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.

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.

Song Spotlight: Will Grayson's "I was Born with a Caulfield"

Artwork by Andrea Hellwig

“Be bold.”

Perhaps the most important advice ever given to me concerning art. It takes more than a little nerve to create something, even more to make something honest and true. Hard advice, but invaluable.

So much music today is born from swamps of compromise, but CT’s singer-songwriter Will Grayson has never shied away from bold decisions; rather, sprawling compositions, multifaceted arrangements, and sonic exploration are well-honed weapons in his arsenal. And lucky for us, he’s just returned with a new single, “I Was Born with a Caulfield,” one of his most ambitious and powerful takes yet.

Opening with plucky guitar chords, Will Grayson spits some quickfire spoken-word before bursting into lilting vocals as the instrumentation takes off beneath. Multiple guitars converge beneath his singing, mixing twangy clean tones with a vibrant acoustic and a wild fuzz. “I Was Born with a Caulfield” takes sharp turns between elements, the rhythm section slipping in and out to let the vocal shine and the guitars drive. A swell of reverb begins to overtake the tune as it dives into a coda bursting with handclaps, driving bass, and dolorous melodics.

“I Was Born with a Caulfield” is rich with texture and color, and beneath this vibrant landscape of fuzzy guitars and energetic grooves lies a dynamic and lively composition. The vocals lead the tune along a winding path that never circles back; rather, the song continually evolves as it goes, beginning with a soft, jubilant progression and culminating in a full-band explosion. Yet despite the lack of a chorus or verse structure, Will Grayson’s melodies and harmonic chord progressions keep me locked in as I journey with him to the final fading piano notes.

The gentle yet undeniable surge of energy that grows across the length of “I Was Born with a Caulfield” is reflected in the song’s lyrics. The opening poetics are calm, delivered in an almost sarcastic voice, until Will Grayson slips into singing with the line “A silence rallies around the room.” Yet that silence splits immediately, blooming into splashes of guitar work led by the statement “You already know what comes next.” The final suite of the single launches like a bullet with the line “The first to the door is the first to get shot,” pushing the tune’s headbanging groove to completion in a gentle collapse. Grayson’s lyrics lead this odyssey along, his writing as fearless as the composition evolving beneath his words.

“I Was Born with a Caulfield” is a beautiful balance of intelligent writing and unabashedly fun instrumentation. As a precursor to Will Grayson’s upcoming album Yet What Else After All, its fun melodies and expansive arrangements stand as good omens for this new release. Will Grayson is an artist who understands the importance of being bold in his music, a fact that sets him apart from other singer/songwriters. If “I Was Born with a Caulfield” is any indication, Yet What Else After All may be his boldest release yet, and I for one cannot wait for it.

You can find more from Will Grayson, including live shows and updates, by following him on Instagram: @willgraysonmusician. Then head over to his Bandcamp and/or Spotify and stream the new single "I was Born with a Caulfield" off his upcoming full-length, Yet What Else After All, releasing September 21st.

Glenn VeryClose - Episode 0

If you’ve had even half a conversation with me about Connecticut’s music scene, then undoubtedly you’ve heard me mention indie-rock power trio The 30th of February. They’re prolific songwriters and incredible performers, and I reviewed their latest EP Silence a few months ago, which recently saw a CD release featuring an exclusive bonus track. And as if that wasn’t enough to get me salivating, their frontman Ant just released an EP entitled Episode 0, a collection of stripped-down, dolorous tunes published under the moniker Glenn VeryClose, and I find myself completely lost in this record’s winding chords and lilting melodies.

Sonically, Episode 0 is relatively sparse, with each song stripped almost to the bones. Acoustic guitar and a plucky ukulele provide the foundation over which Ant’s haunting vocals float like fog on early morning streets. Yet he accomplishes so much with this little arsenal: “Walking Past a Burning Building” alternates between gentle melody and roaring, chorus-drenched chords, while “PDF” layers both string instruments to create cascading waves of sound. Glenn VeryClose uses simplicity to maximum effect on this EP, letting the energy and emotion of his chord progressions steep into strong elixirs of song.

