Matt Hall - Slave Task

If there’s one thing I want from my punk rock these days, it’s intensity. Loud, fast, unforgiving. No bullshit. I want rumbling bass and sloppy power chords and spit-soaked vocals. These are the things that endeared me to punk as a kid, and though my musical tastes have since blossomed, I still find myself craving that noisy, belligerent energy. Luckily, the new EP Slave Task by NY’s Matt Hall has just the fix I was chasing.

Slave Task sounds like it was recorded live at a DIY house show—I can practically hear the sea of sweaty kids roiling in front of the band. The guitar thrashes fast power chords through a dirty overdrive. The drums smash out cut beats at hectic tempos, working the crash cymbals to the point of cracking. The bass squeals through a fuzz on par with radio static, the gain cranked so not a cent of amp noise is lost. The wavering keys sew in a creepy atmosphere as they tip back and forth between melody and noise.

Everything about this delightfully raw, and the vocals are no exception. Matt barks, growls, whines and screeches, delivering every word with a severe, almost venomous sarcasm. The lyrics are devoid of any pretense or pomp, calling out Steven Tyler’s problematic past in “You (Stolen) Future is Now” and smacking down those whiny “Punk is Dead” dinosaurs in “Obvious Trap:” “Let someone else experience for themselves, without your fucking commentary.”

The whole of Slave Task is an indictment of the bizarre and contradictory world we live in, but no song beats this drum as heavily as “Normal and Healthy.” Twice as long as all its bedfellows, this tune expertly captures the feeling of living in a dystopia. Above syncopated riffs and ringing keyboard chords, Hall scrapes hard questions from the inside of his throat: “How real does it have to be before you react?” “Will you kill to live?” The band then devolves into an absolutely maddening outro, repeating the same simplistic riff and beat over and over and over like some sort of fucked up mantra. “Normal and Healthy” is anything but, a trance-inducing counterpoint to the chaos of our days.

Slave Task is an inspiring homage to punk’s early days and early ways, updated for the 21st century struggle we’re all too damn familiar with. The riffs are fast, the energy utterly relentless. Matt Hall gives us a refreshingly fearless take on the aggression and brutal honesty so inherent in punk rock. So if you’re looking for a dose of adrenaline cut with unbridled fury, look no further; Slave Task will keep you hyped and hungry for more. 

My Top Track: "Normal and Healthy"

You can find more from Matt Hall and grab your own copy of Slave Task on their Bandcamp page.

Nalani Proctor - Nothing

As a singer-songwriter, I know how hard it is to carve out a niche that is uniquely you—especially when you’re doing it all on your own. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with someone singing their guts out while strumming an acoustic guitar; for a lot of musicians, these are their only tools for performance. And there’s nothing more DIY than using what little you have to make a lot.

Yet it’s surprising how when these same singer-songwriters are given the means to expand their recordings beyond their live sound, so many of them squander the opportunity. Rather than risk a new or bold arrangement to bring new life to a song, they stick to their safety sound, maybe slapping a little keyboard or accent strings in a few places and calling it a day. Part of the beauty of being a solo artist is embracing the inherent autonomy provided by not having to play along with anyone else. It’s an idea so many artists are afraid to explore, but Nalani Proctor embodies this ideal wholeheartedly on their latest LP Nothing.

From my first listen, it became terribly clear just how personal of a record Nothing is, and just how much went into shaping it. Each of the eleven tracks features a wholly unique arrangement, tailored to the song’s energy and emotional content. The ukulele strumming through “Go To Sleep” lulls along with a string section and a distant horn, while “Every Little Morning” contrasts a sulky acoustic guitar with a growling distorted synth. “Opinions” starts with a whisper of guitar and programming before culminating in a burst of thumping drums and grinding distortion. And though each song almost strives to sound different from its bedfellows, they are all anchored together by Nalani’s graceful and emphatic vocals.

