial and chaotic atmosphere of the music. Even the energy dynamics between adjacent songs are seamless, totally avoiding the awkward emotional changes between tracks that stunt the flow of so many albums. Listening to Reggaenomics is a total experience from front-to-back, and as someone who likes to get lost in the music I listen to, I greatly appreciate the effort it takes to create such an experience.

Hands down, Reggaenomics is a pretty weird record, full of bizarre lyrical concepts and an attitude of blissful nihilism. But it’s also one hell of a listen—their chops are top-notch, their writing is both compelling and catchy, and the songs absolutely rock. Fat Randy’s blend of technical precision, punk virulence, and an odd obsession with food leads to a wholly unique and fun listening experience. It’s a record that holds something for everyone, you included, and I’d be surprised if it took you more than one listen to find your spot in this fascinating carnival of sound.

My Top Track: “Scarecrow”

You can find more from Fat Randy, including show updates and news, by following them on Facebook. Then, head over to their Bandcamp page and grab your own copy of Reggaenomics.

Parch - S/T

Music provides a massive range of emotional release for people. We listen to music to lift our spirits, to laugh, to cry. We vent our rage through music. We commiserate through it, we connect with it. And sometimes, we get crushed by it.

There are few feelings comparable to that of standing at a show and feeling the notes physically hit you as they vibrate through the air. This is noise rock we’re talking—music so loud even the amps are screaming, spitting sound so big it drowns out thought and emotion, wholly dominating your existence for a half hour.

Translating this experience to record is a very difficult matter for lots of noise-driven acts, but on their new self-titled EP, New Jersey’s Parch has no trouble capturing the enormity of their sound. The pounding drums nearly overload my speakers, the cymbals toppling over the booming kick and sharp snare. The guitars screech with fuzz and furor, thrashing chords challenging the overdriven bass in a race to the finish. The vocals are raw and raving, each syllable scraped off the throat and strained through a scratchy filter before it reaches the mic.

The sound of Parch is vicious and deliciously chaotic, everything I could ask for and more. “The Teeth” and “Pet Cemetery” both race along at hectic tempos, riding blast beats to their catastrophic end without breaking the one-minute mark. Yet on “Harsh Soil,” Parch take their time, stomping along like they’re on a drunken funeral march. Even the opening track “Barren Land” features hissing feedback and distorted vocal clips over a guitar melody that is somehow simultaneously gorgeous and gross.

Rampant with raw energy and attitude, Parch is a record without pretense—a pile of songs soaked in static and led by honest passion. Though this is undeniably a noisy record, the energy is infectious and fun, the disaffected shouting of the vocals as sincere as they are scary. But there is no shortage of darkness either—both “Knee Deep in Devils” and the closer “Mount Misery” create a disturbing atmosphere of fury and fear the likes of which most bands only dream of approaching. 

Creating an album that captures the bedlam and volume of a live show is no simple feat; doing justice to the songs in such a context is a far taller order. Yet with their self-titled EP, Parch show themselves to be clearly up to the task. Their short collection of raucous tunes are packed with ruthless riffs, ferocious vocals, and a whole lotta heavy. Parch is a record that has had me locked in for weeks now, and I have no doubt it’ll do the same to you.

My Top Track: "Harsh Soil"

You can find more from Parch, including your own copy of their S/T, on their Bandcamp page.

44.caliberloveletter - Demo '18

If high-school-me ever heard that I now consider myself a fan of screamo, I think he might punch me in the face. But it’s undeniable—I love me some skramz. The late nineties / early aughts were a goldmine for this aggressive, abrasive, and brutally honest genre, and to my severe delight, it appears to be making a comeback. One such band braving the sound is Sweden’s 44.caliberloveletter, whose new Demo ’18 not only celebrates the insanity of skramz, but dares to bring it into a modern world.

Demo ’18 is viciously raw, oozing with live energy and unbridled potential. The hallmark chaos of screamo is certainly present as the band blasts through quick riffs and hectic changes. The dual vocals intertwine like two lovers fighting, each voice bashing against the other in an off-kilter rhythm. The drums crash beneath melodious basslines and a blaring guitar, the band blurring the line between beautiful and brutal. Yet perhaps the clearest part of this record is the intensity—44.caliberloverletter lay into their songs, yanking each tone, drum hit, and word from the core of their hearts as if it is their final act.