The melancholy strings set the tonal foundation of Episode 0, and it’s upon this that Glenn VeryClose builds the tales and trials of each tune. The vocals on this EP are insanely mournful, each word carrying the weight of a thousand disappointments. Lines like “Hate yourself for me” from “Hate” or “Lost / in a space I created all myself” in “Vulnerable” shape atmospheres of intense emotion that are blatant, unencumbered by veil or metaphor. Each line is terribly powerful, and yet in these same songs, the speaker lacks agency to act upon that power, instead asking for permission with the questions “Can I hate you?” and “Am I allowed to stay?”

It is this lyrical approach, one of complete abandon, that makes this EP resonate so strongly with me. Glenn VeryClose embeds the very essence of depression, a simultaneous hopelessness against change and stasis, in every single line. It’s a viciously honest portrayal of how it feels to be alone, even if it’s just in your head. And yet Glenn VeryClose does not simply wallow in this darkness—by writing these songs, committing them to hand and heart and record, he thus begins a journey towards acceptance, and hopefully, healing.

No matter how many times I spin this EP, Episode 0 still hits me in the heart like the loss of a loved one. This record offers an intimate, stripped-down look into the world of an insanely prolific songwriter, and each of the four tracks spells out in heartbreaking detail how tough that world can be. With Episode 0, Glenn VeryClose bares all that there is to bare, trusting us as the listener to understand, to believe, to accept. It’s a vivid listening experience, and as you choose to venture into this odyssey, know you will not return the same as you arrived.

My Top Track(s): “Vulnerable” and “PDF” (I can’t choose!)

You can find more from Glenn VeryClose, including upcoming shows and news, on Facebook. Then head over to his Bandcamp page and grab your own copy of Episode 0.

Down with Rent - Entitled Millennial Scum

For the disaffected and marginalized sections of our community, the meeting place is not the town hall, but the dive bars and DIY spaces where hardcore and punk shows are happening so regularly. Punk music gives us a collective outlet for our frustrations, as well as a forum for confronting and changing the asinine aspects of our society. In CT, no band is making better use of this platform than Down With Rent, and with their new full-length Entitled Millennial Scum, they’re breaking out the artillery.

Down With Rent is renowned in the local scene for their explosive live shows, and Entitled Millennial Scum perfectly presses that energy and experience to record. The performances are volatile, almost too powerful for the speakers playing them. The drums thunder out beats so fast, I’m out of breath just listening. The guitar rages along aggressive chord progressions, resonant palm mutes, and searing feedback. The bass guitar’s tone alone feels like a kick in the stomach, riding atop thumping lines and growling low notes that boom within my chest cavity. The vocals thrash with throaty screams and fierce shouts, each absolutely vicious word hitting as hard as the guitar or drums.

The sound of Entitled Millennial Scum is pure and unadultered vitriol, but the lyrics are what give it a focused target. Down With Rent is fearless in calling out the hypocrisies that abound in our society. Lines like “Make no mistake / they won’t hesitate / to take everything / and leave you on the pavement to die” call out the indiscriminate greed and selfishness of the powers that be, a heady reminder that anyone playing the game will happily step on you to win it. In a similar vein, “Entitled to Everything” both pokes fun at generational disconnect with the line “Don’t ask me if you owe us a living / We want this planet and everything in it” before pointing out that action is what earns respect, not age. Entitled Millennial Scum is relentless in both energy and substance, a record seething with honest, no-holds-barred critique of the many cracks in the façade of our country.

One of my favorite aspects of Entitled Millennial Scum is how cohesively it flows. Each song rolls right into the next with nary a second wasted, swells of feedback tying the tunes together and driving the momentum of the record forward. Samples of news reports and police confrontations stitched into a couple tracks help reinforce the political tone of the album throughout. Entitled Millennial Scum is truly a record without a single boring moment—front-to-back, it plays with an integrity and energy that keeps my head and heart locked in.

No matter where you stand, Down With Rent’s new record packs serious punch. Every single song is loaded with kickass riffs, heady screams, and the unbridled energy that is this band’s trademark. Entitled Millennial Scum is a feverish punk powerhouse, the sound of a riot breaking out in the streets punctuated by brutal breakdowns and breakneck drumbeats, giving a furious voice to the fears and unrest so many of us live under every day. So put this record on repeat, and crank it up and up until it makes you deaf—you’re entitled to it.

My Top Track: “Can’t Swim”

You can find more from Down With Rent, including upcoming shows and news, on their Facebook page and on Instagram. Then head over to their Bandcamp and grab your own copy of Entitled Millennial Scum.