Nalani Proctor has a fearlessness pervading each song on Nothing; every decision and performance is severely confident without sacrificing truth. To me, this is no more apparent than in “The Fool,” a ballad with sharpened claws. The instrumentation is driven by a piano and string arrangement, the band rising and falling like gentle waves. Yet Nalani’s vocal on the track is anything but tender. The melody seems sung almost through clenched teeth, admonitions delivered with restraint towards the “champion of silence.” Each word hovers just beyond patience, each syllable tinged with frustration yet delivered with powerful honesty. “The Fool” places elegance against exasperation in perfect harmony, combining them into one of the most painfully truthful and fierce pieces I’ve heard in a long while.

For an album bearing the title Nothing, there sure is a hell of a lot here to unpack and enjoy. Nalani Proctor’s music turns composition into a weapon, sharpening each song to a distinctive point that cuts right to the heart of the matter. Nothing shows a singer-songwriter really exploring the depths of opportunity inherent in their own music, bringing each piece to its full potential using arrangement and composition. It’s ambitious, audacious even, but even more so fearless, and that above all else is what listeners are going to hear, and love.

My Top Track: "Opinions"

You can find more from Nalani, including upcoming shows and news, at nalaniproctor.com. Then head over to Spotify to stream Nothing, or grab your own copy on Bandcamp.

Mickey Blurr - DIONYSUS, PART I

I’m all about music that is rich with intellectual wit and emotional honesty; the latter is the pretty much only thing I want from a record anymore. But so too do I enjoy an album that gets me moving, whose catchy rhythms and contagious melodies are the only focus, an invitation to just let it all go for a few moments on the dancefloor.

These two types of music might seem wholly antithetical to each other. I certainly used to think so. But Mickey Blurr’s debut EP DIONYSUS, PART I soaks pop-driven bangers in wit and intellect, making for a remarkably addictive listening experience.

DIONYSUS feels almost anachronistic in its composition: the bright guitars, upbeat drums and layered vocals feel so reminiscent of 80’s post-punk, as if Joe Strummer rose up to front the Smiths. Yet there is nothing old or derivative about Mickey Blurr’s music—the dynamic compositions and rapid-fire lyrics carry the ethos of our modern maddened age. Mickey mixes in explosive instrumental moments such as the driving post-chorus riff in “Edward in Oz” or the funk-laden bassline leading the opening track, the band buoying the energy to ecstatic heights that keep the head banging and the hips moving.

DIONYSUS, PART I is definitely a danceable record, but the lyrics examine this party atmosphere under a more critical light. The chorus to “SATYR DAY IV: the boys” overflows with imagery of excess: “Drink up / Pop some, get it, don’t regret it,” yet the verses pull the party down to dismal scenes of sitting alone and one-sided conversations. “BADSTAR” opens into a warzone full of violence and fear, yet by the second verse, the speaker is focused on finding “another drink or two to dull away the pain;” and by the end, neither the suffering and the coping mechanisms bring any real emotion: “I wanna feel anything.” DIONYSUS, PART I cultivates the hedonistic atmosphere of its namesake, refracting wanton writing through the lens of 21st century nihilism, reaching for any feeling but always returning empty.

DIONYSUS, PART I is the soundtrack to an evening out, the drum beats scoring drunken dancefloors and sultry one-night stands. The songs are intricate, impassioned, and above all infectious—I cannot impart to you the amount of times “PANIC” and “BADSTAR” have been stuck in my head since I first heard them. Mickey Blurr combines keen lyrics and musical flair to create an atmosphere that is simultaneously debauched and introspective. And if PART I is a dancefloor panic attack, I can’t wait to see what mania the next record will contain.

My Top Track: “PANIC”

You can find more from Mickey Blurr, including upcoming shows and news, on Facebook. Then head over to Bandcamp to download a copy of DIONYSUS, PART I, or stream it directly on Spotify.

Shake the Baby til the Love Comes Out - in a pretty suit

As a musician, math rock scares me sometimes. The very essence of such technical music is, well, its technicality—its driven by knowledge, and it’s terribly easy to listen to a band cutting up complex time signatures at lightning speeds and feel like they’re just flexing their music degrees at the rest us plebs. But this means such intellectual music needs heart, needs the human experience, more than ever, and few understand this as well as NY’s Shake the Baby Til the Love Comes Out, whose debut record in a pretty suit distills the chaos of existence into song. 