For only three short and quick recordings, the songs that make up this record are jam-packed with dynamics and versatility. Each piece holds up its own distinct sound, flaunting a unique approach to 44.caliber’s signature style. “messenger dove” whirls around a bright upbeat melody, “rotten teeth” smashes vicious chugs and spastic blast beats against a crooning coda, and “unplugged from reality” sulks on a somber yet driving chord progression. Additionally, there is virtually no repetition whatsoever in any song—each tune stacks lyrics and riffs one after the other, barely leaving us time to ruminate on the past before bursting into the future.

One of the things I most appreciate about 44.caliberloveletter’s Demo ’18 is how gut-wrenchingly honest it is. These three tunes sound like they were battered into the tiny mic on someone’s iPhone, and as such, there is absolutely no pretense, no “studio magic,” no second guesses. These songs are not impressions of 44.caliberloveletter, but pictures of them—the exact same way they would sound if they were playing ten feet from you in someone’s basement, thrashing about in the throes of their pained and powerful sound. And that’s one hell of a first impression to make.

If 44.caliberloveletter’s demo is truly a demonstration of their capabilities, then I can’t wait to see where their road leads. These tunes are so honest, so tastefully chaotic, and too easy to spin over and over. If you’re looking for some new music that is as gritty as it is gorgeous, look no further than this demo, because it’s packed to the brim with punch and potential, and well worth your time.

My Top Track: “rotten teeth”

You can find more about 44.caliberloveletter on their Facebook page. Then head over to their Bandcamp and snag a copy of Demo ’18 for yourself.

The 30th of February - Silence

One of the hallmarks of a great record is its ability to grab your attention and get you moving from the first few seconds. More important still is a record’s ability to keep you interested until the very last note. Displaying diversity in sound without underselling a band’s strengths is a daunting task, but with their new EP Silence, CT’s The 30th of February prove that they are more than up to the challenge.

The music that The 30th of February collects on Silence is the very antithesis of the title, raucous and unrestrained. Guitar riffs tower like the walls of an ancient city—every tone is so intimately designed that each listen reveals something new. The drums form hypnotic grooves that rise and fall like ocean waves, while the bass punches up the low end in deep and rumbling tones. The 30th combine all efforts to create gorgeous and brooding soundscapes in each piece, making it too damn easy to get lost in the instrumentation.

There is a ton of dynamic movement across Silence, and nowhere is it more apparent than in the vocals. Verses haunt in quiet corners before striking out furiously in the choruses. Lines like “I can’t cry / I can’t fly / but I won’t die for you” carry a tense and deep emotion that belies their disaffected delivery. Additionally, each song features powerful and pretty harmonies, further adding to the soundscape and tying the human presence into the monstrous instrumentation.

Despite their extremely distinctive sound, The 30th of February manages to impress each track on Silence with its own distinct mood and vitality. “Captain” drawls across a gritty chord progression before colliding with the hyper punk anthem “Codeine Chaser.” “Caffeinated Dreamscape” sulks on a heavy and hypnotic bass riff, and “I’m Alright” rides a simple, undulating chord progression until it rushes forth into a chaotic coda. Each of these four tracks create very distinct impressions of this band’s capability by exploring very different sonic territories and moods. Yet these tracks belong together—to remove any single song or even rearrange them would serve only to diminish the captivating power of this record.

Silence sounds like a voyage into the underworld, each song a leg of the journey deeper into the unknown. Rich soundscapes and emotive performances leave me feeling a palpable charge of energy after each listen. The 30th of February flaunts both their skillful playing and their tight writing on Silence. Their distinctive, driving sound and expressive performances have me completely addicted to this release; I truthfully cannot wait to see where they head next, and I can assure you that wherever this odyssey takes them, I will be right up against the barrier to cheer them on.

My Top Track: “I’m Alright”

You can find more from The 30th of February, including upcoming live shows and news, on Facebook. Then grab your own copy of Silence on their Bandcamp page.