Intercourse - Everything is Pornography When You've Got an Imagination

Connecticut is a state oozing with heavy bands, yet few can truly bring the noise like Intercourse. Their approach to music is fearless and furious; seeing them live is like standing in the way of a careening freight train. They make music for the outsiders, broken loners and writhing weirdos, drawing on the darkness of the corners ignored by the masses. Intercourse embraces this darkness, and with their latest release Everything is Pornography When You’ve Got an Imagination, they lob it back at the general population like a hand grenade. 

Compositionally, Everything is Pornography is like a Jackson Pollock painting, simultaneously a technical masterpiece and a beautiful mess. The guitars thrash through quick, abrasive chord progressions and heady palm mutes, punctuated by vicious feedback and screaming dissonant notes. The bass rages through distortion and bizarre effects. Hectic blast beats and shattering cymbals drive the band into brutal breakdowns that punch like fists at the ear drums. Above this maelstrom ride the vocals of a rambling madman, screamed at fever pitch and full volume. 

The beauty of Intercourse’s music is that is simultaneously intentional and improvised—four talented and passionate musicians who have no qualms about fucking shit up. Everything is Pornography is loaded with tempo and time signature changes: “Piles” repeatedly cycles through 4/4/, 6/4, and 7/4 so rapidly that it’s almost impossible to predict, while “Beyond Human” presses thrashing fast sections against a vehement, soulless breakdown that slows with each repetition. But against these clear and deliberate technical decisions, Intercourse smashes waves of feedback and noise throughout, creating an audio hellscape of distortion and dissonance.

These players might be pros at their instruments, but noise is their specialty; chaos is in their blood, and this is nowhere more apparent than in the vocals. Each vocal piece feels almost separate from the instrumentation, like a drunken stranger stumbled into the recording studio and began screaming about being abducted by aliens. Head-spinning yells and vitriolic rants roil like a hurricane above the stormy seas of the instruments, forcing a framework of human suffering and absurdity over the layers of feedback. If the earsplitting guitars are there to disorient you, it’s the roaring vocals that kick you in the gut and steal your wallet. 

This intrinsic uproar is just as apparent in the lyrics, which spin tales of absolute pandemonium. “Cuckold the Family Ghost” describes a botched suicide resulting in a hellish haunting, while “Cum Kind of Monster” blurs the line between macho hero worship and masturbatory addiction. The undertone to almost every song is one of bizarre and irreverent humor, yet it is not all-consuming: lines like “Look me in the eyes, vote against my life. They want to build a wall? There's already a fucking wall” from “The Kids are Alt-Right” wield this bombastic anger against relevant social issues such as racism and toxic masculinity. 

Intercourse’s noisy brand of hardcore on Everything is Pornography When You’ve Got an Imagination hits like a stampede of blackout-drunk elephants. If they throw parties in hell, this is the record they put on the jukebox. Its noisy riffs, thundering beats, and spine-chilling shouts create a raucous mix that is both frightening and frighteningly good. Intercourse redefines the word “heavy” with Everything is Pornography, and I can’t wait to see where they take it next. 

My Top Track: “Beyond Human” 

You can find more from Intercourse, including news and show updates, on Facebook. Then head over to their Bandcamp page and grab your own copy of Everything is Pornography When You’ve Got an Imagination.

Bridgeroom / Will Grayson - Split #2 EP

One of the best aspects of my local music scene is how supportive and collaborative it can be. I regularly see artists working together to stay afloat in this oft-unforgiving pursuit of making music. Whether by cross-promoting shows or guest-spotting on recordings, CT’s musicians constantly reaffirm that none of us are in this alone, even in the most trying of times. One shining example of this community spirit is the latest split between Bridgeroom and Will Grayson, two acts bolstering each other’s songs and sadness on one release.

Bridgeroom’s songwriting on this split captures the feeling of disconnection that depression and anxiety can create, how when even in a crowded room and surrounded by friends, we can feel so alone.  “Break You Down” juxtaposes quick fuzzy guitar melodies and a fun full band arrangement against some of the loneliest vocals I’ve ever heard, while “You Won’t” rings like a howl in the middle of the night. Still, all is not lost—the uplifting melodies of “A Taunt Well Done,” while not quite resolving the sadness, at least let us come to terms with the feeling, creating a catharsis for the first side of the record.