For only a two-piece, Shake the Baby sound massive, a juggernaut of tone and technicality that goes far beyond odd time signatures and jazzy progressions. The guitar guides the compositions all across the sonic map; “Little Spoon, Big Ego” wails with gritty, ultra-dissonant chords, while “Also Vomit” features one of the most moving melodic intros I’ve ever heard. The drums are just as maddening: “Utility Myth” places swing cymbal hits and thundering toms right next to blastbeats, while the hectic hihat work steering “Mine is Viscera” is nearly anxiety-inducing. 

Shake the Baby Til the Love Comes Out play their instruments with incredible ease, but what’s even more impressive is their innate understanding of tension and release. Their songs undulate between emotive melodics and harsh, grinding riffs; between fluid beats that carry the ear across the kit and haphazard smashing that mimics a five-car pileup. “Someone for Everything” opens with a colorful progression before warping into rasping chords, syncopated hits, and galloping double kick hits. Deceptive pauses pop up between periods of noisy thrashing, turning the song’s beat into an arrhythmic heart desperately trying to get back on track.

Each moment of anarchy on in a pretty suit is precise and masterful; Shake the Baby wield searing distortion and blistering dissonance like weapons, embracing the chaos that is inherent in music and using it to build tension as the song evolves. Their constant alternation between compelling beauty and reckless noise makes each tune play like a horror movie, lulling you with gentle conversation and then forcing you to jump as the killer stabs their way across the screen.

Shake the Baby til the Love Comes Out are making music that is manic and unpredictable, and in a pretty suit is calculated insanity at its finest. Their riffs are fun, their songs full of flair, yet all cut with a healthy dose of noise and chaos. Best of all, every tune is earnest—I can hear how much fun this band has making their music, and it’s that type of honesty that connects with fans. This act is bringing the heart back to an often-heartless genre, and wherever they take it next, I will surely be following them. 

My Top Tracks: “Someone for Everything

 

You can find more from Shake the Baby Til the Love Comes Out, including upcoming shows and news, on their Facebook page. Then head over to Bandcamp and snag your own copy of in a pretty suit.

God Program - Fragments of Illusion

While I grew up listening to metalcore, it’s a genre I thought was basically dead. Ten years of local shows with six bands playing nearly-identical riffs had taken its toll. Mainstream bands grew to avoid the sound entirely, or traded it in for a strange, loathsome pop-metal hybrid and radio play. The brutal and brusque energy that I’d loved had become sterile and store-brand, so I gave up on it. To me, metalcore was dead, and honestly, I was glad for it.

Then God Program dropped their debut EP Fragments of Illusion last fall, and made me stuff those sentiments right back in my mouth.

Fragments is furious and fearless, six songs of unbridled energy. The band’s performances are tight and technical, thundering drum beats and chugging guitars coupling into one continuously ruthless machine. Fierce screams coat the instrumentation with the human condition, punctuated by gentle and tasteful singing that spreads the emotion beyond pure fury. There is no shortage of intensity on Fragments of Illusion—every song hits like a shot of adrenaline stabbed through the breastbone.

Fragments is as original as it is ferocious; God Program keeps their debut record evolving and growing even as it spins. “What Trigonometry Couldn’t Solve” plays with dynamics by juxtaposing noisy distorted chords with moments of silence, while “Dostoyevsky vs. the Long Island Sound” slaps catchy melodic choruses against pummeling palm mutes and double-bass patterns. The grinding of ”Exposure Therapy” practically collapses into “Scorpio Rising,” an acoustic-driven tune that eschews volume and virulence for sad beauty without sacrificing the powerful performances that make God Program’s music so damn compelling.

God Program have taken a dying sound (dead to me, at least) and yanked it back from the brink. Their music is honest and driving, much more a defiant shout of life for this genre than the death rattle I expected. Fragments of Illusion is an incredible effort by a very talented act, and if this is just their debut, I can’t wait to see what chaos they cook up next.

My Top Track: “Exposure Therapy”

You can find more from God Program, including upcoming tour dates and news, by following their  Instagram @godxprogram. Fragments of Illusion is streaming on Spotify and available for purchase on Bandcamp.