For those of us who spent the mid-to-late 1980s navigating basement community halls, churches, and loveable, armpit-smelling dive bars, the name Die Kreuzen was a permanent fixture on the punk rock radar. They were the sound of the Midwest underground --too fast for the goths to do their spooky Bela Lugosi "shoo the bats away" interpretive dance, too technical for the punks (no "1-2-3-4" chanted slogans here, look away), and far too haunting for the thrashers who preferred brutal, poorly executed imagery of metal fists being shoved through heads. Sahan Jayasuriya’s Don’t Say Please: The Oral History of Die Kreuzen finally provides the blueprint for that freak-out hi-fi frequency. It’s a ten-year "rescue operation" that gives the beer-soaked microphone back to the four individuals from Milwaukee who built a new musical language in total DIY isolation. Gentlemen, you now have the stage. The strength of this oral history is how it validates the tactile reality of being a fan. As I read the chapters on their 1986 transition, I’m looking at my original silk-screened shirt from their October 10, 1986, stop at the UNF Hall on College Street, Toronto, Canada. This was the legendary "Three D's" bill: D.R.I., Die Kreuzen, … Read more
There’s a fine line between crossover thrash that feels dangerous and crossover thrash that just feels like a party. Global … Read more
There’s no easing into Next Stop… Dead Stop… No buildup, no warning just impact. Fayetteville, Arkansas’ Burned Up Bled Dry … Read more
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The Lost, The Sick, The Sacred starts off with this atmospheric near dirge ditty that I thought I might have a Joy Division clone on my hands. That would have been a treat, sadly the guitars down tune, the drums begin the pummel, and then some screaming is started. Oh of course, it wouldn't be today's metalcore without some nicely sung vocals ruining every single chorus. The rest of the The Lost, The Sick, The Sacred follows suit with it's clear but still chunky production thick with bombastic drums and guitar squeals. Inhale Exhale's sound lies somewhere between Underoath and Norma Jean so they will be a hit with the Christian hardcore fans that go to Cornerstone Fest every year. I actually don't mind Inhale Exhale so much when they … Read more
There’s something inherently appealing about a record that doesn’t try to hide what a band actually sounds like. DCxPC Live & Dead, Vol. 3 captures Luxury Teeth in two very different settings and more importantly, shows that neither version feels like a compromise. Side A, the “Live” portion, was recorded at the Ottobar in Baltimore while opening for GBH, and … Read more
This record is a sprawling, smoke-covered, raging slab of feedback. After decades of lurking in the Bristol shadows, The Heads haven’t just returned with Yourprettyplaceisgoingtohell; they’ve brought the sound of the walls closing in as fingernails scratch at brick. It’s a dense, suffocating, and majestic mess of a record—a jagged middle finger to the sanitized, algorithm-friendly "psych" scene. I like … Read more
The archival hunt for the "missing links" of first-wave California punk usually leads through a trail of grainy handbill Xeroxes and tape traders' overdubbed copies. But with The Flyboys, the story has always been a bit more elegant—and a lot more colourful. Long before they were swept into the gravity of the Hollywood scene, frontman John Curry was already performing … Read more
Hardcore doesn’t need reinventing; just needs conviction. On Self Evident Truth, Baltimore’s The S.E.T. come out swinging with a debut EP that’s built on exactly that. It’s got groove, urgency, and a clear sense of purpose. Clocking in at around fifteen minutes, the EP wastes no time establishing its identity. From the opening moments of “This Chain,” it’s all forward … Read more
When a band describes themselves as surf punk, it usually conjures a certain image. Reverb drenched guitars, sunburnt melodies, maybe even a sense of looseness that leans more carefree than chaotic. Dashed doesn’t really fit that mold. On their self-titled LP, they take those familiar elements and run them through something colder, sharper, and far less predictable. Across eleven tracks, … Read more
National Anthem is the second album from The Sleeveens, a Nashville, TN band fronted by an Irishman. The band play that perfect mix of protopunk and classic rock 'n' roll that's built on a verse/chorus/verse structure and melody without any frills. It's leather jacket music for the common folk. The debut grabbed me by my collar and spun me around … Read more
The archival hunt for the "missing links" of first-wave California punk usually leads through a trail of grainy handbill Xeroxes and tape traders' overdubbed copies. But with The Flyboys, the story has always been a bit more elegant—and a lot more colourful. Long before they were swept into the gravity of the Hollywood scene, frontman John Curry was already performing … Read more
Ultrabomb just detonated. The Bridges That We Burn isn't some polite "heritage act" victory lap. It smells like a hand-rolled cigarette lit with a blowtorch in a damp Minneapolis alleyway. No reunion uranium glow here—just three lifers who’ve spent their lives in vans and aren’t interested in anything but the friction prediction. The DNA is legendary, but they aren’t coasting … Read more
Tear It On Down is the third record from Sweat and it picks up where the last two left off. It's aggressive hardcore punk, but with a playful groove or swagger that really makes it feel uplifting, even when the content is not. Case in point: "Surveillance State," which rolls kind of like a call-and-response song, except that lead vocalist … Read more
Growing up is rarely cinematic in real time but when you look back, it can feel mythic. On Year Of Summers, New Jersey’s Latchkey Kids frame heartbreak, identity, and grief through something closer to epic storytelling than simple emo confession. It’s a record that understands the drama of youth without romanticizing it. Frontman Hanny Ramadan positions the album as a … Read more
Recipe: Mental Gymnast Self-Titled Creator: Mental Gymnast Cookbook: Say-10 Recipes Copyright: 2/27/26 Ingredients: 1 Very Ripe Adam Gecking on Vocals 1 Stick Unsalted Erica Clayton on Bass 2 Slices Scotty Sandwich (1 Slice Guitar, 1 Slice Drums) 1 Dash Chris Ruckus on Synths Directions: *Preheat the recording studio to 65 degrees. Add all of the ingredients together in “One Big … Read more
There’s always a risk when a band forms out of legacy. Especially one tied to something as influential as Die Kreuzen. Lean too hard on the past and it becomes nostalgia. Push too far away and you lose the thread entirely. On Outlier, The Crosses manage to thread that needle, delivering a debut EP that feels less like a revival … Read more
Some bands aim for controlled chaos. Sealer sound like they’re actively trying to lose control and then figuring out how to weaponize that moment right before everything collapses. Their self-titled debut lands somewhere between hardcore, noise rock, and something far less stable, pulling from each without settling into any one comfortably. From the opening seconds of “Seeing/Peeling,” Sealer makes their … Read more
There’s a fine line between being a quirky emo band with scene references and something that actually sticks. On Keyframe, Columbus trio Palette Knife don’t just flirt with that line but sharpen it, name it after a Final Fantasy item, and build ten huge choruses around it. The band’s self-described “Nerd-Core-Mid-West-Emo” tag could easily read like a gimmick, but this … Read more
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