Will Grayson’s tunes similarly places vibrant instrumentation against morose musing. “Every Week Has Its Day” plays with danceable drum rhythms and a bright synth, while “Failed States” features a wandering vocal melody over three guitars that flit between the speakers. The final track “Once A Week Won’t Kill You” blooms like a flower, spacing out powerful vocals with an ever-expanding instrumental bridge.

Like his instrumentation, Bridgeroom’s vocals are pained by old memories, somehow simultaneously longing for the past while wishing it had never come to pass. Every word is laden with enough weight and emotion to almost leave bruises. Lines like “It’s all already been said / But I’ll continue going / over it again” in “You Won’t” or “I dug up these old letters / from a box on my shelf / I’ll never throw them out / ‘cause I tell myself they help” suggest a pain almost too comforting in its familiarity. There is no veil between the emotion and intention in Bridgeroom’s lyrics—every line is a fresh wound displayed for all to see.

Where Bridgeroom relies on frank reality in imagery, Will Grayson shapes vivid metaphors to communicate emotion. “Every Week Has Its Day” plays with sequences of time in both its title and in the lines “We’re warring all spring / summer falls dead in the heat / we take off winter to sleep / and then the seasons repeat.” Similarly, “Failed States” applies a political framework to a romantic relationship, where communication suddenly becomes a negotiation. Will Grayson employs frameworks of imagery to enclose the emotion of the song, giving each piece a context outside of itself from which it can draw meaning.

Both Bridgeroom and Will Grayson bring their best to their sides of this split, but even more interesting is how their sides work together to create a comprehensive listening experience. Both artists sequence their songs in a mirrored manner; Track 1 flaunts upbeat tempos and powerful instrumentation, while Track 2 drops down into a gentle sway of sadness. Both artists focus their final pieces on dynamics—“A Taunt Well Done” wavers between quiet strumming and full-band swells, while “Once A Week Won’t Kill You” slowly builds an epic odyssey of instruments across its 7-minute existence. This similar structuring helps to create a cohesive adventure of the split, providing two unique perspectives on the same progression of sound.

The songs collected by both Bridgeroom and Will Grayson on this EP fit together like puzzle pieces. Each artist brings a distinct sound and style to the table, yet their collaborative approaches reflect the growing communal spirit of CT’s music scene. Splits like this are just one of the many ways musicians can come together and support each other in their artistic endeavors, and remind me just how high we can reach we can be when we give one another a boost.

My Top Tracks: “A Taunt Well Done” and “Failed States”

You can find more from these artists, including live shows and updates, by following Bridgeroom on Facebook and Will Grayson on Instagram. Then head over to these acts’ Bandcamp pages and pick up your own copy of their second split (as well as the first one!).

Bridgeroom Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Bridgeroom-1966562993619055/

Bridgeroom Bandcamp: https://bridgeroom.bandcamp.com/

Will Grayson Bandcamp: https://willgrayson.bandcamp.com/

Will Grayson Instagram: @willgraysonmusician

Shameless Self Promotion: New full-length "Drops of Dew & Mourning" releases tomorrow!

Well friends, after 2+ years of sequester, self-doubt, and a vicious cycle of creation-destruction-reassembly, I am proud to say that tomorrow, March 30, I will be releasing my first-ever full-length album, Drops of Dew & Mourning. And if I'm being honest, I'm both terrified and excited. 

The road of creating this record, of getting it out of me and into the world, was both long and arduous. The road of believing that the music I've been making is worth hearing has been far longer, and I'm not yet at the end of that path--I'm not sure I ever will be. 

But between all the cracks I can see in this album, I believe that other wills find both beauty and honesty. It's not perfect, but it is mine. And now I am giving it to the world, to you, in hopes that you find some aspect that speaks to you the way that writing this record did for me.

So come have some of this music with me. I will be performing some of these songs for the first time tomorrow night at Watertown's premier dessert bar, CBBG, along with an esteemed list of incredibly talented artists. There will even be physical CDs you can take home for a couple bucks, as well as piles of free hugs. 

Thanks again for being part of this journey with me. I hope to see you tomorrow night!

Love,

Woody

Release show FB event: https://www.facebook.com/events/1607343876017821/ 

Drops of Dew & Mourning on Bandcamp, out 3/30/18: https://thejudasobscure.bandcamp.com/album/drops-of-dew-mourning 

Shameless Self Promotion: New Single "Tallest Trees, Highest Branches" Drops Today!

"Tallest Trees, Highest Branches"

Hey friends! Brace yourself for some more shameless grandstanding....

In a few weeks, I will be dropping my very first full-length effort, Drops of Dew & Mourning. It's a record I've been working on for years at this point, and I'm excited to get it out in the world finally. So excited that I thought I'd share a song with you now. 

"Tallest Trees, Highest Branches" is probably the best example of what Drops sounds like--bombastic, scattered, DIY, and (hopefully) honest. It features a full arrangement, including programmed drums, vocal harmonies, and two 4-string bass parts. It's also fast becoming one of my favorite songs to play live. 

You can stream "Tallest Trees, Highest Branches" right off the Bandcamp page, and/or download it for free if you so choose. Don't be afraid to leave a review either--I'd love to hear what you think!

Drops of Dew & Mourning "drops" on Saturday March 30th on Bandcamp. Come join me and some great local acts at CBBG in Watertown that night to celebrate the record release and to grab your own physical copy, featuring artwork by the incredibly talented Deanna Burke. 

Thanks for giving this a shot. 

• Drops of Dew & Mourning Record Release Show: https://www.facebook.com/events/1607343876017821/

• "Tallest Trees, Highest Branches" on Bandcamp:https://thejudasobscure.bandcamp.com/album/tallest-trees-highest-branches-single 

• Deanna Burke's Website: http://www.deannaburkeart.com/ 

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.

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.

Parkinglot - At Least I'm Trying

There’s a strange, cathartic celebration in expressing sadness through music. If it’s done right, the emotion in a song is as real as the moment it was written; yet in sharing that sadness with the world, whether through a record or a live show, it becomes a universal event. The burden becomes just a little easier to bear, because band and listener become one in the experience.

Over the past few months, I’ve had the privilege of sharing in that odyssey with CT’s own Parkinglot, both at live shows and through their debut record At Least I’m Trying. These three punks throw everything they have into music, beating their instruments into splinters by the end of each song. Guitars squeal with feedback against a crunchy overdriven bass, and the drums smash beneath vocals that range from a resigned sigh to furious yells. Tunes like “Song for My Mind and Other Things I’ve Recently Lost” or “984 Miles” barrel at you like freight trains: relentless, and almost frightening in how powerful they are. 

At Least I’m Trying is an undeniably raw record, a factor that not only lends to its energy, but reflects the intensity that Parkinglot is known for. “Conversations” and “Den 2” feature gentle sections of quiet repose, yet there is always an underlying urgency that quickly rises to the surface. These tunes are brutally honest in their presentation, and Parkinglot’s use of dynamics in their compositions, starting small blazes that rapidly grow into infernos, forces the ear and the heart to catch up, to get on the level or get left behind. 

 

Much of Parkinglot’s music revolves around making the best of a dire situation, and the lyrics on At Least I’m Trying scream of struggle, desperation, and disconnection. There is zero pretense in the vocals—every shout is vicious, every word is honest almost to a fault. Lines like “Thank you for showing me how not to grow up to be / miserable and angry and hateful and spiteful and scotch-drunk” present the facts of a very real struggle without a hint of complaint or embellishment. 

Yet through all the pain that abounds in this album’s words, wielding sentiments often nearing suicidal, there is no question of giving up or succumbing to the darkness. Parkinglot takes their suffering and adheres it to catchy, gritty, fun-as-hell punk music, defying their despair and turning it into a celebration of life. 

At Least I’m Trying is easily one of the saddest records I’ve ever heard, but Parkinglot does not let that sadness define them. There is hope and fervor and a small but ever-growing sense of self-worth embedded in every crash cymbal or overdriven bassline. Each song bursts like a light in darkness, growing brighter and revealing more with each flash. Parkinglot proves with At Least I’m Trying that there is a future beyond struggle, and for these three musicians, it’s a goddamn bright one. 

My top track: “Vegetables”

You can find more from Parkinglot, including upcoming live shows and news, on Facebook. Then grab your own copy of At Least I’m Trying on their Bandcamp page, out via Destroy All Music.

Kidnapped - Crunch CS

While I am an unabashed fan of sappy music like the Smashing Pumpkins or American Football, more often than not I need to spin something far more vicious, and for me, CT’s Kidnapped has mastered the distillation of brutality in their sound. Their music is built on a singular rage, the tones of a psyche snapping, and of the three releases they dropped in 2017, Crunch CS presents the best capture of Kidnapped’s unbridled fury.

Clocking in at just over six minutes, Crunch CS barrels headfirst into your ears with reckless and unrelenting energy. Not a single track breaks sixty seconds, yet Kidnapped still manages to cram tempo and dynamic changes into each piece. There is no time wasted on sentiment, nor a moment spared to catch a breath or tune a string—the band smashes song against song against song without apology, pumping their virulent music into your head until your brain is seeping from your ears.

Crunch CS sports an energy that is painfully immediate, capturing Kidnapped's live ferocity without sacrificing either decibel or definition. The drums deliver adrenaline-fueled blast beats at blistering tempos against a bass that groans like a skyscraper about to collapse. The guitars are massive and mangled with distortion, cabs retching feedback between songs and intermingling with snippets of fuzzed radio or sampled dialogue to construct a compound of insanity.



Atop this maelstrom of noise, they lay roaring vocals drenched in desperation and fury. The energy pent up in the instruments finds a voice in the lyrics, bursting from lines like "Cut me open / Rip it out / Make sure I scream / Fucking loud." Each shout smashes against the background of the instrumentation, as if fighting for its own space against the walls of noise and feedback.

When it comes to powerviolence, you will be hard pressed to find a band that hits harder than Kidnapped, and Crunch CS provides the perfect dose of their sound to get you hooked. Kidnapped cuts the bullshit out entirely, cramming viscosity and volume into each song, ripping through their riffs before careening to a quick and catastrophic end. So don't waste time and sleep on this record, because Kidnapped's trajectory is only upward, and they sure as hell aren't gonna wait for you to come around.

My top track: Scibelli Mondays

You can find more from Kidnapped, including upcoming live shows and news, on Facebook. Then grab your own copy of Crunch CS at their Bandcamp page.

Videodome - Nocturnal Omissions

For the world, 2017 was a pretty shit year. But for music in CT, 2017 has brought a heap of amazing releases from extremely talented acts, and among the top of that stack is Nocturnal Omissions by Videodome. They’ve put together a record of hectic sound and heavy emotion, a combination that is insanely addictive. 

Though comprised of former members of Heavy Breath and Warm, Videodome wields a sound that is entirely their own. Grit is a mainstay across the EP’s five tracks: “Don’t Get Stoned in Glass Houses” rips open with fuzzbomb syncopation, while the overdriven bass and guitars in the title track carry heavy riffs like burdens. The drums thump like a frantic heart throughout, each beat pounding with adrenaline. The vocals waver between beauty and brutality, raging against the belligerent backdrop of instrumentation with anxious yelps and crushing honesty.

Videodome’s compositions are just as emotive and evocative as their performances: “Pleather Daddy” saunters like a serial killer stalking a victim home, while the outro to “Nocturnal Omissions” glides on dolorously sweet singing and a wandering bassline. The vocals steer the emotion of the tunes, dragging “Don’t Get Stoned in Glass Houses” from indifference into a violent exclamation of “Fuck a beautiful sunrise, I hope we never sleep.” The lyrics ooze a strange and sexual fury; every line is fraught with simultaneous desire, regret, apathy—all limned with a vicious feedback loop of anger, rolling from lyrics into vocals and back, again and again.

There’s so much to hear in this record, to feel, that each listen is near overwhelming for the senses. But as visceral as the experience is, so is it intellectual. Not a single part is repeated once too long—every lyric, riff, and wordless vocal outburst brandishes its intensity and impact without exaggeration. Nocturnal Omissions is distilled and ferocious lust, but presented with a precision and grace that is largely unmatched by other acts.

Whether you’re looking for snarling noise, delicate sadness, or outright wrath, Nocturnal Omissions truly delivers. I want to learn to play these riffs myself so I can take them with me, so effusive is the energy that they exude. Videodome’s cocktail of crushing sound and oscillating intensity is something as-of-yet unequaled in CT’s scene; if their future means honing that into an even deadlier weapon, then you had best believe my eyes and ears will be on them, and I bet yours will be too.

My Top Track: “Wet with Regret”

You can find more from Videodome, including upcoming live shows and news, on Facebook. Then grab your own copy of Nocturnal Omissions at their Bandcamp page.